Chapter Eight: The Proposal

AVA

I hadn't eaten in two days. Food felt like betrayal when my son was somewhere I couldn't reach him, being cared for by strangers who were slowly erasing me from his memory. The empty apartment echoed with his absence, every corner holding ghosts of his laughter.

The knock on my door came at exactly seven in the evening. I already knew who it would be.

Liam stood in my doorway looking like he'd stepped off the cover of a business magazine. His charcoal suit probably cost more than my annual rent, and his storm-gray eyes were unreadable as they took in my appearance. I knew how I looked, hollow-eyed, wearing the same clothes for three days, broken.

"You look terrible," he said without preamble.

"Thanks. That's exactly what every woman wants to hear."

"May I come in?"

I wanted to slam the door in his face, but curiosity won. "What do you want, Liam?"

He walked past me into the small living room, his presence making the space feel even more cramped and shabby. He didn't sit down, just stood there radiating controlled power.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Let me guess. Sign over my parental rights and you'll let me see Eli once a month?"

"Actually, no." He turned to face me, and something in his expression made my breath catch. "I want you to marry me."

I stared at him for a full ten seconds, waiting for the punchline. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me correctly. Marriage. A legal, binding contract between us."

"Are you insane?"

"Quite the opposite. I'm being practical." He moved closer, and I caught a hint of his expensive cologne. "Eli needs stability. He needs both his parents in his life. This arrangement would provide that."

"This arrangement?" I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You mean this business deal. Because that's what you're talking about, isn't it? Not marriage. A merger."

"Call it whatever you like. The terms are simple. You become my wife, live in my penthouse, and have daily access to our son. In return, you play the role of Mrs. Blackwood in public and follow certain... guidelines in private."

"Guidelines?"

"Nothing inappropriate. Separate bedrooms, obviously. Public appearances when required. No interference with my business or personal affairs."

"Personal affairs?" The words tasted bitter. "You mean like Victoria?"

His jaw tightened slightly. "My relationships outside our arrangement are not your concern."

"And what about my relationships? Do I get to have personal affairs too?"

"No."

The flat, immediate response took me by surprise. "No? Just like that?"

"You'll be my wife. My wife doesn't sleep around."

"But you can?"

"I'm not the one who needs this arrangement to survive." His voice was cold, businesslike. "I'm offering you a way out of this mess, Ava. A way to be with Eli every day instead of two supervised hours per week."

"Why?" I searched his face for any hint of softness. "Why would you do this?"

"Because Eli needs his mother. Not every day, not as his primary caregiver, but he needs you in his life. The past week has shown me that."

Something in his tone made me look at him more carefully. "He's been asking for me."

Liam's silence was answered enough.

"He has, hasn't he? He's been crying for me."

"Children are adaptable. He'll adjust."

"But he hasn't yet." I felt the first spark of hope I'd had in days. "He's missing me."

"This conversation isn't about his emotional adjustment. It's about providing him with the best possible future."

"A future that includes both his parents."

"In a controlled, stable environment. Yes."

I walked to the window, staring out at the city lights. Somewhere out there, my baby was going to sleep without his bedtime story, without my voice singing him lullabies, without me.

"What's the catch?" I asked without turning around.

"No catch. Just terms and conditions."

"There's always a catch with you."

"The prenuptial agreement is extensive. You'll want to read it carefully."

I turned back to face him. "You already have it drawn up? How long have you been planning this?"

"Since the day I realized you were the mother of my child."

"So this whole custody battle, taking Eli away, it was all to force me into this?"

"It was to show you the reality of your situation. You can't provide for him the way I can. But I recognize he needs you too. This is a compromise."

"A compromise." I repeated the word like it was foreign. "You destroy my life, take my child, and then offer me scraps of my old existence back, and you call it a compromise?"

"I call it the best deal you're going to get."

He was right, and we both knew it. Without this arrangement, I'd see Eli two hours a week until some judge decided I was fit to have more time. If that day ever came.

"I need guarantees," I said. "Real guarantees, not just your word."

"Such as?"

"Daily access to Eli. Not just seeing him, but actual parenting time. Feeding him, bathing him, putting him to bed."

"Agreed."

"I want a say in his education, his medical care, his upbringing."

Liam's expression didn't change. "We'll discuss major decisions together."

"No. Equal say. Not you graciously allow me to voice an opinion."

"Ava." His voice carried a warning. "Don't push too hard. You're not in a position to make demands."

"Aren't I? You came to me, remember? You need something from me, or you wouldn't be here."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Respect, maybe. Or annoyance.

"Fine. Equal input on major decisions regarding Eli."

"And I want this arrangement reviewed annually. If it's not working, if you're not holding up your end, I want out."

"With what? You'll have no independent income, no job skills, no support system outside of what I provide."

"Then I guess you'd better make sure it works."

He studied me for a long moment, and I saw something I hadn't expected. A slight smile.

"Very well. Annual reviews."

"When would this arrangement begin?"

"Immediately. Tonight, if you agree."

"Tonight?"

"Eli is staying in a hotel suite with his nanny. You could see him within the hour."

My heart clenched. "He's that close?"

"I told you I was being practical. So, do we have a deal?"

I closed my eyes, weighing my soul against my son's wellbeing. When I opened them, Liam was watching me with those penetrating gray eyes.

"Yes," I whispered. "We have a deal."

He pulled out his phone and made a quick call. "Morrison? She agreed. Have the papers ready in an hour."

One hour later, I sat in the same law office where I'd refused to sign the custody agreement. This time, the documents were thicker, more complex. Marriage license, prenuptial agreement, custody modifications.

"Just sign where you see the yellow tabs," Morrison said, sliding the papers across his desk.

I started reading the first page of the prenup, but the legal language was dense and confusing. "Can I take this home to review?"

"The offer expires in ten minutes," Liam said from his chair beside me. "Sign now, or the deal is off."

"Ten minutes isn't enough time to read all this."

"It's a standard prenuptial agreement."

I flipped through the pages, trying to scan the important parts. Financial arrangements, property rights, termination clauses. And then I saw it, buried in section twelve, subsection four.

"The male party shall have final authority over all decisions regarding the minor child's education, religious upbringing, medical care, and general welfare."

My blood turned cold. "This says you have final authority over Eli."

"It's standard language."

"You said equal input on major decisions."

"And you'll have input. I'll just have the final say."

"That's not what we agreed."

"Read more carefully, Ava. That's exactly what we agreed."

I looked up at him, seeing the trap he'd laid so carefully. "You lied to me."

"I gave you exactly what you asked for. The ability to voice your opinion. I never said I'd follow it."

"This isn't a compromise. This is ownership."

"Yes," he said simply. "It is."

I stared at the document, at the line waiting for my signature. In the distance, I could hear the faint sound of a child crying, and I wondered if it was Eli, calling for a mother who was about to sign away her right to protect him..