Almost Strangers

Chapter Four

Sealed With a Signature

Vera’s POV

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the contract sitting on Aries’s desk and heard his calm voice asking me to become his wife. It was the kind of offer that sounded ridiculous the moment you heard it, yet the more I turned it over, the harder it became to dismiss. I’d spent years worrying about money and bills and responsibilities that grew faster than I could keep up with them, and now someone was offering me enough to finally breathe even if the price was becoming the wife of the man who’d spent the last fifteen years pretending he’d never known me.

By morning, I’d made my decision.

I arrived at Morgan Technologies earlier than usual, carrying the same handbag from the day before, but there was a heaviness in my chest that had nothing to do with work. I went straight to my desk and tried to focus on the emails waiting for me, though I kept catching myself glancing toward his office. He hadn’t called for me yet, and I couldn’t decide whether the silence was a relief or a sign he’d changed his mind.

My phone buzzed against the desk. A message from him. “Come to my office.”

I took a breath and stood.

When I walked in, Aries was already seated behind his desk with the contract waiting in front of him, completely composed, as though asking his employee to marry him was an ordinary business decision rather than something that had kept me up half the night.

“You’ve made your decision?” he asked calmly, his tone unreadable.

I pulled out the chair and sat. “Yes.” I answered quietly.

“And?” His voice was patient but expectant.

“I’ll do it.” I said, my voice steady despite the nervousness twisting in my stomach.

Something in his eyes shifted, though his expression stayed carefully controlled. “Good.” His tone was simple and satisfied.

I nearly laughed at how easily he said it. “You could at least pretend to be surprised.” I said lightly, a hint of disbelief in my voice.

“I expected you to accept.” He replied with quiet confidence.

“That confidence of yours is going to get old fast.” I warned, trying to hide my discomfort behind a teasing tone.

A faint curve touched the corner of his mouth before disappearing. “You’ll get used to it.” His tone was mildly amused.

I reached for the contract and read through every page slowly. It was detailed enough to make the whole situation feel painfully real the one year marriage, the payment, the separate bedrooms, my right to keep working, the terms of our eventual divorce.

I tapped one paragraph. “This says neither of us can interfere with the other’s personal life.” I said cautiously.

“Yes.” He answered simply.

“So if you have somewhere to go, I don’t ask questions, and if I want to see my friends, you don’t interfere.” I clarified, watching him carefully.

“Correct.” His tone remained calm.

I turned to the next page. “And there won’t be any pretending when we’re alone?” I asked warily.

His eyes met mine. “Especially when we’re alone.” His voice was low and deliberate.

I wasn’t sure why that answer made me uncomfortable, but I looked back down at the contract instead of dwelling on it. “Fine.” I murmured, trying to sound indifferent.

He slid a pen toward me.

I held it for a moment, staring at the space where my signature belonged. Signing that paper meant accepting a marriage that looked nothing like the one I’d once imagined for myself no romance, no promise of forever, no certainty that the man across from me wanted me there for any reason beyond whatever purpose I served in his plans. Still, I signed.

He took the contract the moment I finished and added his own signature without hesitation, and just like that, the agreement became real.

I set the pen down and leaned back. “When is the wedding?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Tomorrow.” He replied without hesitation.

My head snapped up. “Tomorrow?” I repeated, disbelief evident in my voice.

“The arrangements have already been made.” His tone was composed, as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.

“You arranged an entire wedding before knowing whether I’d agree?” I asked incredulously.

“I prepared for both possibilities.” He replied calmly.

“You really don’t leave anything to chance, do you?” I asked, half annoyed and half amused.

“Not when it concerns my company.” His tone was firm and businesslike.

There it was again, the company, always the company, exactly the reason I told myself this marriage was happening in the first place, even as some small, stubborn part of me wondered if there was another reason underneath it.

Before I could ask, he stood and walked to the window. “You’ll move into my house tonight.” His voice was calm but authoritative.

“Tonight?” I asked, startled.

“The wedding is tomorrow. It makes more sense for you to stay there.” He explained matter of factly.

“I have an apartment.” I reminded him, my tone slightly defensive.

“You won’t need it.” His reply was blunt and certain.

“I know, but I still have things there.” I insisted.

“Victor will arrange for someone to collect them.” He said dismissively, as though the matter were already settled.

I crossed my arms. “I can pack my own belongings.” I said firmly.

He turned to face me, and for a second something almost familiar crossed his expression. “You always hated people touching your things.” His tone was absentminded, almost instinctive.

I froze. He seemed to catch himself a beat too late, his expression shifting almost as fast as the words had left his mouth.

“How did you know that?” I asked suspiciously, my voice suddenly quieter.

He paused. “Lucky guess.” His tone was controlled, almost too quick.

I studied him, but he’d already looked away, and I knew with absolute certainty that it hadn’t been a guess at all. He remembered. Instead of pushing the point, I picked up my handbag and stood. “I’ll move in tonight.” I said quietly, my suspicion still lingering.

He nodded, but as I reached the door, his voice stopped me. “Vera.” His voice was low and serious.

I turned around.

“Tomorrow, in front of everyone, we’re husband and wife. But once we’re inside that house, we follow the contract.” His tone was firm, controlled, and unmistakably authoritative.

“I haven’t forgotten.” I said, giving him a small nod, my voice calm but guarded. What I wanted to say was that I hadn’t forgotten anything about him either.

By evening I stood outside his house with two suitcases beside me, wondering how my life had managed to change so fast. The house was enormous, elegant, and far more luxurious than anywhere I’d ever lived, and the moment I stepped inside I felt like I’d walked into a world that didn’t belong to me. I reminded myself I wasn’t there as a guest. I was going to be his wife for one year, at least.

Victor met me in the hallway with a polite smile. “Welcome, Ms. Collins.” His tone was courteous and professional.

“Please, call me Vera.” I replied politely.

“Of course, Vera. Mr. Morgan asked me to show you to your room.” His tone remained warm and respectful.

I followed him upstairs while Aries stayed behind, talking to one of the staff. Victor stopped at a large bedroom near the end of the hall and opened the door. “This will be your room.” He said pleasantly.

I stepped in and looked around. Everything had already been prepared ,the bed made, the wardrobe large enough to hold everything I owned several times over and somehow the room felt more comfortable than I’d expected, even though my things had barely arrived.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Victor nodded and turned to go, but I stopped him. “Victor?” I called hesitantly.

He looked back.

“How long have you worked for Aries?” I asked curiously.

“For many years.” He replied simply.

I hesitated. “Was he always like this?” I asked cautiously.

A small smile crossed his face. “Like what?” His tone was lightly amused.

“Serious. Difficult. Always acting like he has everything under control.” I said, sounding slightly exasperated.

Victor considered that for a moment. “He wasn’t always that way.” His tone turned thoughtful.

Before I could ask what had changed him, he gave a respectful nod and left the room, and I stood there turning his words over.

He wasn’t always that way. I already knew that better than anyone I’d known a different Aries, a boy who laughed easily, argued with me over the most ridiculous things, and once believed a silver bracelet could keep a friendship from disappearing. I touched it now, beneath my sleeve, without meaning to.