Private Terms

3. The Man

I finally found the VIP room Jeremy had told me about. The table number matched the one he'd sent me. My phone was still clutched tightly in my hand as I stood several steps away from the door, trying to calm my breathing.

I was late. Only by a few minutes, but I was still late.

I quickly fixed my hair, then checked my reflection on my phone screen. I didn't look too terrible. At least I still looked like a human being and not a woman who had just spent the last thirty minutes running from one disaster to another.

I took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to be embarrassed. I needed money. With whatever courage I could force myself to gather, I pushed open the door. And froze.

A man was sitting alone on one of the sofas inside. He had a tall, well-built frame and was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. One hand held his phone while the other rested casually against the arm of the sofa.

He didn't even look up when I entered. For a second, I wondered if Jeremy had given me the wrong table number. Then the man finally lifted his head.

My courage disappeared instantly. I knew him. Not just because I'd seen his face somewhere before. I knew exactly who he was.

Tristan Lysander.

My heart nearly stopped. No. That couldn't be right. I stood frozen for several seconds until the man placed his phone on the table and looked directly at me.

His expression was cold. There was no welcoming smile. No polite greeting.

Nothing. He looked at me as though he were evaluating something he was considering buying.

"Faleia?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Sit."

Just one word.

I obeyed. Perhaps because I was too nervous to think properly, I sat on the sofa across from him.

I looked at him again. Tristan Lysander, the man whose name had been appearing all over social media lately. Not because of scandals or some ridiculous dating rumor, but because he had become increasingly popular among young people.

He was only thirty-five, yet he already held the position of general manager at one of his family's major television and media companies. I'd seen his interviews online, articles about him. Some of my friends at university had even talked about him.

Apparently, Tristan Lysander was one of the most eligible bachelors among the country's wealthy families.

And now... he was sitting right in front of me. Looking at me as if I were nothing more than a business transaction.

I quickly pushed that thought away. I wasn't here to be his fan. I was here because I needed money.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

"How many minutes?"

I hesitated. "Ten."

"Eleven."

I blinked.

He glanced at his watch. "You were eleven minutes late."

"Oh." That was all I could say. My face burned. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." His voice remained flat. Strangely, that made me even more nervous.

Tristan picked up a black folder that had been sitting on the table.

"Jeremy explained everything?"

I nodded.

"He said I was being offered a job."

"Correct."

I waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. Instead, he opened the folder, pulled out several sheets of paper, and placed them on the table.

I frowned. "What's that?"

"A contract."

A contract?

I stared at the papers. Why did that single word suddenly make my stomach twist? Wasn't this supposed to be a simple job?

Jeremy had only told me that a rich man needed a woman who could accompany him whenever he wanted, in exchange for a large amount of money. He hadn't mentioned an official contract.

"An employment contract?"

"Something like that." His answer only confused me further.

I took a breath. "So... what exactly am I supposed to do?"

Tristan looked at me for several seconds.

"You'll be my contractual partner."

I froze. Partner? I almost laughed out of nervousness. Maybe I'd heard him wrong.

"Partner?"

"Yes."

"Like... a girlfriend?"

"More or less."

I stared at him in disbelief. My mind struggled to connect everything Jeremy had told me with the words coming out of Tristan's mouth.

A woman.

A rich man.

A large payment.

Available whenever he wanted.

And now... a contractual partner?

My hands slowly curled into fists in my lap. I was beginning to understand. "So, I have to pretend to be your girlfriend?"

"Correct."

I exhaled slowly. Oddly enough, relief washed over me. I'd been afraid the job would involve something much worse.

"There will be no physical relationship."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"If that's what you're worried about."

I fell silent. My cheeks burned. Damn it. Apparently, my face was far too easy to read.

Tristan looked back down at the documents. "Everything is stated there. Read it before you sign."

I looked at the contract again. Several sheets of paper. They suddenly felt heavier than the entire bag hanging from my shoulder.

I needed money. That was a fact. I needed enough money to put an end to the disaster I'd created myself. But signing a contract with Tristan Lysander meant officially giving a stranger a certain amount of control over my life. Even if he had just assured me there would be no physical relationship, I still didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I looked at the amount of money written in one section. My eyes widened. That much? For this? I could barely believe it.

The amount was more than enough to pay off all my debts at once. I'd even have enough left to survive for several months.

My hands trembled. I read the number again. Then again. I could end everything.

Today.

I could pay the debt collectors. I could get my life back. I could return to campus without feeling terrified every time my phone rang. I could breathe again. All it would take was one signature.

"Why me?" The question finally slipped from my lips.

Tristan didn't answer immediately. "Because you fit the criteria."

"The criteria?"

"Your age. Your background. Your appearance. And a few other things."

I almost felt offended. But I needed the money too badly to care. "What if I refuse?"

"You're free to leave."

His answer silenced me. He didn't try to persuade me. He didn't offer more money. He didn't threaten me. He didn't pressure me. And somehow, that made the decision feel even more real.

I could leave right now. I could return to my boarding room, open my phone, and face hundreds of threatening messages.

Or... I could stay. I could sign the contract.

I closed my eyes for a moment. I remembered the worn-out mattress in my room. The expensive bags that no longer meant anything. The mountains of debt. The threatening messages. The fear that had kept me awake for weeks.

I had no choice. At least, not one I could honestly call a choice.

I opened my eyes. "If I agree..."

Tristan waited.

"...all my debts can be paid immediately?"

"Yes."

"And there will be no physical relationship?"

"None."

I nodded slowly. My chest still felt tight. I picked up the pen lying on the table. For several seconds, I only stared at it. I knew this might be the craziest decision I'd ever made. But perhaps I'd already gone too far to return to a life where I could afford to make safe choices.

I signed the final page.

My hand trembled as I wrote my full name.

Amara Faleia.

When the ink stopped moving, I placed the pen back on the table.

Done.

I had just signed away a part of my freedom to Tristan Lysander. And strangely enough... for the first time in months, I felt like I could finally breathe.