The CEO's Contract Wife

Chapter 3

Two more hours of fake tears and whispered gossip crawled by. I felt like a museum exhibit, on display for people to gawk at. By the time the last black SUV pulled away from the Summer Palace, the only people left were Nathan, Attorney Valdez, and Lola Imelda.

I had begged Gio to stay. I wanted him there when the will was read—I needed a friend, not a business partner. But he said he had to drive Andrea home because she had a "migraine" from crying so much.

I didn't have the energy to beg. I let him go.

We drove back to my father's house in Dasmariñas Village. The silence in the car was heavy. When we arrived, we headed straight for his home office. It still smelled like him—tobacco, old books, and expensive leather.

Nathan went straight to the narra cabinet where Dad kept his private reserve. He poured two glasses of Macallan and handed one to me. We downed them in unison. The liquor burned my throat, a welcome distraction from the numbness in my chest.

Nathan let out a short, dark chuckle. It was the first time I’d heard him make a sound that wasn't strictly professional in days.

"Okay," Attorney Valdez said, opening his briefcase. He looked exhausted. He had been my father’s golf buddy and legal counsel for twenty years. He knew where all the skeletons were buried. "Let's get this over with."

He adjusted his glasses and sighed. "Mr. Alcantara has left the rest house in Tagaytay to his mother, Imelda Alcantara. The entirety of his remaining estate, including his majority shares in Alcantara Holdings, goes to his daughter, Isabelle."

He paused, holding the document like it was a loaded gun.

Lola Imelda shot up from her chair, her face twisting in ugly shock. "That's it? Just the house? What about the cash? The liquid assets? Is he expecting her to pay for my lifestyle now?"

She pointed a manicured finger at me.

My heart hardened. I had hoped, foolishly, that a small part of her was actually grieving. But no. She was just counting coins.

"The only asset bequeathed to you is the property in Tagaytay," Attorney Valdez said firmly. "Isabelle is under no legal obligation to provide you with a stipend."

She looked at me with pure venom. She realized the bank of Roberto was closed. Without a word, she grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the heavy mahogany door so hard the framed photos on the wall rattled.

Good riddance.

Attorney Valdez watched the door close, then turned his gaze back to me. He looked pained.

"There is... a condition," he said slowly. "Regarding the shares."

I braced myself. "What condition?"

"The will states that the 51% controlling stake will be transferred to Isabelle Alcantara only if she marries the individual chosen by her father within thirty days of his death."

Nathan froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

"If she does not," the lawyer continued, his voice dropping, "the shares will be transferred immediately to Imelda Alcantara."

The room spun.

"That's insane," I whispered. "I'm twenty-three. I just finished my MBA. Dad hated arranged marriages—he called them archaic. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't risk the company with her."

I looked at Attorney Valdez, begging him to say it was a sick joke. But he just looked at Nathan.

"Your father wants you to marry Nathan," Valdez said. "He wrote that he only trusts Nathan to guide you and the company."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Did you know?" I asked, my voice trembling. I turned to Nathan. "Did you know about this?"

Nathan looked up. He looked angry, but not shocked. "He... he hinted at things. Lately, he kept asking why I hadn't asked you out. He kept saying we'd be a 'power couple.' But I thought he was just being a meddling old man. I didn't think he'd put it in writing."

"I can't believe this," I muttered, pacing the room. "You're ten years older than me. You're practically my brother. And he knew..." I stopped myself. He knew I loved Gio.

How could he do this? How could he force me to marry the brother of the man I actually loved?

"Show me," I snapped, snatching the paper from Valdez.

It was there. In black and white. My final wish is for Isabelle to marry Nathan Sarmiento... to ensure the legacy remains intact...

I felt like screaming.

Nathan poured himself another drink and downed it. "What was the old man thinking?" he muttered. He leaned against the desk, looking at me. "But we can't lose those shares, Issa. If your grandmother gets 51%, she'll liquidate everything. She'll sell the company off for parts to buy handbags and condos. Alcantara Holdings will cease to exist."

I stared at the floor. He was right.

"He always wanted a son," I said bitterly. "I guess he figured out a way to get one from the grave."

Nathan flinched. He started pacing too. "Look. We can make it a business arrangement. A contract marriage. Strict pre-nup. Your assets remain yours. I won't touch a cent. We stay married for... however long the will requires. Then we annul. Clean break."

His voice was cold, clinical. Like he was negotiating a merger, not a marriage. It stung.

"There's more," Attorney Valdez interrupted.

We both stopped and looked at him.

"You must remain married and cohabitate until Isabelle turns twenty-five. If you separate or file for annulment before then, the shares revert to Imelda."

Two years.

"I can't believe he did this," I said, sinking onto the sofa.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than I had ever seen him. "I'll do it if you will. Honestly, Issa, we don't have a choice. You either marry me and sacrifice your love life for two years, or you lose everything your father built. It's not ideal for me either. The last thing I need is to babysit a twenty-three-year-old while trying to run two conglomerates. But I owe your dad everything. I won't let his legacy burn."

I glared at him. "Don't act like a martyr. You have a stake in this too. If the company goes under, your family's shares become worthless."

He ignored my jab. "I'm just stating facts. We’re in this mess together."

He looked at me with a strange expression. "And besides... it saves you from waiting around for someone who clearly doesn't see you that way."

My breath hitched. He knew. He knew about Gio. Did everyone know? Was I that pathetic?

"Fine," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "We have to do it."

Nathan nodded. He walked over to the window, staring out at the dark garden. "It's the only play."

Then, he turned around and walked toward me. To my shock, he dropped to one knee.

I froze. "What are you doing?"

He took my hand. His grip was firm, his eyes intense. For a second, he didn't look like my childhood friend's brother. He looked like a stranger.

"Isabelle Alcantara," he said, his voice low and serious. "Will you be my wife?"

I took a shaky breath. I thought of my father. I thought of the company. I thought of Gio with his arm around Andrea.

I nodded.

"Yes."