Chapter 4: The Contract

I spent most of the morning staring at Nathan Cross's number before finally accepting what I had been avoiding. I had contacted every serious investor I could find, approached banks that had once competed for my father's business, and exhausted every realistic opportunity to raise enough money to save Bennett Industries. I had spent twenty-one days proving that I could fight for my father's company without Nathan's help, but the results had left me with no meaningful alternative. If I wanted to keep Bennett Industries alive, I needed Nathan's help, although needing his help did not mean I had to surrender control of my life.

I finally called his number, and he answered after the second ring, his calm voice immediately reminding me that he had probably expected this call from the moment he gave me the thirty-day deadline. “I was wondering when you would call, Celine,” Nathan said.

His confidence irritated me, and I tightened my grip on the phone before replying, “Do not sound so pleased with yourself. I am calling because I want to discuss your proposal, not because I have suddenly changed my opinion of you.”

“I understand,” Nathan replied. “My office is available whenever you are ready to meet.”

“I will come this afternoon,” I told him. “I am not agreeing to anything until I understand every condition.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Nathan answered.

When I arrived at Cross Enterprises that afternoon, his assistant led me directly to his office. Nathan was standing beside the windows overlooking the city, and when he turned toward me, his expression remained as composed as it had been the first time we met. I placed my folder on his desk and sat across from him, determined not to let the familiarity of the room make me feel as though I had returned because he had won.

“You came back,” Nathan observed.

“I told you I would consider your offer if I could not find another solution,” I replied. “I have considered it, and I am here to negotiate.”

Nathan gestured toward the chair opposite his desk as he answered, “Then let us negotiate.”

I opened my folder and looked directly at him. “The first condition is that Bennett Industries remains my company. You can clear the immediate debt and restructure the remaining obligations, but you will not take control of the company's daily operations. I will remain CEO, and I will make the business decisions.”

Nathan listened without interrupting before answering, “That can be arranged.”

His immediate agreement surprised me, but I continued. “You will also not use this marriage to interfere with my career, my employees, or my personal decisions. I agreed to consider your proposal because I need your financial assistance, not because I am looking for someone to control my life.”

“I have no intention of controlling your life,” Nathan replied.

“Then I want that protection written into the contract,” I said.

Nathan opened a document on his desk and pushed it toward me. “It already is.”

I looked at the pages in surprise before asking, “You prepared the contract before I accepted?”

“I prepared it when I made the offer,” Nathan explained. “I did not know whether you would accept, but I prefer to be prepared.”

I picked up the document and began reading carefully. The agreement was surprisingly straightforward. The marriage would last one year, neither of us would interfere in the other's career, and the arrangement would remain confidential except where disclosure was legally necessary or required for business purposes. We would maintain separate personal lives, and neither of us would expect affection or emotional commitment from the other.

Then I reached the final clause, and I read it again before looking up at him. “You included a clause stating that neither spouse can fall in love with the other?”

Nathan remained calm as he answered, “That is one of the conditions.”

I lowered the contract slightly and asked, “How exactly do you expect two married people to control whether they fall in love?”

“I expect us to remember why we are getting married,” Nathan replied. “This is an arrangement, Celine, and nothing more.”

His answer should have reassured me, but instead, something about the certainty in his voice made me uncomfortable. I returned my attention to the contract and continued reading before asking, “What happens after the year is over?”

“The marriage ends,” Nathan answered.

“And what happens to Bennett Industries?” I asked.

Nathan looked directly at me as he replied, “The debt will have been restructured according to our agreement, and you will continue running the company.”

I studied his expression before asking, “You are giving me all of this without asking for ownership?”

“I told you that I do not want your father's company,” Nathan said. “I want the marriage.”

“Why?” I asked. “You still have not given me a reason that makes sense.”

Nathan was silent for a moment before answering, “Because I need a wife for one year.”

“That is not an explanation,” I replied.

“It is the only explanation you need before signing,” Nathan said.

I frowned as I looked at him. “That answer makes me uncomfortable.”

“You do not have to trust me,” Nathan replied. “You only have to understand the agreement.”

I looked back at the contract and realized that he was right about one thing. Every condition was clear, and there was nothing complicated hidden behind legal language. If I thought of the arrangement as a business agreement rather than a marriage, perhaps I could live with it for one year. More importantly, it would save the company my father had spent thirty years building.

“I have two more conditions,” I said.

Nathan leaned back slightly and asked, “What are they?”

“You will never use anything that happens inside this marriage against me in business,” I told him. “If we have an argument, a disagreement, or any personal problem, it stays between us and cannot affect Bennett Industries.”

Nathan considered the condition briefly before answering, “Agreed.”

I continued, “If either of us wants to change something in the contract, we discuss it together before making any decision that affects the other person.”

“Agreed,” Nathan replied.

I looked at the document one final time before asking, “Are you certain you want to do this?”

Nathan held my gaze as he answered, “I would not have made the offer if I were uncertain.”

His certainty unsettled me, but I pushed the feeling aside and signed my name at the bottom of the agreement. Nathan signed beneath my signature, then closed the contract and placed his hand on it as though sealing a business deal.

“It is official,” Nathan said.

I gathered my copy and answered, “For one year.”

Nathan's eyes remained on mine as he replied, “For one year.”

I stood and prepared to leave, but Nathan's next words stopped me before I reached the door. “Our wedding will take place next week.”

I turned toward him in surprise and asked, “Next week? You already arranged a wedding date?”

“I made preliminary arrangements because there was no reason to wait once you accepted the agreement,” Nathan explained. “If we are going to convince everyone that this marriage is real, we cannot afford to look like two strangers who signed a business contract.”

I stared at him, suddenly aware that signing the agreement had been the easy part. In one week, I would have to stand beside Nathan Cross in front of our families, friends, employees, and the public, and pretend that becoming his wife was something I had chosen for reasons other than saving my father's company.

As I walked toward the elevator with the contract secured inside my folder, I tried to convince myself that one year would be easy to survive. What I did not understand yet was that the contract had been designed to prevent the one thing neither of us expected to happen, and the more I thought about Nathan's final clause, the more certain I became that there was a reason he had been so determined to include it.