CONTRACT MARRIAGE

CHAPTER SIXTEEN — THE PRICE OF SILENCE

The video didn’t just go viral; it detonated. By the time we reached the penthouse, "The Ten Million Dollar Bride" was the top trending topic in the world. Every major news outlet had a side-by-side of our romantic balcony kiss and the grainy, cold footage of Julian calling me a "line item."

The elevator doors opened, and the silence of the apartment felt like a physical weight. Julian didn't look at me. He walked straight to the floor-to-ceiling window, his reflection staring back at him—a man who had just lost the one thing he prized above all else: his reputation for being untouchable.

"Julian," I said, my voice cracking.

"Don't," he barked, his back still turned. "I said those words. I sat in that chair, looked my grandfather in the eye, and told him exactly what he wanted to hear so I could get the signatures I needed. I treated you like a transaction, Elena. Because at the time, that’s all you were."

"And now?" I stepped closer, the glow of the city lights casting long, jagged shadows across the marble floor. "Am I still a line item? Or am I the woman who just walked into a Moretti lounge to save your neck?"

Julian turned then. The "Ice King" was gone. In his place was a man who looked utterly defeated. "The board is meeting in four hours. They’re going to demand my resignation. Arthur has already released a statement saying he’s 'appalled' by my deception. He’s playing the victim, Elena. He’s going to use this to cast me out and install Genevieve as his successor."

"He can't do that if we fight him together," I argued.

"Fight him with what? The world thinks I’m a predator and you’re a victim," Julian snapped. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a heavy, cream-colored envelope. He pushed it toward me. "It’s the wire transfer. The full ten million. Plus the deed to the Vance estate, fully cleared of debt."

I looked at the envelope as if it were a poisonous snake. "What is this?"

"Your exit strategy," Julian whispered, his voice rough. "If you leave now—if you hold a press conference and say you were coerced, that you only stayed to save your father—you can walk away with your head high. You’ll have the money. You’ll have your home. And you’ll never have to look at a Blackwood again."

"Is that what you want?" I felt a tear slip down my cheek, hot and stinging. "You’re giving me the money just to get me out of the line of fire?"

Julian stepped into my space, his hands hovering near my face but not touching me, as if he no longer had the right. "I’m giving you the money because it’s the only way I can protect you from the fallout of my own arrogance. I can survive being the villain, Elena. But I won't survive watching him destroy you just to get to me."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine for a fleeting second. "Go, Elena. Before the sun comes up. Before the lawyers arrive."

I looked at the envelope, then at the man who was willing to lose everything—his company, his legacy, and his pride—just to give me the life he had originally promised to buy.

I didn't take the envelope. Instead, I picked up the marriage certificate from the desk and tore it slowly, deliberately, into two pieces.

Julian froze. "What are you doing?"

"I'm tearing up the contract," I said, meeting his shocked gaze. "Because I don't want the ten million dollars, Julian. And I'm not leaving. If we're going to the board meeting, we're going as husband and wife. Not because of a legal filing, but because I’m the only person in this city who actually knows who you are."

I grabbed his hand, interlacing our fingers. "You said we needed an army? Well, you have the Morettis, and you have me. Let's go give your grandfather the retirement he deserves."