The Marriage Clause

〘⚪Chapter Four⚫〙

Daria's POV

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the same sentence.

I need a wife.

Who says that to a stranger?

Apparently, Roman Blackwell.

I rolled over and stared at the clock.

6:18 a.m.

I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head.

This was stupid.

I didn't know him.

For all I knew, he could be completely insane.

Actually, he probably was.

Normal people didn't offer marriage contracts to women they'd met in a café.

My phone rang.

I reached for it without looking.

“Hello?”

“Good morning.”

I opened my eyes.

My mother's voice.

“Morning, Mom.”

“You sound tired.”

“I didn't sleep much.”

“Because of the wedding?”

I stared at the ceiling.

“Among other things.”

There was a small silence.

“Come home today.”

“I will.”

“Your father wants to talk to you.”

I sighed.

“Of course he does.”

“Daria.”

“I know. I'll be there.”

We talked for a few more minutes before I ended the call.

I sat up.

Roman.

I hated that his name had immediately become part of my morning.

I picked up my phone and searched for him.

The results appeared almost instantly.

ROMAN BLACKWELL, 30, CHAIRMAN OF BLACKWELL GROUP.

There were interviews.

Photos.

Articles.

Business magazines.

And, unfortunately, several articles about his dating life.

I clicked one.

WORLD'S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR STILL SINGLE.

I laughed.

“Not for long, apparently.”

I kept scrolling.

He had been linked to actresses, models, businesswomen, even a princess at some point.

Most of the rumors had been denied.

I locked my phone.

There was no way I was actually considering this.

Except...

I was.

And that annoyed me.

---

By ten, I was at my office.

I had three meetings.

I cancelled two.

My assistant stared at me.

“You're cancelling meetings now?”

“I have things to do.”

“You always have things to do.”

“I have more important things today.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Should I be worried?”

“No.”

“That's what people say before something happens.”

I looked at her.

“Why are you suddenly so dramatic?”

“Working for you has affected me.”

I laughed.

She smiled and walked away.

I sat at my desk.

My company was usually the one place where my mind worked perfectly.

Today?

Nothing.

I opened a report.

Read the same paragraph three times.

Closed it.

Opened another.

Closed that too.

Finally, I picked up my phone.

I stared at Roman's name on the search page.

I didn't have his number.

I wasn't sure if I should even contact him.

Then an email appeared in my inbox.

I frowned.

From: Roman Blackwell

I opened it.

There was one sentence.

If you're interested, my assistant will contact yours.

I stared at the screen.

No greeting.

No explanation.

No pressure.

Just that.

I laughed under my breath.

“Unbelievable.”

A minute later, my assistant walked in.

“Daria?”

“Yeah?”

“There's someone from Blackwell Group on line two.”

I looked at her.

She looked back at me.

“You're kidding.”

“No.”

I picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

A man's voice answered.

“Good morning, Miss Vale. I'm Roman Blackwell's chief of staff.”

Of course he had a chief of staff.

“I assume this is about yesterday.”

“Yes.”

I leaned back.

“What exactly is Roman proposing?”

There was a pause.

“A marriage contract.”

I closed my eyes.

Actually hearing it out loud made it sound even crazier.

“And how long?”

“One year.”

I opened my eyes.

“One year?”

“Yes.”

“What happens after that?”

“The marriage is dissolved.”

I thought about it.

One year.

One year away from my fiancé.

One year without my father deciding my future.

One year where I could breathe.

“What are his conditions?”

“We would prefer to discuss those in person.”

I looked out through the glass walls of my office.

“Fine.”

“When are you available?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Mr. Blackwell will be there.”

I paused.

“Of course he will.”

The call ended.

I stared at the phone.

My assistant was still standing there.

She looked curious.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're smiling.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

I shook my head.

“I think I just found a way out of my wedding.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?”

I smiled.

“Cancel my afternoon.”

“Daria…”

“I have a meeting.”

“With who?”

I grabbed my bag.

“Roman Blackwell.”

