A year with the tycoon

CHAPTER 5

Gregor POV

I told myself it was business. Just business.

I had my hands behind my back, and I was staring with enormous windows at Berlin. The metropolis was typical, cars, people, lights, but inside everything was tense and tight. It was the third time I looked at my watch within a span of five minutes.

She would come.

She had no other choice.

And that was a thought that disturbed me more than I would have liked to own up to.

"This is necessary," I muttered. "Purely necessary."

The contract was there, all in readiness, signatures ready. One year. Clear terms. No emotions. No hopes that were not on paper.

That was the way I managed to survive in this world. Still, my jaw tightened.

I had not slept much since the hospital call, as I had been told about the surgery of her mom. I said to myself, it was not a worry. It was a calculation. People are desperate, and they make fast choices. That was all.

A knock sounded at the door. My shoulders stiffened.

Open the door, security; open the door, I said.

I returned to the table, poured myself a glass of water, but did not drink it. I was reflected in the glass wall and looked calm and controlled. Good. That's how it had to be.

My position would be safeguarded at this marriage. Silence the board. Buy time.

It would also take an innocent woman to a war she did not start.

I pushed the thought away.

This was not about feelings.

This was survival.

The door opened behind me.

She entered the room silently, as though she was afraid of overcrowding the room.

Hilda did not really resemble the girl in the videos or headlines. Her shoulders were slumped. Her eyes were tired and red. Her face was pale. She wore the same worn jacket. Her bag was held in her hands, which shook a little.

She looked... broken.

Something unpleasant ached in my chest.

I ignored it.

"You came," I said calmly.

She nodded and did not make eye contact with me.

"My mother is in surgery."

I didn't respond immediately. I gestured toward the chair.

"Sit."

She didn't sit. But instead, she came straight to the table, picked up the pen, and looked at the contract as though it were going to fade away in case she did not look right at it.

You need not repeat it, I told you, I said.

I watched her closely.

"You understand the terms?"

"Yes," she replied. Her voice was flat. Empty.

"One year. No love. No lies to the public."

And you'll go by looks where it's needed, I said.

She nodded again.

"I will."

There was no negotiation. No argument. No anger.

I was more bothered by that than her rejection the first time.

She had shaky handwriting and signed her name.

Hilda Karl.

She laid the pen down neatly, as though it were a heavy one, when she was done. She then gazed at me, and then I felt I saw something uncivilised in her eyes. Not fear. Not hope.

Resignation.

"It's done," she said softly.

"Yes," I replied.

And at that same time, I had seen that this signature had altered more than my future.

It had sealed hers, too.

I didn’t wait.

As Hilda moved out of the table, I seized my phone. Money stuff was always easy.

Give me the amount, I said to my banker. “Immediately.”

The banker didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Mr Ludwig.”

I terminated the conversation and stared at her. She stood there with clasped hands and downcast eyes. She made no inquiries how or how much--she did not even thank me. That silence felt weird.

“It’s done,” I said. Bills of your mom will be cleared today.

She nodded once. “Thank you.” Her voice was very tender, nearly hollow.

You will know about it, I added. And some little living allowance.

Another nod.

Most people would cry. Some would smile. Other people would attempt to negotiate higher prices.

Hilda didn’t do any of that. She simply embraced it, as she had already lost everything of importance.

“You’ll move here,” I said. “Tonight.”

Her head lifted slightly. “Tonight?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Appearances matter.”

She swallowed. “I get it.”

I studied her. She was in a tense position, her eyes appeared exhausted, though there was something beyond that. Strength, maybe. Or stubbornness. I couldn’t tell.

You need not be frightened, I said, but I did not know why I was saying it.

She gave a small, sad smile. “I’m not scared of you.”

That surprised me. “Then what are you scared of?”

“Losing her,” she said quietly. All the rest has already happened.

I had no answer.

Her cell phone was buzzing, and she checked the screen. Her breath caught. “The hospital,” she said.

“Go,” I told her. “My driver will take you.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll come back.”

When she walked away, a weight dropped deep within my breast. This wasn’t triumph. It wasn’t relief. It was the insecurity that I had changed the life of a woman with a single transaction. I was not sure whether I had accidentally rescued her or ensnared her.

She had gone, and the apartment seemed too quiet.

I stood alone and gazed at the signed contract lying on the table. Hilda Karl. My wife. At least in paper.

I exhaled slowly.

This is in control, I said to myself.

My phone rang.

“Yeah?” I answered.

It was my head of security. He sounded tense. “Sir, the board noticed.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “That was fast.”

“Too fast,” he went on. “They know you’re married.”

I straightened. “How?”

He said the movement was caught in the hospital by the press. “Someone hooked the dots.”

Of course they did.

“And?” I asked.

And they are asking questions, he answered. “Hard ones.”

My jaw tightened. “Let them.”

“There’s more,” he said quietly. Already comparing her enemies are digging into her past.

A warning bell struck my head. “How deep?”

Deep enough to be dangerous, he said. “They know she’s weak.”

Weak.

The term made me grip the phone further.

And in case they find weakness, he continued speaking, they annihilate it.

I turned to the window and looked again at Berlin. The city was shining with calmness without any idea of the war beginning under its illuminations.

Increase my security twice, I said. “No mistakes.”

“Yes, sir.”

The phone was put down, but the tension remained.

Hilda was somewhere in the city and thought that the worst was over as she was standing next to the bed of her mom in the hospital.

She was wrong.

The fact that the moment she signed that contract, she became my greatest weakness and the target of my enemies.

And nothing would be long or strong enough to stop her.