Signed to Be His Widow

Chapter 3 – His Deal, My Price

I must have heard him wrong, I sat frozen on the bench, barely breathing, staring at this man who looked like nothing in the world could touch him. Calm. Unreadable. Untouchable.

As if he hadn’t just dropped words that cracked the air open between us.

“I’m dying,” he’d said.

Two words. No hesitation. No flicker in his eyes.

Just… flat.

My brain didn’t even know where to put them.

“How?” My voice was a rasp, like it didn’t want to come out.

Aidan leaned back against the wooden slats, hands loosely clasped between his knees. He looked like he was talking about the weather, not his life. Not his death.

“I’ll be gone in six months.”

Gone. Like it was already on a calendar.

My heartbeat thudded so hard I could feel it in my ears.

“What do you mean… gone?”

His eyes stayed on the dark stretch of park ahead.

“Dead.”

I blinked once. Twice. My lips parted, but nothing came out.

Aidan Cross, the man the world thought had died years ago, was sitting next to me, alive and breathing, telling me he was dying.

It made no sense.

And yet… I believed him.

I don’t know if it was the weight in his tone or the tired way his shoulders sloped under that expensive coat. Maybe it was because I was too worn out to fight fate anymore.

Or maybe because, deep down, I recognized the look in his eyes.

A man running out of time.

“You’re not serious,” I said finally, forcing air into my lungs. “This is some kind of joke. Or a trap.”

“It’s not a joke.”

His voice shifted softer, but heavier.

“You’re in danger, Layla.”

I froze.

My name.

He knew my name.

“I never told you who I was.”

“No. But I knew.”

My stomach tightened. “How?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

That should’ve terrified me.

It didn’t.

It confused me more than anything.

Why would someone like him be watching me?

My gaze dropped to the folder in my lap. The thick paper. The signature lines. The marriage certificate.

“This is insane,” I said, thumbing through the pages.

“You want to marry me? Why? What does that have to do with you dying?”

“It’s simple. When I die, I need someone to inherit everything.”

I stared at him. “Why not your family? A friend? A lawyer? Why me?”

“Because I can trust you.”

A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

“No, you don’t,” I snapped. “You don’t know what I’ve done. Or what I’ve been through. You don’t know the mess I’m in, or what Reese is capable of. I’m not the kind of person you give your fortune to, Aidan. I’m the kind of person who can barely afford bus fare.”

He didn’t blink.

“Exactly.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve survived hell. You know what greed does to people. You’ve lost everything, and you’re still standing. That’s the kind of person I need.”

I looked away quickly, but the words still burned.

They pressed against the part of me I tried so hard to hide, the part that wasn’t just tired, but hollow.

The part that had stopped believing in better and started praying just to make it through the night.

Aidan leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“I don’t want someone polished. I don’t want a socialite widow. I want someone real. Someone no one will suspect. Someone who can keep a secret even after I’m gone.”

My grip on the folder tightened.

“And what happens after you die?” I asked quietly.

“You inherit everything. The house. The money. The estate. No strings attached.”

“No strings?” I didn’t believe it for a second.

“Just one.”

My throat went dry. “What is it?”

“You don’t ask questions. You don’t look for answers. You live in the house, follow the rules, and keep my secret.”

“And what secret is that?”

He turned to look at me, his gaze sharp but unreadable.

“That I’m still alive.”

I stared at him. “I thought you said you were dying.”

“I am.”

“But you’re also… hiding?”

A flicker crossed his face, the brief tightening of a jaw, the ghost of something dangerous.

“There are people who would kill me if they knew I was alive. People who have already tried. I’ve been in hiding for three years. I need to disappear for good. That means a legal death. An heir no one will question.”

I shook my head slowly. “And you think I’ll just go along with this? Be your fake wife for six months, then… what? Watch you vanish? Or die?”

“I think you’re smart enough to know this is the best offer you’re going to get.”

He was right.

And I hated that he was right.

“You don’t know Reese,” I said bitterly.

“I know men like him,” Aidan said, voice hardening. “I know what they do to girls like you. I know the control he has over you. I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m offering you freedom.”

That word made my heart trip over itself.

Freedom.

It sounded like a fairytale.

It tasted like air I hadn’t breathed in years.

Six months.

Then I could disappear. Change my name. Build a life.

No more cameras.

No more bruises.

No more selling pieces of myself while Reese counted the profits.

“What’s the catch?” My voice barely made it out.

“You live in my house. You don’t leave. You don’t ask about my past. You don’t interfere with my business. You follow the rules. And when the time comes, you play the grieving widow. For the cameras. For the story.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then we walk away. I disappear. And you go back to Reese.”

I clenched my teeth. He knew exactly what that meant.

“And if I say yes?”

“You come with me now.”

I froze. “Now?”

“Right now. No goodbyes. No suitcase. Just you and the contract.”

My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears.

“What if he comes after me?”

Aidan’s gaze darkened.

“He won’t find you.”

The way he said it… It wasn’t reassurance. It was a warning.

“I can protect you,” he added, softer. “But only if you let me.”

I stared at him. My body screamed not to trust him. To run. To crawl back into the cage I already knew. At least there, I knew the rules.

This? This was the unknown.

And yet… something deep in me, the part I thought had already died, leaned forward.

Yearning.

I thought of Wesley’s bruising grip on my wrist. Reese’s smug smile. The dress I hadn’t chosen. The nights I screamed into pillows so no one would hear.

Then I thought of six months.

A clean exit.

A new name.

Freedom.

I looked down at the pen clipped to the folder.

Looked back up at him.

And I nodded.

“I’ll do it.”

Aidan didn’t smile. Didn’t move.

He simply reached inside his coat, pulled out a second envelope, and handed it to me.

Inside: a change of clothes, a passport with a name I didn’t recognize, and a small folded note.

Welcome to your new life.