Chapter Four
1557 Words
Emily's world tilted. Did she hear him right? Marry him?
She stared at Noah, her breath caught in her throat. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
"What?" she finally managed to whisper.
Noah exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel. "Isn't that what you wanted?" His voice was laced with venom. "You slithered into my bed, seduced me like a common tramp, and then ran to sell the footage to the press. You should be thanking me for offering marriage instead of throwing you in a cell where you belong."
Emily's hands curled into fists. Indignation roared to life inside her, burning away her initial shock.
"I didn’t do anything!" she snapped, her voice rising despite the lump of fear lodged in her throat. "You were the one who took advantage of me!"
The moment the words left her mouth, she froze. Had she just said that—to *him*? To the man who could ruin her life with a mere flick of his fingers?
Noah's lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "Oh?" His mocking tone sent a chill through her. "How convenient."
He turned his gaze back to the road, dismissing her completely.
Emily swallowed hard, her mind racing. Where was he taking her? She wanted to ask, but her fear kept her silent. Noah Harper wasn’t just powerful—he was dangerous. And right now, she was trapped in his car with no way out.
---
Across town, Rose’s phone vibrated with an incoming news alert. She glanced at the screen, tapping the notification absentmindedly.
Her casual interest turned to horror in seconds.
The headline blared at her:
‘Gay CEO of Blackwood Towers, Noah Harper, Caught in Bed with an Unknown Woman!’
Rose’s phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor.
"Impossible," she gasped, her face draining of color.
Hearing the panic in her daughter's voice, Olivia, her mother, turned from the kitchen. "What’s wrong?" she asked, concern knitting her brows.
Rose pointed at the fallen phone, too stunned to speak.
Frowning, Olivia picked it up and scanned the article. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Emily? *With Noah Harper?*
How? How was this even possible?
And more importantly—what would happen to their *five million dollars*?
Olivia’s grip tightened around the phone as rage bubbled up inside her. No. *No, no, no*. They had come too far to lose that money. There was *no way* they were going to let that little brat destroy everything!
Without another word, both women bolted toward the front door, their desperation making them clumsy as they nearly crashed into each other. Olivia yanked the door open, her voice already rising with fury—
But Emily was gone.
"Where is that useless girl?!" Olivia shrieked, her voice sharp with rage.
---
Meanwhile, Emily stood frozen in the middle of Noah Harper’s office.
She had never seen anything so extravagant in her life. The towering bookshelves, the sleek mahogany desk, the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city—it was breathtaking. Intimidating.
Noah’s secretary entered, breaking her daze.
"Get her something appropriate to wear," Noah ordered without looking up.
It was only then that Emily realized she was still in last night’s dress—tight, short, and scandalous. No wonder he had mistaken her for a streetwalker.
Her cheeks burned as she wrapped her arms around herself.
Noah’s sharp voice cut through her humiliation. "Why are you still standing there?"
"I—" she started, but words failed her.
"Out," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Emily scurried out of the office like a frightened mouse.
Noah leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. His jaw clenched as he stared at the headlines again. This scandal wasn’t just an inconvenience—it was a *threat*.
He *would not* let the press ruin him. He had worked too hard, built too much, to be torn down by a single reckless night.
Minutes later, Emily returned, now dressed in a modest jumpsuit. The secretary bowed and left, leaving her alone with Noah once again.
He didn’t acknowledge her immediately. Instead, he finished typing something on his laptop before rising from his chair. Moving to his printer, he retrieved two crisp sheets of paper.
Turning to her, he finally spoke.
"Emily Grant, correct?"
"Yes, sir," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Noah sighed, studying her for a moment before extending the papers toward her.
She hesitated before stepping forward to take them. Her eyes darted across the page—
A contract.
A marriage contract.
Her hands trembled slightly as she read through the terms. Two years. Ten million dollars.
Her heart pounded.
What about Jayden? What about their wedding tomorrow?
But then, an overwhelming thought settled over her.
To hell with Jayden.
To hell with the wedding.
If she signed this contract, she wouldn’t have to grovel for forgiveness. She wouldn’t have to watch her family sell her off for money and social status.
No. With this contract, *she* would be the one in control.
And ten million dollars? That was more than freedom.
It was power.
Noah leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze never leaving Emily as she read through the contract. The seconds dragged on, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
She lowered the document for a moment, meeting his eyes. Then, without a word, she returned to the paper, scanning each line as if trying to commit it to memory.
Noah's voice sliced through the silence, cold and commanding.
"Two years. That’s all I need from you. During that time, I will provide for all your needs. In return, you will do exactly as I say—no questions, no resistance." His tone was flat, absolute. "I will pay you ten million dollars and secure you a job in one of my subsidiary companies."
Emily swallowed hard.
"But," he continued, his eyes narrowing, "you must never do anything that could damage my reputation or that of my family. The moment those two years are over, you will disappear from my life. Forever. You will never approach me, speak to me, or even breathe in my direction. As far as I’m concerned, after two years, you cease to exist."
His words carried the weight of someone who was used to absolute obedience. Someone who expected his orders to be followed without question.
Emily clutched the contract. The Masons wanted to use her for their gain. Her own family had sold her off without hesitation. But Noah—he was offering her a deal. Cold. Ruthless. But a deal nonetheless.
She glanced down at the paper again. His signature was already there, stamped with an official seal.
This was real.
And compared to the hell she was living in, it was the best option she had.
---
Downstairs, the paparazzi swarmed like vultures, their cameras flashing aggressively as Noah stepped out of the building.
Emily barely had time to react before he yanked her close, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered harshly, "Behave yourself."
The reporters went wild.
"Oh my God! They’re together!"
"Noah Harper! Over here!"
"Give us a statement, sir!"
"Who is she? Is this an official announcement?"
"Are you finally confirming your relationship?"
The barrage of questions was relentless, but Noah remained unfazed. His grip on Emily tightened, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.
"She is my fiancée."
Emily’s stomach flipped. Fiancée?
I haven’t even signed the damn contract yet!
But she forced herself to play along. She had no choice.
Noah guided her toward the car, shoving aside reporters who tried to push too close. The moment they were inside, away from the flashing lights and shouting voices, he released her like she was something filthy.
Emily sucked in a breath, rubbing her wrist where he had gripped her so tightly.
"To the Civil Affairs Bureau," Noah instructed his driver without sparing her a glance.
"Yes, sir," the driver answered promptly.
Emily’s heart nearly stopped.
The Civil Affairs Bureau?
Is he serious?
Her fingers trembled as she reached into her bag, pulling out the contract. She had to make this official now.
"A pen, please," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.
Noah shot her a glance, then pulled out an expensive ballpoint pen, handing it to her without a word.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.
"President Noah, I swear I had nothing to do with last night. I didn’t leak anything to the press. I— I was drugged."
Noah let out a dry, humorless chuckle.
"Right. Because a b***h would ever admit to the truth." His words were laced with disgust.
Emily's chest tightened, a sharp pain lodging itself deep inside her.
She wanted to fight back. To defend herself. To tell him how wrong he was about her.
But what was the point?
Swallowing her pride, she lowered her gaze and signed her name.
One stroke.
Then another.
It was done.
The two-year contract was now official.
Emily sat back, the weight of her decision sinking in.
What had she just done? What was waiting for her on the other side of this deal?
One thing was certain—her life would never be the same again.
- Writer
