Secrets in the Vows

The office was too quiet. Not quite in a peaceful way— just off.. The kind of silence that tightened the back of your neck and made your palms sweat. Katherine stood frozen inside the door, uncertain if she'd made a mistake coming at all, her hands hovered near the handle.. Her skin was damp, she hadn't even noticed the sweat until now. Across the room, Liam DeLuca didn't look up. No greetings, no acknowledgement.. Just a man with a pen and paperwork, moving like she wasn't even there.. Inside the door, unsure if she’d made a mistake coming in at all. Her hand still like she wasn’t even there He was writing. Or signing something. Sharp, purposeful movements that made her feel like this was already over before she stepped inside. “You’re late.” Her heart had barely steadied from the climb up his glass tower, but his voice? Calm. Unbothered. She swallowed hard. “I walked. Your driver didn’t come.” He paused. Just enough to let silence press its full weight between them. Then he looked up. There was something in his eyes she didn’t know how to name, cold, maybe, or bored. Either way, it told her not to waste time. “I have a proposal,” he said. She blinked. What kind of “Sit.” His hand barely moved toward the chair across from him. She couldn’t even say when she’d sat down. One minute she was standing, the next her legs were folded under her and her hands gripped each other so hard, it hurt. Not that she let go. “You’re six months behind,” he said. “On your sister’s treatment. The grants dried up. She hasn’t received medication in over a week.” Her stomach twisted. “How do you “I do research before I sign checks.” “You fund the lab, not my family.” He looked at her like she’d just misunderstood something simple. “You accepted my help. That makes you part of the contract.” “I didn’t agree to owe you.” “No,” he said quietly. “But you do.” Something inside her sank. He reached into a drawer, pulled out an envelope, and laid it between them like a card he didn’t need to play games with. “A contract,” he said. No explanation. No smile. She stared at it. “You’re offering me a job?” His expression didn’t shift. “I’m offering you a marriage.” The silence was sudden and heavy “I’m sorry what???” “It’s all in the paperwork.” She left it shut. “What’s the point? You don’t even like me.” “This isn’t about liking anyone.” “Well, what the hell is it about?” He leaned back in his chair like he had all day. “Your sister gets treated. You get housing. Financial coverage. I get the public image I need right now.” “And what do I get to pretend to be? Convenient?” “You get to survive.” Her stomach knotted. For a second, it was like she wasn’t even inside her own body anymore. Like she was watching from somewhere else. “If I say no?” He didn’t shrug. He didn’t blink. “You walk out. Nothing changes. Your sister waits for a miracle that won’t come. You keep scraping.” The worst part? He wasn’t cruel. He was just telling the truth. Her eyes dropped to the envelope. She looked down at the envelope. Didn’t touch it. She Couldn’t. “What is inside?” “Terms. A year. No intimacy. No feelings. Public appearance only.” “And then it’s over?” “You leave with your sister healthy. I leave with a cleaner record.” “And if I break the terms?” He did not answer. That, somehow, said more than anything else. She opened the envelope. Everything had already been filled out. Her name. His. A date. A signature line. It was like someone had already signed her life away and just needed her to make it official. She reached for the pen. Her hand was shaking. “Why me?” she whispered. You fit the profile. “What profile?” Liam looked at her, and for a second, it almost felt personal “Desperate. Quiet. Smart enough to fake it.” She signed. The pen scraped. It came out louder than it was meant to. He didn’t even glance her way. He just stood, walked to a side drawer, and pulled out a small velvet box. “Try not to lose this.” She opened it. The ring inside was cold and heavy. Clean lines. White gold. It looked like it cost more than everything she owned. She didn’t ask what his family would think. She didn’t ask what came next. She didn’t have to. “You’ll move in tonight,” he said. “What?” “There’s a gala in three days. You’ll be styled and briefed.” “You already planned this.” “I did.” “What if I hadn’t signed?” “You would have And she had. He didn’t even glance her way, just kept going, focused on whatever was next. She stood by the door, chest tight, thoughts a mess she couldn’t sort out. “Liam???” He glanced up. “What if I have questions?” He didn’t smile. Just said, Then be very sure you want the answers. She didn’t reply. She stepped into the elevator with the box clutched like it might shatter. Her reflection stared back, pale and polished, but off. The ring didn’t feel like a beginning. It felt like the end of something. And deep down, she knew the truth: He never needed her answer. He already knew she’d say yes. She stepped in, clutching the velvet box like it was either a blessing or a curse—couldn’t tell which. The mirrors caught her looking back, and she barely recognized herself. Same face. But her eyes? They didn’t feel like hers anymore. She tried to breathe. But it stuck, like something was squeezing tight, stopping her. What had she just agreed to? Who just hands out rings like they’re nothing? The elevator barely moved. So quiet. Like it was scared or something. And inside, something twisted up tight, sharp and awful. Not pain. Not exactly. More like… the dull echo of a decision that couldn’t be undone. Her phone buzzed inside her bag. One short vibration. She fished it out with shaky fingers. One message. No name. No number. Just words. “You don’t know what you’ve walked into. Be careful.” Her blood turned cold. She looked around the empty elevator. No one had followed her. But suddenly, the air felt heavier. Like the walls weren’t just watching. Like they were listening. Katherine backed into the corner, phone still in hand, heart pounding now. The message vanished before she could screenshot it. Deleted. No trace. And just before the doors opened, she heard it faint, but real: Three knocks. From somewhere below..