The Fake Contract Bride

Chapter Four

Adrian's Pov

Control. It was the only language I knew, the only currency I valued.

That night at Leontine’s, staring at Elena Marquez across the table, I realized she was the one person who didn’t seem to recognize it or maybe she did, and simply refused to care.

Her eyes burned at me, sharp, while her fingers traced the edges of the contract I’d slid toward her. Most people trembled when I put papers in front of them. She looked like she wanted to set them on fire.

“You’re out of your mind,” she said flatly, though her voice was softer now, the anger curling beneath the surface instead of exploding out loud.

“I’m practical,” I corrected. “This isn’t about love or loyalty. It’s business. You understand business better than most.”

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “Business? Marriage is not business, Kael.”

“Everything is business,” I said, my voice calm. “Even marriage. Especially marriage in my world.”

Her laugh was sharp, disbelieving. “Do you even hear yourself?”

I did and I didn’t care.

The board was breathing down my neck. Investors were circling, hungry for weakness. Every rumor about instability in my personal life bled into the company’s reputation. I needed an anchor, someone to play the role, someone untouchable.

Elena Marquez was untouchable.

She had made a public fool of me in that meeting earlier this week, and strangely, instead of resenting it, the board had admired it. They thought our animosity made us believable. Opposites forced together. Passion mistaken for partnership.

They weren’t entirely wrong.

“Look at the terms,” I said, my tone even. “You’ll see they’re more than fair. Duration: one year. Discretion guaranteed. Compensation, substantial.”

Her eyes flicked down at the document, scanning, though she tried to hide it. Her jaw tightened.

“You think you can buy me,” she said.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I think I can bargain with you.”

Her gaze snapped to mine.

“Your firm is still small,” I continued smoothly. “But you’re ambitious. You want your name to rise above the wreckage your father left behind. With me, you’ll have access to clients, resources, protection. No one will dare question you again.”

I saw the flicker in her expression, the way her lips pressed together like she was holding something back. I’d hit the nerve I’d aimed for.

“I don’t need your protection,” she said finally, low and steady.

“Don’t you?” I tilted my head. “The attack on your family’s legacy isn’t over. You know that, don’t you? Someone is still moving against you. That was obvious when your firm nearly lost the Kramer account last month.”

Her eyes widened, just slightly. She hadn’t expected me to know that.

I always knew. Information was my sharpest blade.

“You’ve been watching me,” she said quietly.

I didn’t deny it.

Silence stretched between us again, thick enough to choke on.

Finally, she pushed the contract back toward me. “Even if I agreed, it would be hell. You and me,btrapped in the same space, pretending, fighting. We’d kill each other before the year is up.”

“Maybe,” I allowed. “But we’d both win.”

Her lips parted, ready to argue, but no sound came out. For the first time that evening, she looked… conflicted.

That was my chance. I leaned forward, lowering my voice.

“You hate me, Elena. I know that. But hate is better than indifference. Hate means fire. Fire we can use. Fire they’ll believe.”

Her breath hitched.

For a fleeting second, I almost said something else. Something rawer, something closer to the truth I didn’t dare touch: that I didn’t want just her cooperation. I wanted her defiance. I wanted the way she looked at me like I was both the devil and the man who might save her.

But I bit it back. Desire was weakness. This was business.

The waiter returned, awkwardly setting down untouched plates between us. Neither of us moved.

“Eat,” I ordered softly, almost as a distraction.

She glared at me. “You don’t get to order me around.”

And yet, after a long pause, she picked up her fork.

Later, as I drove back to the tower, her face wouldn’t leave my mind. The sharp tongue, the stubborn chin, the way her eyes had flickered when I mentioned her father’s company.

Victor Kael had destroyed the Marquez legacy. My father had crushed her father without a second thought and now, years later, I was offering his daughter a lifeline she hated to need.

Would she take it?

Or would she rather burn with pride than rise with me?

******************

The next morning, the board gathered in the glass conference room. The city glittered beyond the windows, but all eyes were on me.

“Have you spoken to her?” asked Bennett, the oldest member, his tone sharp.

“I have,” I replied evenly.

“And?”

“She’s considering it.”

A ripple of surprise ran through the room. Some looked satisfied. Others skeptical.

“Gentlemen,” I continued, “this merger will be secured. Stability will be demonstrated. Trust me when I say Elena Marquez is the right choice.”

Bennett frowned. “If she refuses……”

“She won’t,” I said firmly, though even as I said it, doubt twisted in my chest.

That evening, I found myself waiting in my office, the contract still on my desk. I’d sent her a message: one final chance to discuss terms.

When the door finally opened, she walked in with fire in her eyes, her heels clicking against the marble floor like gunshots.

“Elena,” I greeted, standing.

She didn’t waste time. She strode straight to the desk, placed her palms flat on the contract, and leaned forward until we were nearly eye to eye.

“You really think I’d sell myself to you?” she asked, voice low and dangerous.

I studied her, calm as ever, though my pulse betrayed me. “I think you’ll make the only choice you can.”

Her eyes blazed, but there was fear beneath it. Not of me, never of me, but of everything pressing down on her. Family, legacy. Enemies neither of us had yet named.

Finally, she inhaled, sharp and steady, as though bracing herself and then, through gritted teeth, she spoke the words that sealed both our fates.

“Fine, Kael. I’ll marry you.”