Terms and conditions

Chapter 3:

(Sophia’s POV)

I paced the length of the luxurious hotel suite, my mind spinning with everything that had just happened.

One year.

I had agreed to stay married to Damien Lancaster for an entire year.

The idea still felt surreal—like I was living someone else’s life.

I turned toward him, my so-called husband, who sat on the sleek leather couch, his long legs stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, my world had just been turned upside down.

How was he so calm about this?

“This is insane,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “I just agreed to marry a stranger. Do you realize how crazy this is?”

Damien barely lifted his gaze. “Technically, we’re already married.”

I shot him a glare. “Don’t remind me.”

He exhaled, clearly unbothered by my panic. “Look, Sophia. If we’re going to make this work, we need to set clear boundaries. A contract.”

I blinked. “A contract? You want to turn this into a business deal?”

“That’s exactly what it is.” His voice was calm, composed—like he was discussing stocks and investments instead of our sham of a marriage.

I scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m practical,” Damien corrected. “I’ll have my lawyers draft an agreement outlining the terms.”

Lawyers. A contract.

This wasn’t a marriage—it was a transaction.

I folded my arms. “And what would those terms be?”

Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes locked onto mine.

“You stay married to me for one year. You maintain the image of a dutiful wife. We make a few public appearances together—just enough to convince the press it’s real.”

I frowned. “And after a year?”

“We divorce quietly. You walk away with a financial settlement, and the media won’t care because the hype will have died down.”

It sounded logical. Too logical.

There was something unnerving about how calculated he was, as if our entire marriage could be reduced to numbers on a contract.

I hesitated. “And… what about personal boundaries?”

Damien’s lips twitched slightly. “You’ll have your own space. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

My breath hitched.

The way he said it—so effortlessly, so confidently—sent a strange shiver down my spine.

Unless I wanted him to.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thought away. “Okay… What about my career? My life? Do I have to drop everything to play the perfect wife?”

“Not at all,” Damien said smoothly. “You’ll have complete freedom to pursue your goals. I’ll even provide financial backing for your fashion brand.”

I froze.

My dream—launching my own fashion line—was the one thing I had always wanted but could never afford.

I stared at him, shocked. “You’d do that?”

“It’s in my best interest to keep you happy in this arrangement,” he replied simply. “A miserable wife leads to messy scandals. I don’t do messy.”

I studied him, searching for any sign of deception.

Damien Lancaster was offering me everything I had ever dreamed of—financial security, an opportunity to launch my career, and a way out of this media storm.

But in exchange, I had to be his wife.

For an entire year.

Could I really do this?

I inhaled sharply. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Damien stood and extended his hand. “Then it’s settled.”

I hesitated, but then placed my hand in his.

His grip was firm, warm, and strangely reassuring.

As he shook my hand, a strange sense of finality settled over me.

This wasn’t just a deal.

It was the beginning of something dangerous.

And I wasn’t sure if I’d come out of it unscathed.

---

(Damien’s POV)

Sophia’s fingers were small and delicate in mine.

But her grip? Strong. Resolute.

She had no idea what she was getting into.

I watched her closely as she pulled her hand away, chewing on her lower lip. She didn’t trust me.

Good.

Trust had no place in business.

And that’s exactly what this was—a business arrangement.

I turned toward the minibar, pouring myself a glass of whiskey. “We’ll need to make our first public appearance soon.”

Sophia groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “The press is already watching.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “I hate this.”

I smirked. “It’s just one year, sweetheart.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Don’t call me that.”

Amused, I took a slow sip of my drink. “Noted.”

She huffed, arms folded across her chest. “You think this is funny?”

I tilted my head, studying her. “I think it’s necessary.”

Sophia let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. What’s next?”

I set my glass down, stepping toward her. “We’ll have my lawyers draft the contract today. Then, we make our first public appearance together.”

She frowned. “What kind of appearance?”

“A charity gala in New York,” I said smoothly. “It’ll be our official ‘debut’ as a married couple.”

Her expression turned stormy. “A gala? You mean, I have to dress up and pretend to be the perfect wife in front of a bunch of billionaires?”

I smirked. “Exactly.”

Sophia groaned. “This keeps getting worse.”

I chuckled. “You’ll survive.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.”

I picked up my phone, texting my assistant.

Me: Draft the marriage contract. Full confidentiality. Sophia Carter agrees to a one-year arrangement. Financial settlement upon divorce.

Within seconds, my assistant responded.

Assistant: Understood. Contract will be ready in an hour.

I glanced back at Sophia. She looked tense, like she was already regretting this.

I didn’t blame her.

She should.

---

(Sophia’s POV)

The reality of my decision sank in as I stared at Damien.

My husband.

The man who had coldly turned our marriage into a business deal.

And yet…

I couldn’t ignore the way my heart pounded every time he looked at me.

I swallowed hard. “Fine. We’ll do the gala.”

Damien’s lips curved slightly. “Smart choice.”

I scowled. Cocky bastard.

He picked up his phone. “I’ll have a stylist sent to you.”

“I can dress myself,” I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t doubt that. But if we’re making an appearance, we need to make a statement.”

I sighed, knowing he was right.

This was my life now.

And there was no turning back.