Episode Two: Terms and Conditions
893 Words
The storm didn’t let up.
By the time Natasha stepped out of the Shamrock Estate, the snow had thickened, swallowing the road in a cold, endless silence. Her boots crunched against the frozen ground as she headed for the gate, her heart pounding harder than the wind.
Married.
To Joel Shamrock.
“What have you just done?” she whispered.
Her phone buzzed.
Cassidy calling.
She answered immediately. “Cass?”
“Nat… are you okay?” Cassidy’s voice was soft, fragile—but worried. “You sound off.”
Natasha forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just a long day.”
“You didn’t forget what the doctor said, right? We need to—”
“I know,” Natasha cut in gently. “I’m handling it.”
A pause.
“You always say that,” Cassidy murmured.
“And I always mean it,” Natasha replied, her chest tightening.
Another silence.
Then Cassidy asked quietly, “You’re not doing something crazy… are you?”
Natasha glanced back at the estate, its glowing windows watching her.
Too late.
“Trust me,” she said softly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She ended the call before more questions came.
“Lying doesn’t suit you.”
Natasha froze.
Joel’s voice came from behind her—calm, controlled, too close.
She turned sharply. “Do you always sneak up on people?”
“I wasn’t sneaking. You were distracted.”
He stepped closer, unfazed by the cold. “You agreed too quickly.”
Natasha folded her arms. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”
“People like you always do.”
“People like me?” she narrowed her eyes.
“Emotional. Impulsive.”
She let out a dry laugh. “You really haven’t changed, Joel. Still think you can sum me up in two words.”
“And you still think you’re unpredictable.”
Their eyes locked.
Same tension. Same unfinished story.
Joel pulled a sleek folder from his coat. “The contract.”
Natasha didn’t take it immediately. “You came prepared.”
“I don’t make offers I’m not ready to close.”
“Of course you don’t.”
She finally grabbed it, flipping it open. Pages of clauses stared back.
“Three months,” she read. “Public appearances… shared residence—wait, shared residence?”
“You’ll move into the estate.”
“No.”
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“I have a life, Joel.”
“And I have a reputation. A married couple living apart raises questions.”
“I don’t care about your image.”
“I do.”
His tone ended the argument.
“Fine,” she muttered, turning a page. “No romantic involvement…” She glanced up. “That won’t be a problem.”
“It never was.”
The words stung more than they should.
She kept reading.
“Payment upon completion…” Her breath caught slightly.
He wasn’t exaggerating.
It was enough.
Enough to save Cassidy.
“You investigated me,” she said quietly.
“I needed to know what I was offering.”
“And what was I worth?” she snapped.
Joel didn’t flinch. “No. What you needed.”
That shut her up—for a moment.
“What about you?” Natasha asked, closing the folder. “You said no questions, but I’m asking one.”
Joel raised an eyebrow.
“Why me? Really.”
Something flickered in his eyes—gone too fast.
“Because you’re the only one who won’t mistake this for something real.”
Her grip tightened.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
A car pulled up behind them, headlights cutting through the snow.
The driver stepped out, opening the back door.
Joel didn’t look away. “You’ll sign tomorrow.”
“That’s not how this works. I need time.”
“You don’t have time.”
Her chest rose sharply. “You don’t get to rush me.”
“And you don’t get to pretend this isn’t urgent,” he said evenly. “Your sister doesn’t have the luxury of delay.”
Silence.
Heavy. Precise.
He knew exactly where to hit.
“You’re cruel,” Natasha said quietly.
“I’m honest.”
“No,” she shook her head. “You’re strategic.”
A faint smirk touched his lips. “That too.”
She stepped closer, voice low. “Let’s make one thing clear, Joel. This may be your game—but I’m not your pawn.”
“Good,” he replied. “I prefer worthy opponents.”
The driver cleared his throat. “Sir, we should go.”
Joel nodded, then looked back at her.
“Tomorrow. Seven.”
Natasha hesitated.
Then nodded once.
As the car drove away, she stood alone in the snow, the contract clutched tightly in her hand.
Her life had just changed.
And deep down…
She didn’t know what scared her more—
Getting pulled into Joel Shamrock’s world…
Or realizing she never truly left it.
Across the road, hidden by the storm, another car sat quietly.
Engine running.
Lights off.
Inside, a man watched.
Gregory Gustavo.
A slow smile spread across his face as he picked up his phone.
“Looks like the past is catching up,” he murmured.
Then he dialed.
“It’s starting,” he said. “Just like we planned.”
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