The Billionaire's Contract Wife

YES

By the time I arrived at Vance Holdings the next morning, I had changed my mind at least twenty times. One minute I was convinced accepting Ethan's offer was the smartest decision I could possibly make. The next, I was convinced it was the dumbest. Every argument in favor of the contract seemed to be followed immediately by another argument against it, and the only thing I knew for certain was that I hadn't slept well. The dream certainly hadn't helped. I still couldn't believe my own subconscious had chosen to betray me quite so thoroughly.

As the elevator climbed toward the executive floor, I clutched the contract tightly against my chest and stared at my reflection in the mirrored walls. Dark circles sat beneath my eyes, making it painfully obvious I had spent most of the night overthinking. The doors opened with a soft chime, and before I could take more than two steps, a woman in a fitted navy suit approached me, blonde hair pulled into a flawless bun, carrying herself with the confidence of someone who ran entire departments before breakfast.

"Miss Thompson?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Vance is expecting you."

Of course he was. The woman introduced herself as Lauren, Ethan's executive assistant, and escorted me through a maze of offices until we reached the familiar glass doors of his private office. My stomach tightened immediately.

"Go right in," Lauren said, offering a professional smile before opening the door. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one about to make a life altering decision.

Ethan was standing near the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, sunlight tracing sharp lines across his face and the expensive black suit he wore. For a brief moment I forgot entirely why I was there. The man really should have come with a warning label. Dangerously attractive. Approach at your own risk. When he turned toward me, his expression stayed calm, but I noticed the faint tension in his jaw, and the realization surprised me. I hadn't thought Ethan Vance got nervous.

"Good morning, Maya."

"Morning."

His gaze dropped to the contract in my hands. "I assume you've made a decision."

Straight to business, no small talk, no easing in. Very Ethan.

I walked farther into the office and placed the contract on his desk. For a moment, neither of us spoke, and then Ethan folded his arms and looked at me expectantly. "Well?"

I took a deep breath. The answer was right there, one word, and yet somehow it felt impossibly difficult to say. "I read the contract."

A muscle moved in his jaw. "And?"

"I have questions."

Relief flashed briefly across his face, and it took me a second to fully understand what that meant. He had genuinely been worried I would refuse. The discovery made my heart beat a little faster than it probably should have.

He gestured toward one of the chairs. "Ask."

I sat and opened the contract. "There are fourteen pages dedicated to public appearances."

"Yes."

"Nine pages about confidentiality."

"Correct."

"Six pages explaining what happens if I embarrass you in public."

For the first time, amusement flickered in his eyes. "You seem to have read it thoroughly."

"Did you expect me not to?"

"No. I was hoping you would." I wasn't entirely sure why, but that answer pleased me more than it should have, maybe because it meant he respected me enough to make my own informed decision, or maybe because I was desperately searching for reasons not to think he was completely insane.

"How long?" I asked.

"One year."

My eyebrows shot up. "One year?"

"The merger process will take approximately ten months. One year gives us a safety margin." The man had planned everything, every detail, every possibility except, apparently, the fact that fake marriages tended to involve actual human beings with actual feelings.

"What happens after the year is over?"

His expression went unreadable. "We divorce."

The answer came so fast it caught me off guard. No hesitation, no uncertainty, just the word, dropped as easily as another line item on a quarterly report. Something about that bothered me more than it should have, and I pushed the feeling away almost immediately. This was a business arrangement. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, some small, stubborn corner of my mind couldn't help noticing how easily he'd said it, as though ending the marriage were simply another item on his calendar.

Ethan leaned forward slightly. "Maya, if you're looking for romance, I'm the wrong man."

The statement startled me. Had I been that obvious? My face grew warm despite my best efforts. "I wasn't looking for romance."

One dark eyebrow lifted, and the man clearly didn't believe me, which was annoying mostly because I wasn't entirely sure I believed myself either.

For a few moments, neither of us spoke. Then Ethan stood and walked toward the windows, his reflection staring back at us from the glass. "You know why I'm doing this," he said quietly. "But there's something you don't know." My grip tightened around the contract. "The board isn't simply trying to remove me. They've already chosen my replacement."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means I have enemies inside my own company."

The words hung heavily in the air, and for the first time, I saw a glimpse of the real pressure he'd been carrying, not the billionaire, not the CEO, just a man backed into a corner with nowhere left to run. The realization softened something inside me. Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe it wasn't. Either way, it changed things, because suddenly this wasn't just about money anymore. It wasn't just about my debts or my mother's medical bills. It was about two people trying, in their own separate ways, to solve problems neither of them could handle entirely alone.

Ethan turned to face me, and neither of us looked away. "I won't lie to you," he said. "This arrangement won't be easy. The media will follow us. People will question us. There will be moments when you wish you'd never met me."

A small laugh escaped me. "That's already happened."

To my surprise, Ethan laughed, actually laughed, the sound transforming him completely, stripping away every trace of the intimidating businessman and leaving someone who seemed, for one unguarded moment, entirely human. And somehow that made him even more dangerous, because it made him so much easier to like.

The realization should have worried me. Instead, it made my decision.

I rose from my chair and picked up the contract. Ethan's expression turned guarded again as he watched me reach for the pen sitting on his desk, his eyes following the movement.

"So that's your answer?" he asked.

I looked down at the signature line waiting for me, then thought about my mother, the hospital bills, the debt, the future I had been fighting so hard to build out of nothing. Finally, I looked back at Ethan.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I'll marry you."

For the first time since meeting him, Ethan Vance looked completely stunned.

And somehow, that terrified me more than anything else that had happened all week.