Bound by Business

CHAPTER 5: THE AGREEMENT

The ride to the Lawson estate was quiet. Too quiet. My father sat beside me, scrolling through his phone like whatever it is he was looking at was easier to face than me.

When the car finally pulled up in front of the house, I quickly came down trying to avoid any conversation with my dad because I knew all he would do is try and convince me.

“Stacy,” my father said calmly, putting his phone in his pocket. “We need to talk.”

“I already know what you’re going to say,” I replied, my hand already on the door handle. “And my answer hasn’t changed.”

He sighed. “You haven’t even thought about it properly.”

“I have, Dad. I’m not marrying Ethan Blackwood.”

His tone softened, but I could hear the desperation in it. “This isn’t about you and Ethan. It’s about saving Lawson Innovations, protecting you, protecting our legacy. Our name.”

I turned to face him. “And you think selling me off to the man who has wanted to crush us for years is the way to do that?”

His face fell. “Don’t call it that. It’s not—“

“It is,” I cut in, my voice cracking because of the tears I was holding back. “You’re asking me to give up my pride, my privacy, and my peace for a company that might not even survive either way.”

He stared at me, almost giving up. “I’m asking you to protect our family’s legacy, Stacy.”

Family’s legacy. I thought to myself.

“I need some air,” I said walking away.

I was walking round the house when u found my mom in the garden.

“Mom,” I called.

She looked up, smiling. “You’re here.” Her smile faded when she saw my face. “I heard what happened. Your father approved?”

I nodded as I sat on the bench beside her.

She removed her gardening gloves and wiped her hands. “And you said no.”

“Of course I did,” I said almost shouting. “It’s absurd.”

She nodded, like she understood. “It is.”

Her agreement caught me off guard. “You think so too?”

“I think,” she said slowly, “that it’s unfair to ask you to marry anyone for business. But life isn’t always fair sweetheart. Sometimes the choices we hate are the only ones we have left.”

I swallowed hard. “So you want me to agree to it.”

“No. I didn’t say that.” She said as she turned toward me, eyes kind but firm. “I can’t tell you what to do and what not to do. I just want you to think about it. About what’s important to you… the company, your future, your peace. There’s no right answer here, Stacy. Only what you can live with.”

Her words hit deep. I mean what did I expect, my mom always made sense whenever she talked.

She reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Whatever you choose make sure it’s your choice… make sure it’s what you want.”

I felt my throat tighten. “I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

She smiled slightly. “Then start there. Figure that out first.”

“I don’t know if I can handle him,” I said, pulling her into a hug.

She chuckled. “Then make him handle you.”

By the time I got back to my penthouse that night, my thoughts were everywhere.

I called Tiana because she’s the only one that could help me at this moment.

“Girl emergency wine night,” I said immediately she picked up.

“I’m on my way,” she replied without hesitation.

Thirty minutes later, we were on my couch. Takeout containers, open wine bottle and the city lights shining into my apartment.

“So,” Tiana said between sips, “you’re telling me the man you’ve hated since college just proposed a contract marriage and your dad’s on board?”

I groaned, laying back on the couch. “Please don’t remind me. It sounds worse when you do.”

She burst out laughing.

I glared at her angrily. “It’s not funny.”

“I know, I know,” she said in between laughs. “It’s just… you. Married. To Ethan freaking Blackwood. It’s like a bad TV plot.”

I sighed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Only a little she admitted, leaning forward. “But seriously what are you going to do now?”

I stared at my ceiling. “The annoying part is… it actually makes sense.”

Tiana blinked. “Wait. You agree with him?”

“I didn’t say that,” I said quickly. “I just mean, from a business perspective… he’s right. It would boost investors confidence, control the press’ narrative, maybe even buy us time to fix things.”

She tilted her head. “But?”

I looked at her. “But marrying him, and pretending to play happy couple… that’s the part I can’t agree with. ”

Tiana nodded, understanding my point of view. “Maybe you don’t have to agree with it. Maybe you just have to survive it. It’s for a year. That’s better than for a lifetime.”

Her words were so true.

I downed the remaining wine in my glass, then set the glass down. “I think… I’ll discuss with my dad tomorrow.”

The next morning, I drove to the Lawson Estate. I found my dad in his study, as usual.

“I’ve made my decision,” I said, walking into his study.

He looked up immediately. “And?”

“I’ll do it.”

He stared at me for a while, like he was surprised I agreed. Then he sighed with relief.

