THE CONTRACT*
549 Words
*Chapter 3: The Contract*
The papers were waiting on my kitchen table.
All 20 pages of them.
"Marriage Contract Between Damian Hart and Anovia Cole."
I stared at it. My name next to his. It didn’t feel real.
There was a knock on the door. 8:00 PM sharp.
I opened it.
Damian stood there. No bodyguards this time. Just him. In jeans and a black shirt. He looked... younger. Less like a CEO, more like the man from that night.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
I stepped aside.
He walked in and immediately looked around my tiny apartment. The cracked paint. The second-hand couch. The crib I’d bought from a thrift store and was still assembling.
His jaw tightened. "This is where you live?"
"Don’t," I warned. "Don’t do the rich guy pity thing."
He didn’t respond. He just sat down at the table and tapped the contract. "Read it."
I sat across from him. The smell of his cologne filled the small room.
*Article 1: Marriage Duration*
_One year. Divorce will be filed on the baby’s first birthday._
*Article 2: Living Arrangements*
_Separate bedrooms. No physical intimacy required._
*Article 3: Financial Support*
_$50,000 monthly allowance. All medical expenses covered._
*Article 4: Public Image*
_Appear as a happy couple at 2 events per month._
My hands were shaking. "$50,000... a month?"
"For the baby," Damian said quickly. "And for you. To quit that diner."
"I’m not quitting," I said. "That was one of my terms."
Damian sighed. "Fine. Keep your job until month 7."
I kept reading. Then I stopped.
*Article 5: No Feelings Clause*
_Neither party shall develop romantic feelings. This is a business arrangement only._
I laughed. It hurt. "No feelings? Right."
Damian’s eyes met mine. Gray and unreadable. "Do we have a problem with that clause?"
"Should I?" I shot back.
Silence.
Then he leaned forward. "Sign it, Anovia."
"What if I don’t?"
"Then I do what I said I would do. Lawyers. Custody battle." He said it calmly. Like he was discussing the weather.
My chest tightened. This was blackmail. But it was also... protection. For the baby.
I picked up the pen.
"Wait," Damian said suddenly.
I froze.
He reached across the table and took my hand. His was warm. Big. It swallowed mine.
"Last chance to say no," he whispered. "After this, there’s no going back."
I looked at him. Really looked. Past the billionaire. To the man who was just as scared as me.
For a second, I thought about saying no. About running.
But then I thought about the baby. About stability. About not being alone.
"I’m doing this for the baby," I whispered.
"Me too," he whispered back.
I signed. Anovia Cole.
He signed next. Damian Hart.
The moment the pen left the paper, my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: `Congratulations Mrs. Hart. The wedding is tomorrow at 10AM. Hart Estate. Don’t be late. - D`
Mrs. Hart.
I was going to be Mrs. Hart.
Damian stood up. "I’ll send a car for you at 9."
He walked to the door, then turned back.
"And Anovia?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
The door closed.
And I was left alone in my apartment, holding a marriage contract.
Tomorrow I would marry a stranger.
Tomorrow I would become a Hart.
God help me.
---
- Writer
