CHAPTER 3: The Contract

At 1:45 P.M., the taxi stopped in front of a quiet glass building. Lydia stepped inside.

A receptionist looked up. “Miss Hayes?”

She nodded.

“This way, please.”

The receptionist led her to an office, knocked once before opening the door.

Louis didn't look up when she entered. He signed the final page of a document and slid it towards Carter.

“Handle it.”

Only then did Louis raise his eyes.

“Sit.”

He placed a black folder on the desk and slid it toward her. “I need a wife.”

Lydia frowned. “Are you joking?”

“For one year.”

She stared at him. “I won’t marry you.”

Louis leaned back. “Don’t be in a rush”

He gestured towards the folder. “Read.”

She hesitated but opened it. The first page was a marriage contract. Her eyes moved across the terms.

One-year legal marriage. Shared residence. Separate bedrooms. Public appearances together when required. Travel and event attendance when necessary. All personal expenses covered by Louis Vale. Monthly financial compensation. A final settlement upon completion of the agreement.

Lydia turned the pages. There were clauses covering privacy and  public conduct.

She looked up. “You really expect someone to sign this?”

“Yes.”

“You don't even know me.”

“I know enough.”

Lydia closed the folder. “I have no interest in becoming your wife.” She pushed it back across the desk.

“State your price?” He reached for a second folder. He slid it towards her. “This one deserves more attention.”

Lydia frowned. 

“Read.”

She opened it. The first page contained photographs. Carter helping her into Louis's suite, a picture of her asleep on the bed. Another showed her leaving the following morning.

Lydia's stomach tightened. She turned the page. A report about her father's misconduct within Vale Group. Then another document.

Grace Hayes. Hospital records. Treatment history. Payment schedules.

The paper crinkled under her grip as her fingers locked. She turned another page. The hospital's discounted patient care programme. Her mother's eligibility. The cost of treatment. And a clause explaining how the subsidy could be withdrawn if her eligibility changed.

Lydia looked up sharply. “How did you get these?”

“I own the hospital.”

Her chest tightened. 

“Keep reading.”

Lydia's eyes moved to another page. Family profile. Second wife. She stopped.

Louis's voice remained quiet. “I've never had much patience for a woman who interfered in another woman’s marriage.”

Lydia snapped the folder shut. “My mother isn't one of them.”

Louis met her glare. “That's your opinion.”

“You have no right to judge her.” 

“Whether your mother deserves my judgment is irrelevant.” His fingers tapped the medical records once. “What matters is that I can make her ineligible for the discount.”

Lydia stared at him.

“I can make it completely free and also assign a private nurse to her care for as long as medically necessary.”

Lydia's breath caught.

“But only if you become my wife.”

He stood. Buttoned his jacket. Then walked towards the door.

“You're using my mother?”

“I'm offering you a chance to take better care of her.”

“You have two hours.”

Then he left.

Silence settled over the office. One folder lay open to the contract. The other remained open to her mother's medical records. She looked from one to the other.

Then shut both.

She couldn't marry a man who looked at her mother with contempt. 

Her hand reached for the contract again. 

Disgust rose in her throat, but she read every page once more. Freedom to pursue her own interests. Everything she needed would be provided. And a generous payment too.

Her eyes moved to her mother's file. Severe rheumatoid arthritis. Discounted treatment programme.

She remembered the nights her mother struggled to grip a spoon. She remembered Victoria's voice whenever another payment came due. “Why waste money on someone who'll never get better?”

Her father had always remained silent.

Lydia closed her eyes.

If she lost the discount eligibility, her mother's care would once again depend on Victoria. She couldn't hand her mother back to that woman.

Then another thought came. The money. She could finally build something of her own. A business. Something she had dreamed about since university but had never been allowed to pursue.

If she was giving Louis one year of her life, perhaps she could make something out of it.

Lydia looked at the contract. “It's only a year.”

One signature stood between her freedom and her mother's care.