CHAPTER 13: THE CONTRACT MARRIAGE

Xander was right about that one thing---- whoever hired those men could send them after me and the baby again.

That thought has carved a permanent scar in my brain, and while I don’t trust Xander, I trust the bad feeling creeping around me even less.

But if he thinks I’m walking down an aisle without a damn lifeline he’s about to meet a different kind of woman.

I march into his home office, which somehow still smells like him— cologne and absolute arrogance.

He looks up from his laptop, raising his eyebrows.

“You’re awake early.”

“I didn’t sleep,” I say flatly. “I was too busy thinking about that contract you want to sign with my uterus.”

At that, Xander shuts the laptop slowly, like he already knows what’s coming. “Go on.”

“If I marry you,” I begin, “it’s going to be on my terms.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re negotiating a proposal?”

“I’m not a woman you own, Xander. I’m the woman carrying your child--- I've already said that before. I won’t be shackled into a fake marriage without some guarantees.”

His eyes narrow at my words, “What guarantees?”

“A contract,” I say and drop the folder that I had prepared through the night onto his desk.

“It states that this marriage will last until the baby is born, and after that, I'll leave. No strings attached like you said, no custody war and no public dragging. You'll get your heir and I'll get my freedom.”

He doesn’t touch the folder. “So that’s how little you think of me.”

I laugh. “Don’t act wounded now. This was never about love for you, this is about a PR clean-up job and your 'Board'.”

"Do you think you can walk away from me that easily, Athena?”

I meet his glare head- on.

“I don’t just think, I demand. You said it yourself that we'll get a divorce.”

"That was yesterday," he says and pushes off the desk, walking around it slowly and stalking toward me.

“When the offer was there and you walked away from it. Now let me be clear.”

I blink at that, but still keep looking at him.

“I've changed my mind. If you marry me,” he says, circling me.

“you won’t just be my wife for show. You’ll sleep in my bed, eat at my table, bear my name and once that baby’s born…”

I flinch, but don’t look away from him.

“You’ll still be mine,” he finishes. “No contract can change that.”

I laugh again, but this time the sound is rather dry.

“Then we have no deal.”

I turn to walk away but he grabs my arm.

“You’re safer with me than against me,” he says quietly.

“And whether you admit it or not, I’m the only one standing between you and whoever wants you and that child gone.”

However I yank my arm free from his grip. “Then protect me on my terms, not on yours.”

He doesn't say anything to that and so we stare each other down for about a full minute then finally, he mutters,

"Fine. Draft your damn contract again if you want to, but don’t think you’ll ever be free of me.”

I smile sweetly. “That’s what lawyers are for.”

However what he says next brings my smile down.

"I won't be signing it at all."

------------

Later that evening, I’m standing in front of a mirror in a champagne colored designer gown that clings to my baby bump, and I don’t recognize myself... at all.

Hell, this isn’t my life.

Behind me, Xander is adjusting his tie and dragging his eyes up my reflection.

“You look… expensive.”

“I feel like a mannequin,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at his half compliment.

“What is this press event again?”

“A public announcement of our engagement; to control the narrative, remember?”

“I said yes to marrying you,” I snap, “not being paraded like a prize.”

“You’re carrying the next Knight heir. You’ve always been a prize.”

I stiffen and turn around to face him, “Don’t objectify me.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says lowly, giving me a slightly tired look.

“But you make it very hard.”

"And you make it very easy to hate you.”

-------------

Xander guides me through the crowd with his hand placed on the small of my back as the paparazzi surround us.

“Smile,” he mutters to me, “You’re ruining my image.”

“I’m ruining your image? You're the one who knocked up a stranger and proposed to her in the middle of a scandal.”

He turns his head to me and smirks. “And yet you’re still glowing. Hormones, maybe?”

I scowl at him. “You’re disgusting.” Though I don't really mean that.

We pose in front of a very massive white floral backdrop with lots of cameras taking pictures of us, and then a journalist shouts:

“Miss Foster, how does it feel to be engaged to a billionaire while carrying his child?”

I open my mouth to answer but then my eyes catch Veronica watching us from beside a buffet table.

She’s in purple---- not sure how that suits her.

She raises her champagne glass at me with a smile and I turn my head to Xander so the press don't catch my frown.

“She shouldn’t be here,” I murmur to him.

“She’s a Sterling,” he mutters back. “This is her circle too.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be in this circle.”

He doesn’t respond to that and guides me away from the white backdrop and over to the VIP chairs.

The lights in the hall dim for a bit as the host welcomes everyone.

Xander leans in then to whisper something to my ears.

... But then there's a gunshot.