The Contract of Hearts

Chapter 2: The Contract

The next morning came too quickly. Emma stood outside Ryan's office door, her decision made but her stomach churning with anxiety. She knocked once.

"Enter."

Ryan sat behind his massive desk, looking like he had been there all night. His usually perfect hair was slightly messed, and his tie was loosened. For a moment, he looked almost human.

"I'll do it," Emma said before she could lose her nerve.

His expression didn't change. "Good. Marcus will go over the contract with you."

Marcus Chen entered the office, carrying a thick legal document. Emma had always liked Marcus. He was one of the few people who could make Ryan laugh, and he always remembered to ask about Tommy.

"Emma," Marcus said gently, "I want to make sure you understand what you're agreeing to. This is a legally binding document."

For the next two hours, they went through every line of the contract. Emma would live in Ryan's Upper East Side mansion. She would attend all public events as his wife. She would wear the clothes he provided, jewelry he selected. They would share a bedroom when guests visited but otherwise have separate rooms. No romantic involvement was permitted. No dating other people during the marriage. The marriage would last exactly 365 days from the wedding date.

"What about Tommy?" Emma asked. "He lives with me."

Ryan looked surprised, as if he had forgotten about her brother. "He can have a room in the east wing."

"He's fourteen, not four. He'll know something's weird about this."

"Then we'll tell him it's real," Ryan said simply. "The fewer people who know the truth, the better."

Emma wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. Tommy was terrible at keeping secrets.

"When do we get married?" she asked, signing her name on the final page.

"Friday. City Hall. Marcus and my assistant Catherine will be witnesses."

"That's in two days!"

"My birthday is next week. We need to be married before then." Ryan stood, extending his hand for a business handshake. "Welcome to the arrangement, Mrs. Blackwood."

His hand was warm and strong, and Emma felt a jolt of something that definitely wasn't in the contract.

That afternoon, Emma sat Tommy down in their tiny living room. The TV was broken, the couch had springs poking through, and somewhere upstairs, the neighbors were fighting again.

"Tommy, I have something to tell you."

He looked up from his phone, immediately worried. "Are you sick? You're not sick like Mom, are you?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Emma took a deep breath. "I'm getting married."

Tommy's phone clattered to the floor. "What? To who? You don't even date!"

"Ryan Blackwood. My boss."

"Your mean boss who makes you work weekends? The one you said has ice in his veins?"

Emma winced, remembering that particular rant. "He's not that bad. We've been seeing each other secretly."

"Since when?"

"A few months." The lie tasted bitter. "We kept it quiet because of work."

Tommy stood up, pacing their small room like a caged animal. "This is insane. You don't love him. I can tell."

"Sometimes love grows," Emma said weakly.

"Mom would hate this."

The words hit like a slap. Emma felt tears threatening. "Mom would want us to be safe and happy. Ryan can give us that."

"Ryan? You call him Ryan now?"

"Tommy, please. We're getting evicted. You're about to get kicked out of school. I can't fix this on my own anymore."

Her brother's anger deflated, replaced by guilt. "This is because of me. Because I'm expensive."

"No!" Emma pulled him into a fierce hug. "This is because life is expensive and unfair and sometimes we have to make hard choices. But I promise you, this is going to be okay."

"Do you even like him?"

Emma thought about Ryan's cold blue eyes, his demanding nature, the way he never said please or thank you. Then she thought about the million dollars.

"I'm going to try."

Friday arrived in a whirlwind. Catherine, Ryan's other assistant, had taken Emma shopping on Thursday. The wedding dress was simple but elegant, a cream-colored sheath that probably cost more than Emma's monthly salary.

"You clean up nice, Parker," Ryan said when she arrived at City Hall.

He was wearing a charcoal gray suit that made his eyes look even bluer. For a moment, Emma forgot this was all fake.

The ceremony was quick and impersonal. The judge read the standard vows, they exchanged simple gold bands Ryan had purchased, and with a chaste kiss that lasted exactly two seconds, they were married.

"Congratulations," Marcus said, but his smile was sad. "I hope you both know what you're doing."

Outside City Hall, photographers were waiting. Ryan pulled Emma close, his arm around her waist, smiling for the cameras. His touch burned through her dress.

"How did they know?" Emma whispered through her fake smile.

"I called them," Ryan said against her ear, his breath warm. "We need the world to believe this is real, starting now."

They climbed into Ryan's town car, and Emma finally let herself breathe. Her phone was already buzzing with messages. The news was spreading fast.

"Your brother is being picked up from school and brought to the house," Ryan said, scrolling through his own phone. "Your belongings were moved this morning."

"You packed my things?"

"I had it done professionally. Everything you own is now in your new room."

"Everything I own would fit in your closet."

Ryan looked at her then, really looked at her. "We'll buy you new things. A Mrs. Blackwood has to look the part."

"I don't want to be bought."

"You already were. One million dollars, remember?"

The words stung more than they should have. Emma turned to stare out the window, watching her old life disappear as they drove toward Manhattan's richest neighborhood.

Ryan's mansion was even more intimidating than she had imagined. Three stories of white stone and black iron, surrounded by a gate that required a code to enter. It looked like something from a movie, not a place where real people lived.

"Welcome home," Ryan said, and the sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

A staff of five greeted them at the door. There was Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper; James, the butler; Rosa, the cook; and two maids whose names Emma immediately forgot in her overwhelm.

"So lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Blackwood," Mrs. Henderson said warmly. "Mr. Blackwood has kept you quite the secret."

"Please, call me Emma," she replied, uncomfortable with the formal title.

"She'll be called Mrs. Blackwood," Ryan corrected firmly. "Show her to her room, Mrs. Henderson. The blue suite."

Emma followed the older woman up a grand staircase that belonged in a palace. Family portraits lined the walls, all featuring stern-looking Blackwoods through the generations. She noticed there were none of Ryan smiling.

The blue suite was bigger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed dominated one wall, there was a sitting area with its own fireplace, and the bathroom had a tub big enough to swim in.

"Mr. Ryan's room is through that door," Mrs. Henderson said, pointing to what Emma had assumed was a closet. "He wanted you close but respectful of your privacy."

After Mrs. Henderson left, Emma sat on the enormous bed and finally let herself cry. She was married to a stranger, living in a house that felt like a museum, and she had to pretend to be in love for an entire year.

A knock interrupted her tears. Ryan stood in the doorway between their rooms, having removed his jacket and tie.

"Your brother is here. He's not happy."

Emma quickly wiped her eyes. "I'll talk to him."

"Emma." Her name sounded strange on his lips. "This arrangement only works if everyone believes it. That includes the staff, my business partners, and especially Victoria. Can you do this?"

"Can you?" she shot back. "Can you pretend to care about someone other than yourself and your company?"

His jaw tightened. "I suppose we'll both have to learn."