“Stacy… thank you,” he said. “I’ll let Christian know.”

I nodded. “Just… don’t make it sound like I’m thrilled.”

He smiled. “I won’t.”

The call came the next day while I was reviewing some contracts.

Ethan’s name popped up on my screen. I wanted to ignore it but I was curious to know what he had to say.

“Lawson,” I answered flatly.

“I knew you’d come around,” he said in a calm but mocking tone.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back.

He chuckled. “Too late. My ego doesn’t take days off.”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want, Ethan?”

“We have to go for dinner tomorrow,” he said. “For public appearance. Just to catch the eye of paparazzi and a couple of industry heads. The world needs to believe this little merger is more than a business move.”

“And by that, you mean they need to believe I actually like you.”

“That too,” he said lightly. “Wear something elegant. Not that you need me to tell you that.”

“Send me the location. I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” I said.

“No. I’ll pick you up, then your driver can take you home,” he said, with a ‘it’s not up for discussion’ tone.

Before I could reply he hung up

This man just seems to get on my nerve everytime.

The next evening, I stood before my mirror staring at my reflection. I was dressed in a black satin gown draped over my body. Simple. Sleek. Effortless.

Tiana had offered to help me get ready, but I told her not to worry. I wasn’t just in the mood to talk.

I tied my hair into a low bun, dabbed on red lipstick, and put on my gold heels.

When Ethan arrived to pick me up, he looked good… which was annoying. Black suit, no tie, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You clean up nicely,” he said.

“Don’t get used to it,” I replied, grabbing my clutch.

He laughed under his breath. “Charming as ever.”

The restaurant was a five-star private dining space, quiet enough to talk but expensive enough to attract the right kind of whispers.

A few cameras flashed as we walked in, the reporters keeping a distance.

A lady who looked like she was in her 30s approached us as we stepped in. On her tag it was written ‘Manager’ clearly meaning she was the manager of the restaurant.

“Good evening, Mr Blackwood and Ms Lawson,” she greeted politely.

“Good evening,” we both replied.

“Follow me,” she said, as she led us to our table.

It was a private booth but still in the eyes of the paparazzi.

We sat across from each other.

“Smile,” he murmured. “They’re watching.”

I forced a smile that felt painfully fake. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He smirked. “Immensely.”

A young lady walked up to our table.

“Good evening, Mr Blackwood. I’ll be your waitress for the night,” she said, looking at me angrily.

“Just bring a bottle of champagne for now,” Ethan told her, dismissing her.

“I’m assuming that’s one of your whores,” I said to him as the lady left.

He chuckled. “Why the thought?”

“Cause she greeted only you, like she didn’t see me at the table with you.”

“Stace, we aren’t even married yet and you’re already jealous,” he said teasingly.

“I’m not jealous and don’t ever call me Stace,” I warned him.

He was about to say something before the lady came back with the bottle of champagne in her hand. She filled our glasses and left.

I took a sip of my champagne. “You are really insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said leaning in slightly, “you’re here.”

I met his gaze. “Only because my company’s survival apparently depends on tolerating you.”

“Then I’d say your company’s in good hands,” he said smoothly.

“Sure,” I muttered.

For the rest of the dinner, it was just short conversations and pretend smiles for the occasional camera flash.

When the last plate was cleared, Ethan stood and extended a hand. “Shall we?”

Outside, the night air was breezy. Reporters were stil standing towards the entrance as we walked toward my car.

Then, just before I reached the handle of my door, I felt his hand on my lower back, firm and deliberate.

He leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. “You did well tonight.”

Then he pressed a light kiss against my cheek.

It was so quick and perfectly timed for the cameras, but it sent a rush of heat up my neck anyway.

I was confused with his gesture.

As I slid into my car, the flash of cameras still chasing the car, I stared out the window and whispered to myself,

“This isn’t real. It’s business. Just business.”

The next evening, we met again. This time at the Blackwood mansion.

The contract lay on the table between us, a neat stack of paper.

Ethan’s father and mine watched silently from the opposite ends of the room. Ethan handed me the pen. “Ready, Mrs Blackwood?”

I shot him a glare, but

I didn’t hesitate.

I signed the paper.

When I looked up, Ethan was already watching me. Eyes steady and unreadable.

And just like that the deal was sealed.

I wasn’t just Stacy Lawson, CEO anymore.

I was his.

At least by paper.