TERMS AND CONDITIONS
1264 Words
“Marry me.”
Emma nearly dropped her coffee, her hand trembling as she stared at Damian. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me.” Damian didn’t turn from the window, his figure stiff as marble in the reflection. “It’s the only way to control the narrative.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
He didn’t flinch, his voice sharp, calculating. “On the contrary. I’m thinking more clearly than ever.”
“Mr. Cross—”
“Damian.” He finally turned, his eyes locked on hers. “If we’re talking marriage, you might as well use my first name.”
“This isn’t funny,” she snapped.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” His lips twisted into a grin, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Here. The terms are simple.” He pulled a thick booklet from his desk. “One year of marriage. Appear in public. Shared living quarters. Five million dollars. Full immunity from Vanessa’s charges.”
Emma’s pulse quickened. “You expect me to be rational after hearing this?”
His tone hardened. “Tomorrow, the board is meeting. If we don’t give them something else to focus on, Vanessa’s proof will destroy us both.”
“A fake marriage is your solution?”
“A strategic alliance,” he corrected, his voice smooth but firm. “One that benefits us both.”
“How does this benefit me?” she challenged, eyes narrowing.
Damian’s smile turned hungry. “Ask Michael, your brother. His creditors would love to hear from him.”
Emma froze. “What about Michael?”
“His gambling debts. The shady guys he owes money to.” Damian’s voice was cold. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“You’re blackmailing me?” Emma’s breath caught in her throat.
“I prefer to call it a mutually beneficial arrangement.” His gaze held hers, unyielding. “To save your company, I need a wife. To save your brother, you need money. Simple business.”
“This isn’t simple,” she shot back, voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and anger.
“No?” He stepped closer, closing the distance between them with a predatory grace. “Let me simplify it for you. If you don’t sign this, you lose everything. Your reputation, your job, your brother’s life. Everything.”
Emma grabbed the document, her hands trembling. “This is insane.”
“Insanity is the price of control, Miss Carter.” Damian extended a pen, his face a mask of calm authority. “Sometimes, we have to embrace chaos to create order.”
“One year?” she whispered, the gravity of the situation weighing on her.
“Three hundred and sixty-five days of pretending to be madly in love,” he replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Think you can manage that?”
“Can you?” she challenged back, her chin lifting defiantly.
“I’ve been managing appearances my whole life,” he said. The pen tapped the signature line. “Your turn.”
Emma gripped the pen, her mind racing. “And if I say no?”
“Then you lose everything.” His voice softened dangerously. “Consider your brother. Imagine what will happen to him if he can’t pay.”
Her hand shook as she put the pen to paper, the weight of her decision pressing down on her.
“Done,” Damian said, as though the deal was already sealed. His tone softened, almost amused. “There’s no negotiating on the apartment. If we’re selling this, we live together.”
She met his gaze, a challenge burning in her eyes. “All right. But I want a private room in your penthouse.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes,” Emma said slowly, “you tell me the truth about Project Phoenix.”
Damian’s face went cold, and the room temperature seemed to drop. “That’s not part of this deal.”
“It is now,” she replied, not backing down. “No truth, no signature.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“So are you,” she said, her voice low, but determined. “What’s it going to be?”
Just then, his phone chimed. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening.
“Tick-tock, Mr. Cross,” Emma said, her voice steady despite the rising panic inside her. “What’s more valuable? Your business or your secrets?”
Damian clenched his jaw, flicking off the phone screen. He turned back to her, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Weapons were never the main focus of Project Phoenix. It’s about control.”
“Control?” Emma’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” he said, stepping closer. “The kind of control that could bring governments to their knees. Vanessa didn’t just steal blueprints. She took the key to digital warfare. And I let her.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You trusted her?”
“Biggest mistake of my life,” he muttered bitterly.
Emma looked at him, her resolve hardening. “No. This might be my first right decision in years.”
Her fingers hovered over the pen before she finally signed, sealing their deal. “If I find out you’re lying…”
“You won’t survive long enough to do anything about it.” His smile was cold, calculating. “Miss Carter, that’s not a threat. It’s a warning.”
Emma signed the contract.
The next day, the press conference was a media frenzy. Flashbulbs popped in every direction, the air thick with questions. Damian slid an arm around Emma’s waist possessively, his voice smooth as silk.
“Love finds us in unexpected places,” he said, his words rehearsed. “Emma has been my rock through recent difficulties.”
A reporter shouted, “Mr. Cross, what about the rumors regarding Vanessa Thompson?”
Damian tightened his grip on Emma’s waist, his smile never faltering. “Ancient history. The future is what matters now.”
Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, her stomach sinking as she read the message from an unknown number:
My little girl, congratulations on your engagement. Unfortunately, you will not survive to witness the honeymoon. Inquire about Singapore with your new partner. Inquire about the true fate of the last individual to approach Project Phoenix too closely. Even better, inquire about the burial spot he has already purchased under your name. - V
Her fingers went cold, dropping the phone to the table as her mind raced.
“Everything okay?” Damian’s voice cut through the fog.
Emma forced a smile. “Perfect.”
But just as she thought the nightmare might end, her phone buzzed again. She looked at the new message and froze:
Emma, Project Phoenix wasn’t about weaponry. The alteration of DNA was at issue. And you know what? Just now, you offered to be the next test subject. The contract of marriage? It has nanobots all over it. You now have them in your blood. Inquire with Damian about the fates of the previous three “fiancées” who signed it. Sweet dreams, future Mrs. Cross.
Emma’s heart skipped a beat as she glanced into the rearview mirror at Damian, whose image seemed oddly distorted in the reflection.
Her mind screamed in terror, realizing the full extent of the danger she was in. This wasn’t just about Project Phoenix anymore. It was about survival.
- Writer
