Chapter 5

Roman’s pov

Adam slid the papers across the desk like he was passing me some treasure map. But it wasn’t treasure. Not even close. It was a fat stack of legal bullshit with Callum’s name all over it, tidy and smug as him.

“Take a look”, Adam said, adjusting his tie like the room wasn’t already choking in here.

I glanced at Callum. He sat there like he owned not just the building, but also, by right, the central air I was breathing. The expensive-sharp black suit, that dumb bored expression with his arm tossed effortlessly over the back of his chair… as if he couldn’t be arsed. And me? I was hanging onto the papers for dear life.

It was a sodding NDA. Worse… it was a contract. A marriage contract. 

Married to Callum. For an entire year.

I swallowed, flicking through the pages, legal jargon trapping me beneath them like a pair of weights.

Adam cleared his throat. “It’s all standard, Roman. Nothing to cause any concern – just a few stipulations to make sure Callum’s name is kept untarnished and by sound association yours too. That’s it… nothing…” He seemed to search for the right words.

I glanced at him with wild eyes. “Nothing?” I repeated and then snorted in disbelief as I let my fingers drop onto the open book in front of me. “Is having to be ‘constantly available for public appearances’ how they define nothing?”

Adam gave me that confidential look, cool and professional and like he was maybe trying not to roll his eyes. “That’s what marriage is, Roman. Devotion.”

Callum smirked at me over the rim of his cupcake. “You’re telling me you’ve never played house before.”

That hit me wrong. Real wrong.

I shoved the papers back onto the desk. “You think this is a joke? You think I’m just gonna nod and smile and move into your penthouse like some trophy?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said casually, leaning back further. “I mean, look at you. What’s really tying you down right now? You got a shitty apartment, a part-time job, no real career plan—”

“Stop.” My voice cracked more than I wanted it to but it cut through the room like glass. “You should not talk to me like you know me.”

“This was your plan,” he scoffed. “I had nothing to do with it. I already had something up my sleeve.”

I laughed. “Like what? Run and hide?”

He raised his brows and leaned in like he wanted to hit me.

It was clear we hated each others guts and Adam could see right through us that we didn’t like each other one bit.

“Can we not right now? Just—Roman, if there are clauses you’re not happy with, voice them. We can talk.”

I nodded and read through the paragraph that made me scowl in the first place.

"Section fourteen: ‘The spouse will agree to move into the primary place of residence owned by Callum within fourteen days of contract execution.’”

I looked at Adam. Then I looked at Callum. "So basically, in a nut shell, I’m supposed to move into his shiny palace and be all submissive-wife-like?"

Callum let out a scoff of his own, low and sharp. “It’s not like you’ve got a good place anyway.”

My chest burned. One sentence. He’d summed up my life in one fucking sentence.

I pushed my chair back, shooting to my feet so fast the thing screeched over the floor. “You arrogant son of a—”

“Sit!” Callum said flatly like I was his lapdog, but I wasn’t taking this lightly.

“No,” I said with a stern look on my face.

“No?” He scoffed. “Did you just say…”

“You heard me,” I shot off. “No. You think because you’re some billionaire hotshot, you get to talk to people like they don’t matter? Well I’ve got news for you pretty boy, not everyone is a slave.”

“You’re just overreacting…”

"Overreacting?" My voice still squeaked, underlining my anger. "You want me to sign up for a year. Pretend to be some perfect little wifey so you look good in front of your board, or investors, or whoever the hell you're trying to suck up to. I tell you the truth-you ask my opinion-and then when I don't like it? You insult me?"

Callum’s jaw locked tight and the space between us grew thick and loaded with threat. Adam shuffled from foot to foot but neither of us spared him a glance.

“ You don’t have to do this.” Callum finally spoke,voice low and clipped. “Nobody’s got a gun to your head.”

“ Then why am I here?” I threw back at him. “Why am I even in your office right now reading through pages of...” Again the papers slapped against wood; again they echoed. “…lies.”

Adam tried to jump in, his voice soft and trying to calm me down. “Roman, look—this isn’t about insulting you. It’s about creating stability. You’d be compensated—”

“I don’t care about the money,” I snapped before he could even finish the thought, my back straightening on its own accord as every muscle inside me coiled and bound up; my throat was raw and angry frustration leaked down my face. My hands were trembling but I balled them into fists at my sides.

“This isn’t just about contracts and stability,” I said low and through gritted teeth as waves of heated anger slammed through me . “This is my life. And you—” With a horrified glance to Callum who seemed frozen by the magnitude of what was happening and unable to function enough

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw Callum’s composure slip. A crack in his armour. But then it was gone, and he was ice cold.

“You overestimate your importance,” he replied smoothly. “It wasn’t personal, Roman – just business.”

My heart stuttered. “Business?”

“Yes. Business. You’re mine for a year and then you go back to whatever pathetic excuse of a life you had previously. Hell, maybe you’ll even be better off when it’s all said and done, but until then . . . I don’t think you have room in your life to make demands.”