Chapter 2

Helena's POV 

What could she be referring to? I wasn't in the mood for more stress.

I frowned. “A solution?” I finally asked.

She nodded. “Yes, if you’re willing to listen,” she replied.

My heart skipped a beat. A part of me jumped with hope, while another part was more skeptical than anything else.

My thoughts dangled between both sides. “What kind of solution?” I asked carefully.

That only made her smile wider. “One that might give you exactly what you’re looking for,” she replied.

And for the first time since I’d walked out of that house, I didn’t feel quite so alone.

But I knew I should have walked away.

I knew that was the sensible thing to do, just thank the strange woman for listening, laugh politely at whatever ridiculous advice she was about to offer, and leave. 

People didn’t just hand out solutions to problems like mine. 

I mean, it's not everyday people go about telling their problems to strangers, especially ones that involve arranged marriages and controlling grandfathers.

And yet, I stayed.

“Okay,” I said cautiously, shifting my weight on the bench. “I’m listening,” I added.

The woman’s smile softened, as if she’d expected my answer. “First,” she started, “let me introduce myself. You can call me Helen.”

“Helen,” I repeated after her slowly. “Funny. Similar names,” I remarked.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah, I'm Helena,” I stated.

She chuckled. “Perhaps fate has a sense of humor afterall,” she teased.

I wasn’t sure I believed in fate, but something about the way she said it kept me quiet.

“You want to escape a marriage that’s already been arranged,” Helen continued calmly. “And your grandfather isn’t looking like the kind that takes no for an answer,” she repeated.

“Yeah, if you are putting it mildly,” I muttered.

“Then the only way to nullify his arrangement,” she said, “is to already be married,” she announced.

I stared at her blankly, awaiting the punchline that never came. 

“I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “What?”

“Get married to someone else,” she added, as if that made it any better.

A sharp laugh burst out of me. “That’s not a solution. That’s insanity.”

“Is it?” Helen asked gently. “Legally speaking, once you’re married, any prior arrangement becomes irrelevant,” she clarified.

My heart began to pound. “You’re telling me to run off and marry some random man?”

“No, my dear. I’m telling you,” she paused, giving me a full minute wait before continuing. “To marry my grandson.”

The world tilted, then I stood up abruptly. “No. No, absolutely not. I don’t even know you,” I exclaimed honestly.

“That’s true,” she said calmly. “But you don’t know the man your grandfather chose either,” she shot back.

“That’s different,” I replied.

“Is it?” She asked again, unbothered by my reaction. “At least this way, you’d be choosing,” she said calmly.

I shook my head, backing away. “This is crazy. You’re crazy,” I retorted.

Helen laughed, the sound still warm and light in my ears. “Perhaps, but desperate times do call for desperate actions,” she replied gently.

I ran a hand through my hair, my thoughts had already begun racing. “Why would your grandson agree to something like this?”

“Because he trusts me,” she replied simply.

“And what’s in it for him?” I demanded.

“A wife, on paper,” she replied again. “Nothing more.”

That phrase stuck with me. On paper.

“There would be rules,” Helen continued. “Clear boundaries, no expectations beyond the contract. And when the time comes, the marriage can be dissolved quietly, with no fuss,” she explained.

A part of me wasn't pleased with that. “I wouldn’t even have to meet him?” I asked , against my better judgement.

She smiled. “Not unless you both choose to,” she replied.

My chest tightened. “This sounds like something out of a Tom Cruise movie,” I cracked.

She laughed softly. “I guess those stories exist because they work,” she added softly.

I looked away, staring at the empty path ahead of us. 

I thought of my grandfather’s cold expression. I thought of the way he’d looked at me like I was only there to do his bidding.

Like I was something he had purchased.

“I don’t even know his name,” I said quietly.

“You don’t need to,” Helen replied. “In fact, it’s better if you don’t,” she added softly.

I turned to her sharply. “Why?” I asked.

“Because anonymity keeps things clean,” she said. “No attachments. No complications.”

My stomach twisted. “You’re serious.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise,” she replied.

I sank back onto the bench as my legs felt suddenly weak. 

This was insane, reckless and pretty dangerous.

But it was also the only realistic way out of my papa's plans.

“What about my life?” I asked. “My job?” I added even if I knew I had none.

“You continue as you are,” Helen said. “This marriage isn't to cage you, my dear. It's to free you.”

The word echoed in my head. Freedom.

I closed my eyes, breathing out slowly. “If I say yes,” I said slowly, “I need conditions.”

“Of course,” Helen said approvingly.

“No contact beyond what’s necessary,” I said. “No showing up unannounced. No controlling behavior.”

“Agreed.”

“And if either of us wants out,” I added, “we walk away. No drama.”

She nodded. “Agreed, that's what it's all about,” she replied.

I hesitated. “And no real names if I can't know his,” I said.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, nicknames rather,” she said softly.

I swallowed. “Fine.”

The word felt heavy as it left my mouth.

Helen stood up abruptly. “Then we should proceed quickly. Before your grandfather makes his next move,” she said with a nod.

We took a cab to the nearest courthouse and Helen brought out a bundle of papers and handed them to the clerk like she came prepared.

The official arrangements were done and I signed the papers with a hand that trembled all the way. 

This didn’t feel real. It felt like stepping into a story that wasn’t mine.

“What nickname would you like to use?” the clerk asked me as I concluded the signing process.

I hesitated, then said the first thing that came to my mind. “Lena.”

Helen gave me an approving nod from beside me.

When it was done, when the ink dried and the documents were filed, I stared at the marriage certificate in disbelief.

And just like that, I am married. And to a man I’d never met.

As I stepped outside, my phone buzzed.

Barron's POV 

My phone buzzed on my thigh and I picked it up to find a message from my grandmother.

She's all I have left as I lost my father and mother a while back and she's been my support all through, at least emotionally.

I respected her and would do anything she wants as she's the only family I have left.

I opened her message and read it slowly.

“I've found you the perfect contract wife. She's signed all the necessary papers. Below is her number.”

And after that messaged followed a set of numbers.

I took a deep breath, she had brought this up a few times and I never thought she would pull it through.

But here it was. My ‘wife’s’ number.

And before I could overthink everything, I did the first thing that came to mind.