The Billionaire’s Reluctant Bride

Terms and Conditions

The next morning, Ava woke up hoping it had all been a dream.

It wasn’t.

At exactly nine a.m., a sleek black car pulled up outside Bennett’s Books.

She watched through the window as a tall woman in a fitted gray suit stepped out, carrying a leather folder.

“Miss Bennett?” the woman asked as she entered.

“Yes.”

“I’m Clara Whitmore. Mr. Blackwood’s legal counsel.”

Of course he sent a lawyer.

Ava locked the shop door behind her and led Clara to the small reading table near the window.

“I assume this is about the… arrangement.”

Clara gave a professional nod. “Mr. Blackwood prefers clarity in all agreements.”

She opened the folder.

Inside was a marriage contract.

Thirty-seven pages long.

Ava swallowed.

“This is insane,” she muttered.

Clara slid a pen toward her. “You are free to decline.”

That word again.

Free.

As if she had options.

Ava began reading.

Clause 1: Duration — One calendar year.

Clause 2: Public Appearances — Minimum attendance at all Blackwood corporate events.

Clause 3: Residency — Wife shall reside at primary penthouse.

Clause 4: Conduct — No scandals. No romantic involvement outside marriage.

Clause 5: Emotional Clause — Both parties acknowledge marriage is contractual.

Her eyes paused.

“What is this?” Ava asked quietly.

Clara adjusted her glasses.

“Mr. Blackwood insists on emotional boundaries.”

“Emotional boundaries?”

“Falling in love complicates contracts.”

Ava let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

“He really thinks love is some legal liability?”

Clara didn’t smile.

“He thinks it is inefficient.”

The door opened behind them.

Ava didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

The air changed.

Adrian Blackwood stepped inside.

Dark suit. Controlled expression. Total authority.

“Leave us,” he told Clara.

Without hesitation, she stood and exited.

Now it was just the two of them.

“You sent a lawyer,” Ava said.

“I send lawyers for everything.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

He moved closer to the table, scanning the contract.

“You have questions.”

“Several.”

“Ask.”

She stood up, meeting his gaze head-on.

“What happens if I want to leave early?”

“You won’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“If you breach the agreement, the debt returns. With interest.”

Her heart clenched.

“So I’m trapped.”

“You’re protected.”