Purchased Vows

Chapter 7: The Stand

I didn't see Marcus for three days.

Three days of hiding in my room, of pretending I didn't exist, of trying to process what was happening to my body, to my life.

Three days of morning sickness that left me weak and exhausted. Three days of staring at my reflection, trying to see the changes, trying to understand how my life had become this.

On the fourth day, I forced myself to leave my room. To face him. To make him understand that this was happening, whether he liked it or not.

I found him in his study, working, his expression closed off. He didn't look up when I entered, didn't acknowledge me at all.

"Marcus," I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you." His voice was cold, flat. "You made your choice. Live with it."

"I did make my choice. And I'm keeping the baby." I moved closer, forcing him to look at me. "But we need to talk about what happens next. About the contract. About how this changes things."

"Nothing changes." He finally looked up, and I saw the anger in his eyes. The resentment. "The contract stands. One year. Then you're gone."

"Even with a baby?" I asked, my voice rising. "You want me to just... disappear? To raise your child alone, with no support, no help?"

"That's your choice. You chose to keep it. You deal with the consequences."

"The consequences?" I moved closer, my hands shaking with anger. "This isn't just my baby, Marcus. It's yours too. Whether you want to admit it or not, you're going to be a father. And you can't just pretend that doesn't exist."

"I can do whatever I want." He stood, his height intimidating, but I didn't back down. "I don't want this baby. I don't want you. I want this contract to end, and I want you to disappear."

"Then pay me to leave." The words came out before I could stop them. "Pay me to go away, to raise this child on my own, to never contact you again. But you'll have to pay a lot more than half a million dollars."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you want me to disappear, if you want to pretend this baby doesn't exist, then you're going to pay for it." I moved closer, my voice hard. "Five million dollars. And you'll sign away all parental rights. You'll never see this child. You'll never be part of its life. And I'll disappear, just like you want."

"Five million?" He laughed, but it was cold. "You're trying to extort me."

"I'm trying to survive." My voice broke, but I kept going. "Because if I'm going to raise this child alone, if I'm going to be a single mother with no support, then I need enough money to do it right. To give this child everything it deserves. And if you're not going to be a father, then you're going to pay for that privilege."

He stared at me, his expression unreadable. "And if I say no?"

"Then I stay. I keep the contract. I live here, I raise this child here, and you'll have to deal with it. You'll have to see it every day. You'll have to watch it grow up. And you'll have to explain to your family why your fake wife is having your real baby."

The threat hung in the air, and I saw his jaw tighten. His family. That was his weakness. The thing he was trying to protect.

"You wouldn't," he said, but his voice wasn't as confident as before.

"Try me." I moved closer, until we were almost touching. "Because I have nothing left to lose, Marcus. You've already taken everything from me. My dignity, my self-respect, my hope. So if you want to make this worse, if you want to make me your enemy, then go ahead. But I promise you, I'll make your life hell."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I saw something in his eyes—respect, maybe. Or fear. "You've changed."

"I had to." My voice was soft now, tired. "Because you made it clear that no one was going to protect me. No one was going to fight for me. So I had to learn to fight for myself."

He was quiet for a long time, just staring at me, and I could see the war in his eyes. The conflict between what he wanted and what he had to do.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice tight. "We'll renegotiate the contract. But not five million. Two million. And you stay until the baby is born. You'll have the best medical care, the best everything. But after the birth, you're gone. You take the money, you take the child, and you disappear."

"Three million," I said, my voice steady. "And I want it in writing. A legal document that gives me full custody, that releases you from all parental rights and responsibilities. And I want it signed before the baby is born."

"Two and a half million. Final offer."

"Three million. Or I stay, and you deal with the consequences."

He stared at me, and I saw something in his expression—anger, but also something else. Something that looked like... admiration?

"Fine," he said finally. "Three million. But you'll sign a new contract. One that extends until the baby is born, and then you're gone. No contact. No communication. Nothing."

"I'll sign it." I moved to leave, but he caught my arm.

"Olivia." His voice was soft, and I turned to look at him. "Why are you doing this? Why are you keeping it?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to answer. Why was I keeping it? Because it was a part of me? Because I couldn't imagine not keeping it? Because despite everything, I wanted this child?

"Because it's mine," I said finally, my voice soft. "Because no matter how it happened, this baby is a part of me. And I'm not going to let you or anyone else take that away from me."

He was quiet for a long moment, just staring at me, and I saw something in his eyes—something that looked like pain. Or regret.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry I'm not... I'm not the man you need me to be."

The words hit harder than I expected, and I felt my throat tighten. "You could be. If you wanted to."

"But I don't." His voice was hard again, the moment gone. "I can't. I'm not built for this. For family. For... love."

"Then we'll do it your way." I pulled my arm free, my heart breaking. "Three million dollars. Full custody. You sign away your rights. And we both get what we want."

"And what do you want, Olivia?" he asked, his voice soft. "What do you really want?"

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, I saw the man underneath. The man who was trapped, who was scared, who was just as broken as I was.

"I want to be free," I said finally, my voice breaking. "I want to be free of you. Of this contract. Of this... prison. And I want to raise my child in a place where it's loved. Where it's wanted. Where it doesn't have to pretend to be something it's not."

He was quiet for a long moment, and I saw something in his expression—pain, maybe. Or understanding.

"Then that's what you'll get," he said finally, his voice flat. "I'll have my lawyer draw up the new contract. You'll have your freedom. And your child will have a life without me in it."

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak, and turned to leave. But as I reached the door, he spoke again.

"Olivia."

I stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "For everything."

I didn't answer. Just kept walking, my heart breaking, my future clear.

I was going to be a mother. I was going to be free. And I was going to do it alone.

But as I climbed the stairs to my room, I realized something that made my stomach drop:

I didn't want to do it alone.

I wanted him. I wanted us. I wanted a family.

But that was never going to happen.

Because he'd made his choice.

And I'd made mine.

---