CHAPTER SEVEN: THE CONTRACT

(Emma’s POV)

The moment I stepped out of the elevator, the silence of the top floor wrapped around me like a warning.

No receptionist. No assistant.

Just stillness… and him.

Xander Blake stood by the window, the Manhattan skyline blazing behind him like a prophecy. His hands were in his pockets, blazer off, sleeves rolled up, and his tie slightly loosened...power, undone.

He didn’t look at me when he spoke.

“You changed your mind so quickly,” he said, cocky and smooth. “Didn’t think you’d cave before sunset.”

I closed the distance between us, slowly. “I didn’t cave. I evolved.”

That made him turn.

His eyes skimmed over me, pausing at my fitted dress, then rising to meet mine.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“I call it strategy.” I shrugged. “You made an offer. I’ve decided to accept.”

Xander arched a brow, his tone dry. “And here I thought I’d have to chase you a little longer.”

“You’re not that charming,” I replied, even though he kind of was—in the most irritating way.

He walked over to his desk, picked up a folder, and laid it out.

“Good. Saves us both time. This is the contract. Read it, ask your questions, then sign.”

I didn’t sit. Instead, I took the folder and flipped through it.

---

Marriage Contract Between Alfred Xander Blake and Vivian Emmanuella Davis

Two-years term minimum

Appearances at events and functions

Joint residence required

Intimacy optional

No emotional obligations

Financial benefits included

Absolute discretion

Secrets remain buried

---

I froze on that last line.

“‘Secrets remain buried?’” I read aloud. “That’s awfully poetic for a contract.”

Xander watched me, unreadable.

“I believe in privacy. For both parties.”

I let the folder fall shut.

“So if I murdered someone in the past, you wouldn’t ask?”

He smiled faintly. “Not unless the body’s in my building.”

I laughed....soft, bitter. “Good. Then we understand each other.”

---

I reached into my purse and took out a folded piece of paper. “My additions.”

He took it from me and read in silence.

Emma’s Clauses:

Personal freedom — I keep my own schedule.

No surveillance or interference.

Zero tolerance for betrayal — contract voids immediately.

Emotional boundaries respected.

A clause for annulment if either party violates trust.

He looked up slowly. “Betrayal?”

I held his gaze. “Just making sure history doesn’t repeat itself.”

Something flickered behind his eyes—not guilt, not surprise.

Maybe… recognition.

He didn’t press. Instead, he signed the contract with practiced ease and handed me the pen.

“Your turn.”

I hesitated....not out of fear, but out of finality.

This was it. The moment I stepped into the version of myself who didn’t wait for life to be fair.

I signed.

Vivian Emmanuella Davis

He sealed the papers, then looked up.

“Congratulations, wife.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get used to saying that.”

He smirked, leaning back against the desk.

“You say that now. Wait till the media falls in love with us.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m only here because...”

“You needed an out,” he finished. “Whatever it is… I won’t ask.”

For a moment, silence filled the room—heavy but not uncomfortable.

I turned to leave.

And that’s when I saw it.

A photograph on his desk.

Tucked under some papers, half-concealed, but still visible.

I picked it up before I could think.

It was black-and-white. A little faded.

Two people standing close...a girl smiling softly at the camera, and a boy beside her.

My fingers went cold.

The girl was me.

But I’d never seen this photo in my life.

I turned sharply. “Where did you get this?”

Xander stood still.

He didn’t answer.