She nearly dropped the tablet in her hands.

I walked past her.

“Don't look so shocked.”

“You're meeting Roman Blackwell?”

“Yes.”

“For business?”

I stopped.

Technically...

“Something like that.”

She stared at me.

I smiled innocently.

“Wish me luck.”

Then I walked out before she could ask another question.

I walked out of my office before my assistant could ask another question.

I could already imagine the questions.

Why Roman Blackwell?

Why are you meeting him?

What exactly did you mean by “a way out”?

Honestly, I didn't even have answers for myself.

I reached the elevator and pressed the button.

My phone buzzed again.

I looked at the screen.

Mother.

I answered.

“Hi.”

“Are you at work?”

“Yes.”

“You sound distracted.”

“I am.”

She laughed softly.

“You've always been terrible at hiding things from me.”

I leaned against the elevator wall.

“Maybe I'm just tired.”

“Maybe.”

I could hear her breathing softly through the phone.

Then she asked the question I'd been avoiding.

“Are you still going to marry him?”

I closed my eyes.

“I don't know.”

Silence.

“Daria…”

“I know what you're going to say.”

“I haven't said anything.”

“You don't have to.”

Her voice softened.

“I only want you to be happy.”

That hurt more than anything my father had said.

Because I knew what she wanted.

She wanted to see me married.

She wanted to know that someone would be there for me when she wasn't.

And I couldn't even blame her for that.

“I'll come see you tonight,” I said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside.

“And Daria?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't make a decision just because you're afraid of disappointing me.”

I didn't answer immediately.

“I'll see you tonight, Mom.”

“Alright.”

The call ended.

I stared at my reflection in the elevator doors.

For once, I didn't know what I wanted.

I only knew what I didn't want.

And that was somehow enough to keep me moving.

I spent the rest of the morning pretending I was working.

I wasn't.

I had a presentation open on my laptop, but I had been staring at the same slide for ten minutes.

My assistant walked in with a folder.

“You have a meeting at two.”

“Cancel it.”

She placed the folder on my desk.

“You already cancelled two.”

“I know.”

“Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Heartbroken?”

I looked up.

“What?”

She shrugged.

“You've cancelled three meetings in one day. That's either illness or a man.”

I stared at her.

She smiled.

“I'll take that as neither.”

“Good.”

She turned to leave.

“Wait.”

She looked back.

“Do you know anything about Roman Blackwell?”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Roman Blackwell?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

She thought for a moment.

“Everyone knows who he is.”

“That wasn't my question.”

She sighed.

“Fine. He's thirty. Chairman of Blackwell Group. Doesn't give many interviews. Doesn't attend unnecessary events. Apparently hates being photographed.”

I smiled slightly.

“That sounds familiar.”

She ignored that.

“He's also ridiculously private. No scandals. No public relationships. At least, nothing confirmed.”

“Anything else?”

“He's apparently terrifying in meetings.”

I frowned.

“Terrifying?”

“That's what people say.”

I leaned back.

“He didn't seem terrifying.”

She looked at me.

“You've met him?”

I froze.

“Not exactly.”

Her expression changed.

“Daria.”

“Go back to work.”

She laughed.

“Sure.”

The door closed.

I looked back at my laptop.

Great.

Now even my assistant was suspicious.

By evening, I was at my mother's house.

My father was already there.

Of course.

He was sitting in the living room with a glass of wine, looking like he'd been waiting for me.

“You've been ignoring my calls.”

I took off my coat.

“I've been working.”

“You left last night without telling anyone.”

“I needed space.”

“You're getting married in six weeks, Daria. This isn't the time for childish behavior.”

I looked at him.

“Then maybe don't treat me like a child.”

His expression hardened.

My mother spoke before he could respond.

“Richard.”

He sighed.

“I'm trying to protect her.”

“No,” I said quietly. “You're trying to make sure the wedding happens.”

He stood.

“Because it needs to happen.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“The company?”

“The family.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Of course.”

My father walked closer.

“You think this is about money?”

