CHAPTER SIX: The Agreement
1250 Words
Aria POV
I should have said no.
Even now, sitting across from Damian De Luca inside the top-floor conference room of De Luca Holdings, I knew that.
The smart thing would have been to walk away.
The safe thing would have been to run.
Instead, I was staring at a marriage contract.
A very real marriage contract.
The morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking London’s skyline. Canary Wharf stretched beyond the glass, all steel and power and money.
It suited Damian perfectly.
Everything about this place screamed control.
Just like him.
My fingers tightened around the warm mug of coffee someone had placed in front of me earlier.
I hadn’t touched it.
I was too busy trying to process how my life had completely derailed in less than twenty-four hours.
Across from me, Damian sat at the head of the long conference table.
Black suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
His dark hair looked slightly messy, as though he had been working all night.
Or maybe he hadn’t slept either.
Unlike me, however, he looked completely composed.
Nothing about him suggested exhaustion.
Nothing about him suggested uncertainty.
Damian looked exactly like a man negotiating a business acquisition.
Not a marriage.
The realization irritated me.
“Do you always look this relaxed when you’re proposing to someone?” I asked.
One dark eyebrow lifted.
“Do you always sign legal documents without reading them?”
I rolled my eyes.
“There it is.”
“There what is?”
“The personality everyone keeps warning me about.”
A faint smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
The expression was gone almost immediately.
Still, it caught me off guard.
Damian rarely smiled.
When he did, it felt dangerous.
“I wasn’t aware people discussed my personality.”
“They discuss your lack of one.”
Another brief flicker of amusement.
“Interesting.”
I hated that he seemed entertained.
Especially when I felt like I was having an existential crisis.
The lawyer seated several chairs away suddenly cleared his throat.
Poor man.
He looked terrified.
Probably because Damian intimidated everyone.
“Mrs. Moretti”
“Soon-to-be ex-Mrs. De Luca,” I corrected automatically.
The words hurt more than I expected.
A strange silence settled over the room.
My eyes dropped to the table.
God.
I really was getting divorced.
Three years.
Gone.
Just like that.
The lawyer slid several papers toward me.
“The agreement outlines the terms of the proposed marriage arrangement.”
Proposed marriage arrangement.
Even hearing it aloud sounded ridiculous.
I glanced down.
The contract was absurdly detailed.
Duration.
Living arrangements.
Public appearances.
Financial protections.
Privacy clauses.
Media management.
Everything.
Trust Damian to turn marriage into a strategic operation.
I flipped another page.
Then another.
My eyes widened.
“This is insane.”
The lawyer visibly tensed.
Damian remained calm.
“What part?”
I looked up sharply.
“What part? All of it.”
He leaned back slightly.
“Be specific.”
I pointed at the page.
“Private security?”
“Necessary.”
“A personal driver?”
“Necessary.”
“A media management team?”
“Definitely necessary.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve planned this.”
His gaze held mine.
“Yes.”
Something about that answer sent a strange chill through me.
Because he wasn’t denying it.
He wasn’t pretending this proposal had been spontaneous.
Somehow that realization felt important.
Dangerously important.
“How long?” I asked quietly.
The lawyer looked confused.
Damian didn’t.
He knew exactly what I was asking.
“How long what?”
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
For the first time since arriving, Damian went completely still.
Not visibly.
Most people wouldn’t notice.
I did.
Because I had spent years watching him from a distance.
Watching him observe everyone.
Watching him hide everything.
His eyes locked onto mine.
The tension between us sharpened instantly.
Then
“Long enough.”
My pulse stumbled.
Long enough.
What did that even mean?
Before I could push further, the conference room door suddenly opened.
A woman hurried inside.
She stopped immediately upon seeing me.
Then Damian.
Then the contract.
The awkward silence that followed was painful.
“Mr. De Luca, the board meeting begins in twenty minutes.”
Damian didn’t look away from me.
“Reschedule.”
The woman blinked.
“Sir?”
“Reschedule.”
She looked genuinely shocked.
Interesting.
Apparently Damian never rescheduled meetings.
The woman disappeared moments later.
I stared at him.
“You cancelled a board meeting?”
“It wasn’t important.”
A billionaire CEO saying that felt unbelievable.
“That seems unlikely.”
His gaze remained steady.
“I’m exactly where I need to be.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
I immediately looked back down at the contract.
Coward.
My heart had been acting strangely ever since last night.
Too aware.
Too responsive.
Too vulnerable.
I needed distance.
Not more confusion.
Not more dangerous chemistry.
Especially not with Damian.
The man practically radiated trouble.
I turned another page.
Then froze.
There it was.
The clause.
The one thing I hadn’t expected.
“If either party develops genuine feelings…”
My voice trailed off.
Damian’s expression became unreadable.
I continued reading.
“…the contract terms become subject to renegotiation.”
Slowly, I looked up.
“What is this?”
The lawyer suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.
Coward.
Damian remained completely calm.
“A precaution.”
I stared.
“A precaution against what?”
His grey eyes darkened slightly.
“Complications.”
The room became very quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
Because suddenly neither of us was talking about contracts anymore.
We were talking about something else.
Something neither of us wanted to name.
My pulse quickened.
His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth.
Then returned to my eyes.
The movement lasted less than a second.
It still stole my breath.
I looked away first.
Again.
Because lately that seemed to be all I did around Damian.
Retreat.
Retreat.
Retreat.
And yet somehow, he kept finding ways to pull me back.
“I need time.”
My voice sounded softer than intended.
Damian nodded once.
To my surprise, he didn’t argue.
Didn’t pressure me.
Didn’t push.
“Take the day.”
I blinked.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Suspicion immediately surfaced.
“What are you planning?”
A faint smile appeared.
Dangerous.
Beautiful.
Infuriating.
“You assume I’m planning something.”
“I assume you’re always planning something.”
That smile deepened slightly.
For one terrifying moment, he almost looked human.
Then the mask returned.
Cold.
Controlled.
Powerful.
Damian stood.
The meeting was clearly over.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, disappointment curled unexpectedly inside my chest.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
As I gathered my things, Damian moved toward the window overlooking London.
The city stretched endlessly beneath him.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
Just like the man himself.
Then he spoke without turning around.
“One more thing.”
I paused.
“What?”
His reflection met mine in the glass.
And suddenly the room felt too small again.
“If you decide to say yes…”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“…don’t do it because you’re desperate.”
Silence.
Then finally
“Do it because you believe I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
My breath caught.
And for the first time since meeting Damian De Luca…
I wasn’t afraid of the contract.
I was afraid of how badly I wanted to believe him.
- Writer
