Chapter Six: The Contract
831 Words
The morning light streamed through the bakery windows as Claire kneaded the dough, her hands trembling slightly. The familiar scent of flour and yeast usually calmed her, but today, her nerves were a storm she couldn’t silence.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Unknown number.
She hesitated before answering.
“Hello?”
“Miss Williams?” a smooth female voice said. “This is Lydia, Mr. Blake’s assistant. He asked me to inform you that the contract is ready for review. Can you come to Blake Enterprises at noon?”
Claire froze, her throat dry.
“Uh… yes. Noon. I’ll be there.”
“Perfect,” Lydia said crisply. “Ask for me when you arrive.”
The call ended before Claire could change her mind.
By eleven thirty, she stood in front of the tall, gleaming glass tower of Blake Enterprises.
It looked like another world — sleek, intimidating, untouchably perfect.
She smoothed down her simple dress, clutching her worn handbag tightly. Her reflection in the glass doors almost made her turn around. What am I doing here?
“Miss Williams?”
A woman with sharp eyes and an impeccable gray suit smiled politely. “I’m Lydia. Please, follow me.”
Claire followed her through the grand lobby — marble floors, polished metal, walls lined with framed business awards. Everything screamed wealth and precision.
When the elevator doors opened to the top floor, Lydia led her into a minimalist office that overlooked the entire city.
And there he was.
Austin Blake.
Dressed in a dark suit, his tie loose, his gaze calm but sharp as ever. He looked up from his desk when she entered, and that faint, knowing smirk appeared again.
“I see you came,” he said simply.
Claire crossed her arms. “You didn’t really give me a choice, did you?”
“Everyone has a choice,” he said. “Some just come with better outcomes.”
She hated how composed he was. Like this was just another business deal to him.
Lydia set a folder on the table between them. “Here’s the agreement, Miss Williams. Please read carefully before signing.”
Claire sat down, her palms clammy. She flipped through the neatly printed pages — page after page of clauses, conditions, and fine print.
Her heart sank.
Six months of marriage.
Confidentiality required.
No romantic involvement beyond public appearance.
Monthly allowance: $10,000.
Business assistance: full funding for Williams Bakery.
Her eyes widened at that last line.
He really meant it.
Austin’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I assume Lydia has explained that this will remain strictly professional.”
Claire met his gaze. “Professional? You’re asking me to pretend to be your wife.”
“I’m asking you to act like my wife,” he corrected coolly. “It’s an arrangement. My family wants me married. You need help. It’s mutually beneficial.”
She leaned back, exhaling slowly. “And when your family finds out it’s fake?”
“They won’t,” he said flatly. “You’ll move into my residence next week. My staff will handle the details.”
Claire blinked. “Move in?!”
“It would be suspicious otherwise.”
Her stomach flipped. “You’re unbelievable.”
He smiled faintly. “You’ve said that before.”
—For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the sound of the clock ticking filled the silence.
Finally, Claire picked up the pen.
Her hand hovered over the signature line.
“If I do this,” she said quietly, “I want one more condition.”
Austin raised a brow. “Which is?”
“No intimacy,” she said firmly. “No pretending behind closed doors. This is strictly business.”
Something flickered in his eyes — amusement, maybe curiosity.
“Agreed,” he said. “You have my word.”
She hesitated, then signed.
Her name — Claire Williams — looked strangely small beneath his bold signature.
Lydia collected the papers with a faint smile. “Congratulations, Mrs. Blake.”
Claire froze.
Austin smirked. “Get used to hearing that.”
After the meeting, he offered to drop her off, but she refused.
She needed air — space to think, to breathe.
Walking out of the building, she clutched her bag close, the world around her spinning slightly.
What have I just done?
She looked up at the skyscraper one last time before walking away, whispering to herself,
“Six months, Claire. Just six months.”
Meanwhile, in his office, Austin stood by the window, watching her leave.
Lydia approached quietly. “She seems… different from the others.”
“She is,” he said.
“Do you think she’ll handle it?”
Austin’s lips curved into a half-smile. “She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already deeper than she thinks.”
He turned back to the city below, his reflection in the glass as sharp as his resolve.
“This time,” he murmured, “I’ll make it work.”
- Writer
