Contracted Desires

CHAPTER 4: The Choice

Emma stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of streetlights visible through her thin drapes. On her nightstand, the contract was a smothering presence. She rolled over for the tenth time, pulling the blanket tightly over her as if it might shield her from the impossible choice that was in front of her.

On the cushion next to her, her phone buzzed. She took it, grateful for the diversion, and discovered a message from Nina:

"You are adored, Em. I am grateful for all that you do for me. You are my hero.

Emma felt her chest tighten. After everything they had been through together, she couldn't disappoint Nina. As she recalled their early years, she pictured Nina as a vibrant youngster whose contagious laughter filled their small flat. Emma had been true to her pledge to keep her safe even after their parents died.

Was this marriage contract, however, the answer? Her mind was filled with images of Alexander's face, his icy reasoning, and his unfathomable gray eyes that seemed to pierce right through her.

With a tear streaming down her cheek, she muttered into the night, "What am I doing?"

The sun was staring into her tired eyes as morning broke too soon. Emma poured herself a cup of coffee and dragged herself out of bed, her motions robotic. She gazed at the rising steam in blankness.

On the kitchen table, the contract remained unopened. The words blurred together as she turned the pages of the book she had taken up. A year. It was just that. a year of making appearances in public, abiding by Alexander's regulations, and feigning to be his loyal wife.

This was not what she wanted to do. However, she was troubled by the vision of Nina's hopeful, pallid face in her hospital bed. Since she had no other option due to the crippling debt, Alexander's offer was a lifesaver.

Emma inhaled deeply before grabbing a pen and signing her name on the dotted line. When she felt the weight of her choice, the ink had just begun to dry.

The restaurant exceeded Emma's expectations in terms of luxury. She felt completely out of place in the private dining area, which was subtly elegant and softly lighted by crystal chandeliers. A server escorted her to the table where Alexander sat, poised, and she fixed her modest dress, trying not to flinch.

She became dubious as he rose up and drew out her chair with such practiced ease. "Emma," he said with ease, his voice courteous but aloof. "I trust you’ve made your decision."

Her fists were gripped in her lap as she sat down. Across the table, she slid the document and said, "I’ve signed it."

Alexander's lips curled into a little smile. "All right. You won't be sorry.

A server showed up and filled their cups with wine. Emma's anxieties prevented her from eating or drinking, and she hardly touched hers.

Alexander studied her carefully, leaning back in his chair. "Shall we review the terms?"

Placing the contract on the table, he delicately tapped the edge with his fingers. "The marriage will last exactly one year," he said in a cool, collected tone. You'll perform all of the public responsibilities required of a wife at that time, including going to events, interacting with the media, and keeping up the illusion of a happy marriage."

Emma gave a rigid nod, her mind racing.

"You’ll live in my penthouse," he added in a firm voice. "You will have your solitude, but for appearances, we will share a bedroom. Personal space will be respected.

Emma's cheeks flushed at the innuendo, but she said nothing.

Alexander leaned a little forward. "In return, I’ll cover all of Nina’s medical expenses and provide you with a settlement at the end of the year."

"Why me?" Before Emma could stop it, the question escaped her lips.

Alexander paused, his face unintelligible. "Because you are unique. In my world, most people have baggage. You don't. Additionally, I have faith that you will keep this arrangement private.

Emma wanted to push him, to find out what he really meant, but she was stopped by the weight of his words.

Emma felt like she had just sold her soul as they walked out of the restaurant. Alexander strolled next to her in a casual manner, as though the evening had gone perfectly.

To wait for their cars, they stopped at the valet. Emma looked at him, trying to find any weakness in his calm facade, but his face seemed unbreakable.

He said sternly, "I'll have my assistant arrange your move." "Expect a call tomorrow."

His phone chimed before she could answer. He moved aside and spoke softly, yet his words could be heard clearly in the calm night air.

"She’s agreed," he concluded. "Everything is falling into place."

Emma felt a knot in her stomach. He spoke in a cool, calculated, almost victorious tone. To whom was he talking? What did "falling into place" mean to him?

Emma mustered a feeble grin when Alexander hung up and turned back to her, his face once again neutral. Unanswered questions, however, raced through her mind.

What was it she had just gotten into?