Contractually Yours: The CEO's Secret Bride

The Devil’s Contract

I didn’t sleep.

Not because I wasn’t tired. I was exhausted, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing: the contract sitting on my coffee table, waiting like a decision I couldn’t escape.

The words were still clear in my mind.

“Become my wife, Ms. Bennett.”

I let out a frustrated breath and covered my face.

A marriage contract with Damon Cross.

The man who had been my boss for three years. The man whose approval I had spent years trying to earn. The man I had always believed was impossible to understand.

And now he wanted me to become his wife.

I looked at the black leather portfolio again, remembering the conversation before I left his office.

“Why me, Mr. Cross?”

Because that was the question I could not ignore.

Damon Cross did not make careless decisions. Every action had a reason, and every word had a purpose.

His answer still echoed in my mind.

“Because I know exactly what I’m getting.”

At first, I hadn’t understood what he meant.

Now, sitting alone with the contract, I finally did.

Three years beside him had made me predictable. Reliable. Professional.

I had never missed a deadline, never broken his trust in my work, and never given him a reason to question my judgment.

To Damon Cross, certainty was worth more than trust.

I wasn’t special.

I was simply the safest choice.

Somehow, that sounded exactly like Damon.

“Three days.”

His voice echoed in my head.

“Read the contract carefully. Then give me your answer.”

Three days.

Three days to decide whether I was willing to trade my normal life for a year inside Damon Cross’s world.

I finally reached for the portfolio.

“I’m just reading,” I whispered. “Nothing more.”

The first page immediately made my heart sink.

**Temporary Marriage Agreement.**

I stared at the title for several seconds. Even seeing the words felt unreal.

The purpose was clear: a temporary marriage between Damon Cross and Claire Bennett for mutual benefit, public appearances, and personal objectives.

Twelve months.

One year.

I continued reading.

Living arrangements. I would move into his residence. Separate bedrooms. Separate privacy. No outside relationships.

My eyes stopped at one sentence.

“Unless mutually agreed otherwise.”

My face immediately heated.

“Absolutely not.”

I closed the page for a moment.

Of course Damon Cross would include something like that. Everything needed rules. Everything needed control.

Even marriage.

I continued reading.

Public events. Family gatherings. Media appearances.

Becoming Mrs. Cross meant stepping into a world where everyone would have an opinion about me. The former assistant who suddenly became the CEO’s wife.

People would question my motives. They would question his.

And maybe they would be right.

Then I reached the financial section and froze.

I read the number once.

Then again.

The amount was beyond anything I expected. More than my annual salary. More than my severance payment.

With this money, the farm could survive. The debts could be cleared. My student loans could disappear.

For years, I had been working toward impossible goals, and suddenly Damon Cross had placed the solution in front of me.

One signature.

That was all.

That was why it scared me.

Because this wasn’t just an offer.

It was a way out.

And sometimes, the easiest way out came with the biggest price.

I continued reading.

Confidentiality agreement. Security protection. Living expenses. Medical coverage.

Everything was carefully written.

Everything was controlled.

Just like Damon.

Then I reached the termination clause.

I almost laughed.

Of course.

There had to be one.

If the agreement was broken, Damon would decide whether the financial benefits remained. No negotiation. No exceptions.

“Typical Damon Cross.”

Even his marriage contract had to give him control.

“Hey.”

I immediately closed the portfolio.

Tori stood at the doorway, her eyes narrowed.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

The answer came too quickly.

She crossed her arms.

“Claire.”

I sighed.

Lying to Tori had always been impossible. She knew me too well.

“What happened?”

I looked away.

“It’s complicated.”

“Does it involve Ethan?”

My chest tightened.

Even hearing his name still hurt.

I shook my head.

“No.”

Her expression changed.

“Then it’s serious.”

I didn’t answer because she was right.

A contract marriage with Damon Cross was not something anyone could call normal.

“What if someone offered you a solution?” I finally said. “A solution to everything you’ve been struggling with?”

Tori didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she asked, “What does it cost?”

I looked down at the contract.

My silence gave her the answer.

“A lot.”

She sighed.

“Who?”

I hesitated, then whispered:

“Damon Cross.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh.”

A pause followed.

“Oh no.”

I almost smiled.

“That bad?”

“Claire, you survived three years working for him.” She looked at me seriously. “But marrying him?”

She shook her head.

“That’s a different level of dangerous.”

I looked at the contract again.

“I know.”

“Then why are you considering it?”

Because I was tired. Because I was scared. Because for the first time in years, I didn’t know how to fix everything by myself.

But I couldn’t say that.

So I only answered:

“Because I don’t have many choices.”

---

My phone rang.

The moment I saw the name on the screen, my expression softened.

**Grandma.**

“Peanut.”

Her voice instantly made me feel like I was back home. Safe. Before everything became complicated.

“Are you okay?”

I smiled faintly.

“I’m fine.”

The lie came naturally.

Too naturally.

Because I had spent years saying those words.

I’m fine when the farm needed help.

I’m fine when the bills kept increasing.

I’m fine when work became impossible.

But Grandma had always been different. She could hear the things I never said.

A short silence followed before she spoke softly.

“You don’t sound fine, Peanut.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

I looked at the contract sitting on the table—the future I had not decided on, the life I no longer recognized.

“I’m just tired.”

Another lie.

But telling her the truth felt impossible.

How could I tell her that Ethan, the person I thought would stay forever, had chosen someone else? That I had lost my job? That the only solution in front of me was a marriage agreement with a man everyone feared?

No.

I couldn’t let her worry.

Not when she had spent her whole life worrying about me.

“Is Damon treating you too harshly again?”

I froze.

Even after leaving Cross Enterprises, his name still followed me.

I forced a small laugh.

“He’s always been demanding.”

Grandma sighed.

“That man needs to learn how to relax.”

I smiled.

It was probably the kindest thing anyone had ever said about Damon Cross.

Then her voice softened.

“Peanut, promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t spend your whole life trying to carry everything alone.”

My throat tightened because that was exactly what I had been doing.

Trying to save the farm. Trying to protect my family. Trying to prove I was strong enough.

“You always think you have to be the one who stays,” she continued gently. “But you deserve someone who chooses you too.”

I lowered my eyes.

The words hurt more than she knew.

Because lately, it felt like everyone was choosing something else.

Ethan chose Sophie.

Damon chose me because I was useful.

And I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.

“I just want you to be happy.”

I swallowed.

“I know, Grandma.”

“Are you eating properly?”

A small laugh escaped me.

“Yes.”

“Don’t lie.”

I smiled through the sadness.

“Okay. Maybe not always.”

After we ended the call, I stayed silent for a long time.

Tori watched me carefully.

“She knows.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

“You’re still not telling her?”

I shook my head.

“Not yet.”

She didn’t push.

That was why she was my best friend.

I looked back at the contract.

One year.

One year pretending to be Damon Cross’s wife.

Then I could leave.

At least, that was the plan.

But deep down, I already knew.

Nothing involving Damon Cross was ever simple.