The Contract
676 Words
Alexander.
I didn’t need the lights turned on to tell me he was the one. But still, I clap twice and the room floods with light, revealing him standing at the doorway.
He’s out of his suit now, his shirt buttons loosened and drawn a bit, revealing a chiseled chest. I reprimand myself internally for checking out my sister’s husband. Technically, she’s the one married to him.
I sit upright, puzzled for what to say. Should I tell him the truth? If I do, Vivienne could be in big trouble, and Dad may never take me back. But if I don’t, I might end up in serious trouble.
He walks into the room, stopping at the foot of my bed.
"I spoke with your parents after the reception—care to explain why you’re pretending to be Vivienne? And why they aren’t aware of it?”
Oh no. If my parents know, then they’ll never accept me back. They’ll think I’m trying to steal Vivienne's life.
I don’t have a choice.
“It’s not what you think…”
“Oh?” he says, not buying it. “Do explain.”
“Okay, so Vivienne apparently has this guy she loves, and she was too scared to tell Mom and Dad. So, she begged me to take her place.”
“And you couldn’t refuse?”
“She offered me my life back. I was struggling, and she promised to convince Dad to take me in.”
“Ah, yes. You were sent out after that scandal.” He says it with judgment, and I try to drown out the sting of his words.
“Look, you don’t need to accept me. You can just file for a divorce, and I’ll leave immediately.”
“I’m afraid that can't happen.” He drops a file on my bed, and I hesitate before picking it up.
“What’s this?”
“Our terms in this marriage. I can’t divorce you due to the impact it would have on both companies, but I’ll make sure you regret deceiving me.”
I briefly skim through the file, seeing things like separate rooms, no s****l i*********e, no romance, no fulfillment of marital duties.
He was basically ordering me to live in a loveless marriage.
“What if I refuse this?”
“That’s fine. I’ll just reveal to the press that I was deceived into an unwilling marriage by two sisters. Who do you think it’ll affect more?”
Unfortunately, I realize he’s right.
With my scandal already clinging to my name, something like this wouldn’t just stain me—it would ruin me completely. Whatever fragile chance I had at rebuilding my life would be gone in an instant.
Tears slip down my face before I can stop them, warm and humiliating, carrying the weight of defeat and regret.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper, my voice unsteady. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen…”
He barely reacts. Not a flicker of sympathy. Not even irritation—just cold indifference, like my apology is beneath acknowledgment.
“I don’t care,” he says flatly. “Get your things ready. We’re leaving for the Maldives tomorrow—before reporters start swarming in.”
For a moment, I think I misheard him.
“The Maldives?” I repeat, my brows pulling together. “For what?”
“Our honeymoon,” he deadpans, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, after a beat, he adds, “By the time we’re back, the hype around this marriage will have died down.”
Of course. Not a honeymoon—damage control.
A performance.
Something tight coils in my chest, but I swallow it down. There’s no room for feelings here. Not anymore.
He turns and walks out without another word, the door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality.
And just like that, I’m alone.
Alone with the silence.
Alone with the consequences.
Alone with the life I agreed to step into… and can no longer escape.
- Writer
