Contracting the Cold CEO

Chapter 2: Terms and Conditions

The pen felt heavy in Elena’s hand, the cool metal contrasting sharply with the sudden heat rushing through her veins. She lowered the tip to the crisp white paper, her signature tracing across the dotted line before her mind could convince her hands to stop.

Julian watched her with an unreadable expression. As soon as she set the pen down, he pulled the folder back, reviewing her signature with a single, slow nod.

"Wise choice," he said, opening a drawer and pulling out a second document. "Now that the preliminary agreement is signed, we move to the practical arrangements."

"Practical arrangements?" Elena asked, leaning back into the leather chair, her heart still hammering against her ribs. "You mean the rules of my imprisonment?"

"I prefer the term guidelines," Julian replied coolly, sliding a single printed sheet toward her. "Rule number one: You will move into my estate in Gold Coast by Wednesday evening. A public marriage requires a shared residence."

Elena blinked. "Move in? Julian, I have my own life, my own apartment, my own—"

"Your apartment is currently listed under Vance Logistics assets, which means it will be tied up in corporate restructuring by tomorrow morning," Julian interrupted, his voice steady and immovable. "Living under my roof ensures complete control over our public narrative. It prevents the press from digging into separate living situations."

Elena clenched her fists under the table. "Fine. What else?"

"Rule number two," Julian continued, holding up two fingers. "Discretion. You are free to pursue your personal work, but any media appearances, interviews, or public outings will be coordinated through my PR team. No unscripted comments."

"And rule number three?"

Julian paused, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a sudden, suffocating intensity. "No intimate involvement with anyone else for the duration of the contract. Publicly, we are a devoted couple. Privately, we are business partners. But any scandal that damages my position at Cross Global will result in an immediate breach of contract, and the thirty million loan will be recalled in full."

Elena felt a cold sweat break out across her neck. The sheer scope of his control was terrifying, yet beneath his cold demeanor, she caught a glimpse of something raw—a man fighting just as fiercely to protect his own domain.

"And what do I get out of these extra rules?" Elena challenged, resting her hands on his desk and leaning forward. "You get your company, your grandfather's trust, and a compliant bride. What stops you from throwing me to the wolves once the year is up?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of Julian's lips. "You're sharper than your father, Elena. Clause seven states that upon successful completion of the three hundred and sixty-five days, the thirty million dollars converts from a loan to an outright grant. Vance Logistics will be completely debt-free, and you will receive an additional ten million dollars in cash."

Ten million dollars. Enough to rebuild her life entirely from scratch once this nightmare ended.

"I want one more condition added," Elena said firmly.

Julian raised an eyebrow. "You're in no position to negotiate, Miss Vance."

"I'm your future wife, Mr. Cross. Start getting used to it," she shot back. "Condition: My father's medical care remains strictly private. Your PR team doesn't touch his story, and your family doesn't use his illness for sympathy points in the press."

Julian regarded her in silence for several long seconds. For the first time, the icy barrier in his eyes softened into something resembling respect.

"Agreed," he said softly. He tapped a button on his intercom. "Mark, bring in the revised addendum and call a car for Miss Vance."

As he stood up, adjusting his suit jacket, he extended a hand across the desk. "Welcome to Cross Global, Elena."

Elena hesitated for a fraction of a second before reaching out and taking his hand. His grip was firm, warm, and sent an unexpected shockwave up her arm.

"Don't make me regret this, Julian," she whispered.

His eyes flashed in the dim light of the office. "Regret is a luxury neither of us can afford."