3:Sign It, Reva

Reva's POV

The car was black. The driver said nothing the whole way.

I sat in the back with the folder on my lap. My hands would not stop shaking. I felt sick. This was really happening. I was going to see Nico Castellano alone.

The woman at the front desk smiled, but her eyes looked at me with pure disdain. Like I was dirt on her shoe. She walked me straight to his door.

He was already seated when I walked in. No greeting. No standing up. Just those dark eyes tracking me from the door to the chair across from him.

I sat down fast. I was not going to wait for his permission.

“You know why you are here,” he said.

“I would like to hear you say it.”

He opened the folder and pushed it across the desk. “Contract marriage. You take my name publicly. We make one appearance per week for six months. After that the story dies and we reassess.”

I opened the folder. My face squeezed tight as I read the lines. Move into his residence. Attend every function as his wife. Provide an heir within the first year. No press without approval. I looked at Nico, then back at the paper. I dropped the folder on the table hard.

“You expect me to sign this?” I asked, my voice shaking with anger.

“You’re going to anyway,” he said.

“A contract marriage???” I burst out. “What about Petra?? She was the one engaged to you!”

He ignored me completely. “You will take my name publicly and I do not care about your sister and you shouldn’t.”

My throat felt tight. “And the rest?”

“You move into my residence within the week. You attend all family and business functions as my wife. You do not speak to the press without my approval.”

My voice came out small. “And the heir clause. I read the summary. I want to hear you say that part too.”

His jaw moved. “You will provide an heir within the first year of marriage.”

I felt the words like a punch. “Provide. Like I am a service.”

“Those are the terms.”

My eyes burned. I blinked hard. “And if I say no?”

He leaned back. “The Aldridge name carries a debt to this family. A big one your father has avoided for three years. If this arrangement does not happen I redirect my attention to that debt. Immediately.”

My hands pressed flat on my knees under the table. They were cold. “So marry you or watch my family burn.”

“I would not have used those words.”

“But that is what you mean.”

He said nothing. That silence hurt more than any answer.

I stood up fast. My legs felt weak. “I need time.”

“You have two hours.”

I grabbed the folder and walked out. My chest ached the whole way down in the elevator. No one was coming to save me. Not my father. Not my mother. Not even Petra.

The drive to my father’s house felt too short. I wanted more time to think. More time to breathe.

I walked into the sitting room. My mother sat on the sofa. She looked at me, then looked down at her hands.

My father stood by the fireplace. His face was hard.

“Papa,” I said. My voice cracked.

“Do not Papa me,” he snapped. “You have dragged this family’s name through the gutter. Your face is on every screen beside that man and you walk in here like you did nothing wrong.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I did not do anything. Someone drugged me at the gala. I woke up with no memory. Petra...”

“Do not bring your sister into this.”

“Petra arranged it!” My voice rose. “She put something in my drink. She set the whole thing up because she wanted out of the engagement and she used me!”

“Enough!” he shouted. “Enough of this nonsense. You are going to stand there and blame your sister for your own lack of discipline? You have always been jealous of Petra. Always. And now you sleep with her fiancé and you want to make her the villain?”

Pain shot through my chest. “Papa, she told me herself—”

“I said enough, Reva.” He pointed at me. “You should be ashamed. Your sister’s fiancé. Of all the men in this city. Have you no decency? No shame at all?”

The words cut deep. I felt my face burn. My eyes filled with tears. “I came here because I need your help. Nico wants me to sign a marriage contract, or he goes after the family debt. Please, Papa. Tell me there is another way.”

He straightened his back. “Sign it.”

“Papa—”

“Sign it, Reva.” His voice was cold. “You made this bed. Now you lie in it. At least this way something useful comes out of your disgrace.”

Something useful. The words made my stomach turn. I looked at my mother. “Mama… please.”

She did not look up. She did not speak. Her hands stayed in her lap.

Tears ran down my cheeks now. I did not wipe them. “Mama, say something. Anything. I am your daughter. I am scared. I do not want this.”

Silence.

I turned back to my father. My voice shook. “You are really going to make me do this? You will not even try to fight for me?”

He turned his back to the fireplace. “I have fought enough for this family. You are the one who broke it.”

I stood there. My whole body hurt. My heart felt like it was cracking open. No one was coming. No one was going to save me.

I called Petra on the way out. Voicemail. I called again. Voicemail. I sent a message. No reply.

She was gone. Smoothing her own path like she always did. Leaving me in the mess.

I walked down the path to the gate alone. The evening air felt cold on my wet face. The folder in my hand felt heavier than stone.

I pushed the gate open.

My heart stopped.

Someone was standing right there.

“What the… What are you doing here?”