(Pamela)
.
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THE WEIGHT OF the contract in my hands is a constant reminder that this is a very big mistake.
I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be entertaining this ridiculous offer.
But I find myself still skimming through the terms of the contract. It's a whooping 12 pages and each page ends up being worse than the last one.
Massimo is seated across from me. He doesn't say anything but his eyes speak volumes. I can’t bear to look at him so I focus on the document that I'm holding.
“Let me get this straight,” I begin, my voice shaky. “You want me to give up two years of my life, parade around as your wife, and pretend to be part of some picture-perfect family ... all to make you look good in the eyes of the media?”
“It's not just about me,” Massimo responds in a calculated tone. “Like I said earlier, it's also about Erik. He needs a home. Stability. Safety. You can’t give him that alone.”
My chest tightens as his words strike a nerve. “You don't know what I can or can't give him.”
“I know what the court will decide,” He asserted, his face blank.
His statement leaves me feeling drained because it's so obvious that he's going to win the court case. I've already seen the custody papers and it isn’t going in my favor at all.
His legal team has completely ripped me apart using all my weaknesses: my small income, my even smaller apartment, and my lack of connections. On paper, I look like a Nobody. A nobody fighting against a giant.
I stand up abruptly and begin to pace the office. My whole head hurt from all the overthinking.
“Why two years? Why not just take full custody and leave me out of it, like you always wanted?”
Of course, I don’t mean that, but curiosity always has the best of me sometimes.
Massimo leans into his seat, a muscle in his jaw ticking in annoyance. But his voice softens slightly, catching me off guard, “Because I've had a change of heart. Whether I like it or not, you matter to Erik. You're the only link to his mother and I don't want to take that away from him.”
I stop in my tracks at his words. I can’t believe there is still a hint of humanity in his heart. I always thought he had no emotions and didn't care about Erik at all. Perhaps I was wrong.
I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.
“Let's not waste any more time,” Massimo continues. “If you agree, sign. If you don't … well, you know how it all ends, don't you?”
My eyes dart to the contract again. The terms are ruthless:
1. Two years of Marriage, with Joint Custody of Erik
2. Pamela and Erik must move into Massimo’s estate
3. Both parties must maintain the appearance of a loving and stable marriage
4. Romantic or emotional attachment between the parties is STRICTLY prohibited
5. Both parties must avoid scandals or actions that could harm the family's public image
6. IF EITHER PARTY BREACHES THE AGREEMENT, THERE WILL BE PENALTIES ATTACHED
“I need a moment to think about this,” I say finally.
But Massimo doesn't look like he has that much patience. “Well, you don't have all damn day. And neither do I.”
My eyes linger on the most disturbing part of the contract. Clause two.
“Do I really need to move into your estate?” I ask tentatively.
The thought of it scares me. It's bad enough that I get to have a fake marriage with him but living together just doesn’t seem right.
The corner of Massimo’s lips curls into an amused smile. Like he can't believe his ears.
“Well, if we're going to do this together, would you prefer we mail Erik back and forth like a package? Or better yet, we could set up a schedule where I FaceTime him from my penthouse while you teach him how to balance your grocery budget.”
A flush creeps across my cheeks when I realize he's only being sarcastic. I didn’t know he had it in him.
He leans into his seat, his smirk only getting wider at my obvious reaction. “Yes, Ms. Brown, moving in is absolutely necessary. Unless you'd rather explain to everyone why our ‘perfect marriage’ looks like we can't stand to be in the same house.”
Okay then, he does have a point. But it still doesn't make the situation any more appealing.
“You barely know me,” I say. “Why would you trust me to live in your home and care for Erik?”
“Why wouldn't I?”
I shrug, “Because I'm a stranger?”
Massimo rolls his eyes as he leans forward with an impatient look. “A stranger who’s already managed to argue with me, insult me, and question my decisions in less than a week? Ms. Brown, you’re practically family already.”
I blink at him, completely caught off guard by his words.
“Besides,” he continues. “I’ve had my team look into you. If you had any dark secrets, trust me, I’d already know. Unless, of course, you’re hiding something my team couldn’t find?”
My stomach tightens and I shift uncomfortably. His sharp eyes don’t miss a thing.
“Thought so,” he adds, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Now, if you’re done questioning my life choices, maybe we can move on to the part where we make this work for Erik.”
I take in a deep breathe, my entire focus on the ballpoint pen on the table. The name D'Amato is engraved on it, giving it such a sophisticated look.
If I pick it up to sign these papers, my life would be over in a split second. Not only will I be getting married but everything else will change as well.
Everything.
Am I really ready to do this?