Chapter 6

 ISABELLE’S POV

I stared at the folder between us, unable to decide whether I wanted to throw it at Damien or push it away and run.

A contract marriage.

The words sounded unreal, like something from one of the billionaire romances Tessa read when she wanted to escape her problems. Only this wasn’t a story. There was no guarantee I’d get a happy ending. I would be marrying a man who had looked me in the eye and told me he didn’t like me.

And I didn’t like him either.

Accepting meant tying myself to someone I couldn’t stand, pretending to be his wife while knowing there would never be love between us. I’d imagined getting married one day, but not like this. Not because of one night I wished I could erase. Not because I’d been careless. Not because Lucas had broken my heart and left me trying to pick up the pieces.

And not because my family needed saving.

I kept my face still, refusing to let Damien see how much his offer had shaken me.

“You expect me to marry you just like that?” I asked.

“I expect you to consider it.”

“You’ve made it sound like a business deal.”

“It is a business deal.” He folded his hands on the table. “Neither of us wants a relationship. This arrangement solves several problems.”

“Your problems,” I corrected. “You want a wife so your father stops pressuring you, and you want people to stop asking questions about me and the baby.”

“And you need financial security.”

The words landed like a slap because they were true. I hated that he could see it. I hated that he could reduce everything I’d struggled for to a number he could transfer into my account.

“What happens after the wedding?” I asked. “Do I just sit in your house and pretend to be happy?”

“You’ll have your own life. You can continue working, see your friends, do whatever you want. I won’t interfere.”

“And what about love? What if I meet someone I actually want to be with?”

His expression barely changed. “You can have a relationship with whoever you choose, as long as it stays private. I won’t have my wife publicly involved with another man. I have a reputation to protect, and so does my company.”

I looked at him, waiting for the joke. There wasn’t one.

“And you?” I asked. “You’ll be faithful?”

A dry laugh escaped him. “I never promised that. I’ll have my own relationships, too. We’ll keep our private lives separate. Separate rooms, separate routines. In public, we’ll act like a married couple. Behind closed doors, we mind our own business.”

The casual way he said it made my chest tighten. He was offering me a marriage with no love, no loyalty, and no warmth. Just a roof over my head and money for my family.

I glanced at the folder again. My fingers curled around the edge of my chair.

“And if I say no?”

“Then we find another way to deal with the situation.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

He said it so easily, as though my whole future were a meeting he could reschedule.

I pushed my chair back. “I need time to think.”

“Take tonight.”

“I’ll take as long as I need.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop me. I stood, picked up my bag, and walked out without touching the contract.

Outside, the evening air felt cooler, but it did nothing to settle the thoughts racing through my head. I called Tessa and asked if I could come over. She didn’t ask questions until I was sitting on her sofa, holding a glass of water I hadn’t taken a sip from.

“He wants you to marry him?” she asked.

I nodded.

“And you can see other people? He can see other people? You’ll live like strangers who happen to share a surname?”

“That’s what he said.”

Tessa leaned back, processing it. “Okay. It’s not romantic. At all. But, Isabelle, think about what it could mean for you and your family.”

I gave her a tired look. “You sound like my mother.”

“I’m not saying you should do it just because he has money. I’m saying you should think about what you’re facing if you don’t. You’re pregnant, you don’t know how steady your job will be, and your mum already expects you to carry the whole house. If he’s offering to provide for the baby and help your family, don’t dismiss it without thinking.”

“I’d be marrying a man who doesn’t even like me.”

“And you don’t like him either.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Tessa reached for my hand. “But you don’t have to pretend it’s a love story. You can decide whether it’s a practical choice.”

I pulled my hand away and stood, unable to sit still.

“I had a plan, Tess. I was going to save money, get into nursing school, and finally build a life that belonged to me. I thought I’d work hard, pay my fees, and make sure my siblings didn’t have to struggle the way we did.”

My voice caught. I turned toward the window before she could see my eyes fill.

“Now I don’t even know if I’ll be able to finish school. I don’t know what pregnancy will mean for my plans, or whether I’ll have enough money to raise this baby. And I hate that I’m even considering this because I’m scared of being poor forever.”

Tessa came to stand beside me. “Being scared doesn’t make you weak. And making a decision for your future doesn’t mean you’ve failed.”

I swallowed hard. My mind went to Lily, my brother, my other sister, and my mother counting money at the kitchen table. I thought of the empty cupboards, the bills, and all the times I’d promised myself things would be different when I finally got into nursing school.

I’d wanted to save them. I’d wanted to save myself, too.

Was I about to trade away the future I’d dreamed of to keep everyone else afloat?

“I don’t want my child growing up hungry,” I whispered.

“Then whatever you choose, make sure you understand the terms. Don’t agree to anything blindly. Read every page. Ask questions. You’re allowed to protect yourself, too.”

That night, I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damian’s face and the contract lying between us. I pictured saying no and returning to the same cramped house, stretching my wages until they were gone. Then I pictured saying yes and waking up every day beside a man who had already made it clear I meant nothing to him.

Neither future felt like mine.

By morning, I was exhausted from arguing with myself. I sat on the edge of my bed, opened Damien’s contact, and typed a message. I deleted it twice before forcing myself to send it.

Isabelle: I’ve thought about your proposal. I agree.

His reply arrived a few minutes later.

Damian: My personal lawyer will meet us tomorrow at 10 a.m. at my office. Come prepared to review and sign the agreement.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Tomorrow, my life could change completely.

I set the phone down and pressed a hand against my stomach. I still didn’t know whether I was making the right choice. I only knew that the decision was no longer a thought I could push away.

I had agreed to marry Damian Whitmore.

And I was terrified of what that yes would cost me.