Chapter Eight: A Deal Of Convenience
660 Words
****Andrew’s Office—Maria’s POV*****
The next morning, I found myself standing in front of Andrew’s office once again, the echoes of the rain still clinging to the edges of my mind. My clothes were dry now, but the weight of the decision I was about to make hung heavier than ever.
I’d spent the entire night thinking—rethinking—about what accepting his offer would mean. For me. For my future.
I knocked on the door.
His voice called out, as cold and commanding as ever.
“Come in.”
I stepped inside, locking eyes with him. He was seated at his desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood. His usual expression—a mix of control and indifference—didn’t change when he saw me.
“I’ve made my decision,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I’ll do it. I’ll sign the contract.”
Andrew’s gaze flickered, just for a moment. No smile. No visible reaction. Just a curt nod.
“Good,” he replied. “We can finalize the details today. I’ll have the papers drawn up immediately.”
I swallowed hard, trying to push down the nausea curling in my gut. A part of me still hesitated. But the other part—the part that had been kicked down so many times she couldn’t afford another fall—had already made the choice.
****Andrew’s POV****
She was here.
After all the drama, all the push and pull, Maria had finally said yes.
I kept my expression composed and my tone even, but I couldn’t deny the relief that washed through me. This was it. This was what I needed—not just for the deal with Denmark, but for the survival of Walker Industries.
Still, as I looked at her, something inside me tightened. Her eyes held a storm I couldn’t read—determination, yes, but bitterness too. There was no joy in this. No victory dance. Just cold, hard necessity.
This was a business arrangement. Nothing more.
And yet, Maria unsettled me. Always had. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, so fiercely independent despite how cornered she was. Or maybe it was the fact that, even now, she refused to crumble. Her spine was straight. Her jaw set.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said, rising to retrieve the contract from my desk.
She didn’t argue. She just nodded and sat down across from me, her body rigid, like she was preparing for battle. I handed her the contract. Watched her eyes scan it carefully, line by line. No questions. No outbursts.
Just silence.
Then she picked up the pen and signed her name without looking back.
“Done,” she said. Her voice was flat. Detached. Like this was just another transaction.
I stared at the signature for a moment longer than I meant to. It was real now. We were bound—for the next six months. And nothing would ever be the same.
****Maria’s POV****
The moment the pen touched the paper, something inside me cracked.
Mrs. Walker.
The name felt like a costume—something tight and foreign I was being forced to wear. But I’d signed it. There was no going back.
Andrew reached into the drawer and pulled out a platinum wedding band. He held it out to me without ceremony.
“Wear this in public. For appearances.”
I took it. My fingers brushed his briefly. There was nothing personal in the exchange. No warmth. Just cold metal and a colder purpose.
Still… something in the air shifted. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on mine a second too long. Or maybe it was how close we were, just for a breath, and how his presence didn’t feel quite as suffocating as it used to.
But I couldn’t afford to get lost in whatever this was.
This was business.
A deal.
Nothing more.
- Writer