“Isn't it?”

“No.”

He paused.

“This marriage gives you security.”

“I already have security.”

“You have a company.”

“I built that company.”

His jaw tightened.

“And you think you can handle everything alone?”

“I've been handling it.”

My mother looked between us.

“Please.”

I stopped.

My father looked away.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then he said quietly,

“Your mother wants to see you married.”

I looked at her.

She looked uncomfortable.

And I hated him for using that.

Again.

I grabbed my bag.

“I'll think about it.”

“Daria.”

“I said I'll think about it.”

I walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He looked suspicious.

“Why?”

“Because apparently I'm allowed to go home.”

My mother covered her mouth, trying not to smile.

My father didn't find it funny.

I did.

At least someone did.

The next morning, I arrived at the Blackwell headquarters.

The building was impossible to miss.

Glass, steel, security everywhere.

I stepped out of the car and looked up.

“Subtle,” I muttered.

My assistant followed behind me.

“You're meeting him on the top floor.”

“Of course.”

We walked inside.

The lobby was quiet.

Too quiet.

People moved around quickly, everyone seeming to know exactly where they were going.

A woman approached us.

“Miss Vale?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Blackwell is expecting you.”

I nodded.

She led us toward the private elevator.

My assistant leaned closer.

“You're nervous.”

“I'm not.”

“You're tapping your fingers.”

I looked down.

I was.

I stopped.

“Better?”

“No.”

I ignored her.

The elevator opened.

We stepped out.

A man was waiting.

Tall.

Dark suit.

Calm expression.

Roman.

He looked exactly like he had the night before.

Except now I knew who he was.

He looked at me.

“Daria.”

“Roman.”

His eyes briefly moved to my assistant.

“Would you like her to join us?”

I glanced at my assistant.

She immediately understood.

“I'll wait outside.”

Roman nodded.

The doors closed behind her.

Silence.

He walked toward his office.

I followed.

“You came.”

“You expected me.”

“I wasn't sure you would.”

I looked at him.

“You sent me a marriage contract.”

“I sent you an offer.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

I sat across from him.

He took his seat behind the desk.

A folder was already waiting.

I looked at it.

“You prepared this already?”

“Yes.”

“Fast.”

“I don't like wasting time.”

I opened the folder.

The first page was straightforward.

One-year marriage.

Separate finances.

No interference in business.

Public appearances when necessary.

Confidentiality.

I turned the page.

Then another.

Then another.

I looked up.

“You've thought about everything.”

“I had to.”

I tapped the page.

“What about dating?”

Roman looked at me.

“Dating?”

“If we're married, people are going to assume we're together.”

“We will be.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“I know.”

He leaned back.

“You can see whoever you want.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“So can you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment.

Then he added,

“But don't create scandals.”

I almost laughed.

“You're giving me rules already?”

“I'm giving you common sense.”

“I have plenty of that.”

“I noticed.”

I looked at the contract again.

Then at him.

“This is actually happening.”

“If you agree.”

I closed the folder.

“Give me a week.”

Roman nodded.

“A week.”

I stood.

“That's it?”

“What else?”

“I don't know.”

He looked completely calm.

“You said you needed an escape.”

“I do.”

“Then take the week.”

I stared at him for a moment.

He wasn't pushing.

Wasn't trying to convince me.

He had simply given me an option and left the decision in my hands.

For some reason, that made the decision harder.

I picked up my bag.

“I'll see you in a week.”

Roman nodded.

“Daria.”

I turned.

“You don't have to marry me.”

I waited.

“If you change your mind, walk away.”

I studied him.

Then I smiled faintly.

“That might be the first thing you've said that actually makes me trust you.”

He didn't smile.

But there was something in his eyes.

Something I couldn't quite read.

“See you in a week.”

I left his office.

And for the first time since my father announced the wedding, I felt like my future was actually in my hands.

Maybe marrying a stranger wasn't the smartest decision.

But staying in the marriage my father had chosen for me felt worse.

And I already knew which risk I was willing to take.