Chapter 3: The contract

The way he said my name made me feel some kind of way more like a shiver running fast down my spine.

I exhaled loudly, grabbing the pen in my hand.

This was it. No turning back.

I pressed the pen to the paper 

BANG!

The door to Alexanders' office was forced open so violently that they nearly slammed into the walls.

A woman suddenly badged into his office so quickly,  like she was chasing after someone, or rather was being chased. Her heels clicked snappily against the marble floor. Tall, elegant, and furious, her kind of beauty is rare, I mean her beauty speaks. She had the kind of beauty that makes you feel less significant just by standing next to her.

“Alex, you've got to be kidding me,” she exclaimed, shunning my presence completely.

Alexander sighed, not looking too surprised like he had been expecting this.

“Isabella now is not the time.”

Isabella? The name sent off a distant alarm in my brain.

Then I remembered. Isabella Monroe. CEO of Noir Monarch Media. The woman the tabloids swore Alexander was to get married to.

Oh.

This is now getting interesting.

Isabella turned to me, her sharp intense green eyes skimming me in open judgment. I suddenly felt so tiny in my low-grade thrift-store blazer and discount shoes.

“Wait a minute, is this the woman you’re getting married to?” she questioned, “oh my days this is so unbelievable” she added, looking so surprised as she crossed her arms. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Alexander's expression didn’t change. “I don’t think I owe you any explanation at all.”

“You definitely do because right now you’re making the biggest mistake of your life!” Isabella's voice rose, her anger filling the room. “Do you have an idea of what this will do to your reputation, I mean not just you but your family. To me, And my own family?”

Something ugly twisted in my chest.

This wasn’t about love. This was about business, power, and image.

“Isabella, Alexander said, his voice carrying an edge of finality. “I suggest you leave.”

Isabelle let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, I see how it is or rather what this is all about.” for a few seconds I was scared she read the room and knew what I and Alexander were up to. She turned back and faced me, her gaze burning into mine. “This is about your father, isn’t it? So you mean you don’t need him, that you can make your own damn choices.”

Father?

I blinked, my eyes darting between the both of them. There was history here.

Alex’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “Isabella, leave. Now.”

She stared at Alexander for a few seconds. She then threatened, shaking her head.

“This isn’t over, Alex,” she said, making it sound like a warning. I mean more like a “watch your back” kind of warning. She turned on her heel and stalked out.

The quietness she left behind was a dense one, heavy with lots of unsaid things.

I cleared my throat. “Well. That was dramatic.”

Alex didn’t answer. He just stared at the contract on the desk, his jaw set, his eyes darker than before.

“Are you still signing?” he asked finally.

There was just Something about the way he said it that made my stomach twist.

I should have left. I should have taken Isabella’s outburst as a warning and excuse, and just walked away quietly.

But I didn’t.

I picked up the pen. And I signed.

Alexander reached out for the contract, he flipped through the pages with a sharp gaze. His movements were precise, controlling just like him.

“It’s done,” I muttered to myself.

Alexander nodded, setting the contract aside. “We’ll get the legal paperwork processed by tomorrow. My assistant will handle the marriage license. Once it’s official, you’ll move into my penthouse.”

I stiffened. “Move in with you?”

“Obviously,” he said smoothly. “Married couples live together. If you stay in your apartment, it raises suspicion.”

I swallowed hard. My tiny apartment was the last piece of my independence. Moving in with him meant stepping into his world of wealth, power, and cold efficiency.

“And my job?” I asked.

“You won’t need it.”

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, You’re my wife now, at least to the public,” he said, raising his voice slightly. He wasn't even angry but the way his voice echoed reminded me of my ex, a man who'd call you “love” one moment and threaten to leave you the next.  

He used to help with all my bills; Rent, food. Anything that needs to be sorted with money but it all came with a price.

 And the price? My sanity.

  “Being known to be my wife, would make people question you if you keep working at a café,” Alexander said, making an effort to explain.

“But my job pays my bills,” I said as I clenched my jaw.

Alexanders' gaze darkened. “Your bills are no longer your concern.”

His words hung heavy between us.

I inhaled sharply. “I don’t want to be known as some spoiled trophy wife.”

He arched his brow. “You think I’d marry someone weak enough to be a trophy?”

I blinked. I think that was an indirect compliment if I'm not mistaken right?

He didn't give a reply to my question, as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. “Keep your job if you insist, but just get yourself prepared because the media would tear you apart. They won’t understand why ‘Mrs. Pierce’ is making coffee for strangers.”

I hesitated. The media. The scrutiny.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll think about it.”

He studied me before nodding. “Good.”

Silence stretched between us.

“What else do I need to know?” I asked.

Just then Alexander brought out a small velvet box from his desk drawer and slid it toward me.

“A ring?”

“You’ll wear it at all times in public,” he said. “We’ll attend social events together. If anyone asks, we met at a gala a year ago and fell in love.”

I snorted. “Believable.”

“People tend to always believe what they want to believe.”

Before I opened the box I hesitated for a second, then flipped the box open.

I couldn't believe what was Inside the box, it was a stunning diamond ring. The stone caught the light, sending tiny reflections across the desk.

I exhaled sharply. “This is insane.”

I could tell this was worth a fortune, didn't say that out loud.

Alexander smirked. “It’s a contract marriage, Eleanor. It’s supposed to be insane.”