THE CONTRACT EXPOSED
1335 Words
The boardroom was ice.
12 men. One long table. And in the middle of it, our marriage printed on 8 pages and stapled.
My stomach dropped.
Damian didn’t let go of my hand.
“Please, sit,” Richard said, gesturing to the two chairs at the end of the table. Like this was a normal meeting. Like my life wasn’t about to be shredded.
We sat.
Liam was with security upstairs. I’d kissed his forehead and lied. “Mommy will be right back.”
“Let’s get to it,” Richard said. He picked up the contract. “Mrs. Blackwood. Ava Miller. Former nurse. Current wife. For a price.”
“Don’t,” Damian said. One word.
Richard ignored him. “Clause 1: Public appearances as husband and wife. Clause 2: Shared residence. Clause 3: No outside relationships. Clause 4: $500,000 medical payment for dependent, Liam Miller. Clause 5: Term of 6 months.”
He looked up, smiling. “Did I miss anything, nephew?”
The room was silent.
I could feel every eye on me. Judging. Calculating.
“This is private,” Damian said.
“Not anymore,” Richard said. “Not when the CEO of Blackwood Corp marries a woman for money. It’s a liability. It’s embarrassing. It’s grounds for removal.”
“Is that all?” Damian asked. Too calm.
“No,” Richard said. “Because there’s more.” He pulled out his phone. “We have texts. From your ex, Mr. Carter. Saying Mrs. Blackwood was still in contact with him. Saying this marriage is a fraud.”
My heart stopped.
Damian turned to me. Slowly. “Ava.”
“I deleted them,” I whispered. “I swear. I didn’t reply.”
“But you didn’t tell me,” Damian said. It wasn’t an accusation. It was worse. It was hurt.
“I was going to—”
“Save it,” Richard cut in. “The board will now vote. All in favor of removing Damian Blackwood as CEO, effective immediately, raise your hand.”
Hands went up. One. Two. Five. Seven.
Seven to five.
I felt the world tilt.
“Motion passed,” Richard said. “Damian, you’re out.”
Damian stood. He didn’t look at Richard. He looked at me.
“Come on,” he said quietly.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Home,” he said. “To pack.”
We walked out. No one stopped us.
In the elevator, I broke.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Tears I’d been holding back spilled. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t—”
“Stop,” Damian said. He pulled me into his arms. “This isn’t your fault. This is mine. I thought I could control it. The board. The contract. You.”
His arms were warm. Solid.
“I don’t have the money anymore,” he murmured into my hair. “The company accounts are frozen. Richard will cut off Liam’s treatment.”
I pulled back. “What? No. We can’t—”
“We will,” Damian said. “I have personal funds. Not much. But enough for 2 months. Maybe 3.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
The elevator doors opened. We walked through the empty lobby. My ring felt heavy on my finger.
In the car, Damian drove in silence. To the penthouse.
We packed. Fast. Clothes. Liam’s medicine. The toy car.
Liam woke up when we came in. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Trip,” Damian said, forcing a smile. “Just you and me and Mommy.”
“Where’s the cars?” Liam asked.
“Bringing them,” I said, lying again.
Damian’s phone buzzed. He looked at it. His face went blank.
“What?” I asked.
“My accounts,” he said. “Frozen too. Richard moved fast.”
“How?”
“He’s my uncle,” Damian said bitterly. “He knows all my passwords.”
Panic clawed at my throat. “The hospital. They need payment by Friday or they stop treatment.”
“I know,” Damian said again.
He looked at me. Then at Liam, watching cartoons on the couch, oblivious.
“Okay,” Damian said. “New plan.”
“What plan?”
“We sell everything,” Damian said. “The penthouse. The cars. My watch. We get cash. We disappear.”
“Damian, that won’t cover—”
“It has to,” he snapped. Then softened. “It has to, Ava. Because I’m not letting him die.”
Liam looked up. “Are you and Mommy fighting?”
“No, kid,” Damian said. He knelt in front of him. “We’re not fighting. We’re just... figuring things out.”
Liam held out the toy car. “You can have this. For money.”
Damian took it. His throat bobbed. “I don’t need the car, Liam. I just need you to be brave, okay?”
“Okay,” Liam said.
My phone buzzed.
`Unknown: Told you. She’s lying. Ask her about Clause 9. The one she didn’t read.`
Clause 9.
I’d signed without reading the last page. I was so desperate.
“Damian,” I said, voice shaking. “There’s something I didn’t tell you.”
He looked up from packing. “What?”
“The contract. There was a Clause 9. I didn’t read it. I was crying and I just signed.”
Damian went still. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Tears again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Damian crossed the room in 2 steps. He took my face in his hands.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey. Look at me. We’ll figure it out. Together.”
His phone rang. Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
“Mr. Blackwood,” a smooth voice said. “This is Mr. Vance’s lawyer. Per Clause 9 of your marital contract, upon termination of employment, all assets transfer to the secondary beneficiary. That would be Mr. Richard Vance.”
The room went cold.
“What?” Damian said.
“That includes the penthouse, vehicles, and liquid assets,” the lawyer continued. “You have 24 hours to vacate.”
The call ended.
Damian stared at the phone.
“Clause 9,” I whispered. “I did this.”
“No,” Damian said. “I did this. I wrote that contract. I put that clause in to protect myself if things went bad.”
He laughed. Bitter. “And now it did.”
He walked to the window. City lights. All his. For 24 more hours.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
Damian turned. His eyes were different. Resolved.
“We fight,” he said. “But not with money. With the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I love you,” Damian said simply. “And that I’m not letting Richard take you. Or Liam. Or anything else.”
My breath caught. “Damian, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said. “The contract said 6 months. I say forever.”
He pulled me to him. Kissed my forehead. Then my cheek. Then my lips.
Soft. Desperate. Real.
When he pulled back, he was smiling. Sad but real.
“Pack one bag,” he said. “We’re leaving tonight. Before Richard’s lawyers come.”
“Where to?”
“Somewhere he can’t find us,” Damian said. “And then we find a way to get Liam’s treatment. Legally. Without them.”
A knock on the door. Loud.
Damian’s security voice: “Sir. Mr. Vance and police are here. They have an eviction notice.”
24 hours became now.
Damian looked at me. At Liam.
“Time to go,” he said.
He grabbed my hand. Grabbed Liam.
And we ran.
*[END OF CHAPTER 6]*
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