Cynthia POV
Bradley, Sinacore's agent, sat across from me, placing a stack of papers on the table. “I've drafted an agreement that covers everything we discussed," he said, sliding the document closer. His voice was calm and professional, but I could sense the urgency behind his words. This arrangement was crucial for Sinacore, and by extension, for Bradley as well.
I glanced at Sinacore, who was seated beside me, his expression unreadable. His emerald eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, I wondered what he was thinking. Did he want this? Did I?
My heart felt heavy as I opened the folder and began to scan the contents.
The agreement was comprehensive. Bradley had thought of everything: where I would live, how our public appearances would be managed, and even a clause about compensa
