My Contract Husband

Chapter 2 : The Wedding

The church smelled like white roses and lies.

I stood at the back in a dress that cost more than my college tuition. White silk. Lace sleeves. A veil that covered my face so no one could see how scared I was or how much I wanted to run.

"Miss Johnson," the wedding planner whispered. She had perfect red lips and zero patience. "It's time. And smile. The cameras are everywhere."

My hands were shaking inside my white gloves. This wasn't supposed to be real. This was a contract. A business deal. $5 million dollars.

But my heart didn't know that.

The doors opened with a loud creak.

300 people turned to look at me. Cameras flashed like lightning. Reporters were outside fighting to get a shot. Mr. Carter's grandmother was in the front row in a wheelchair, oxygen tank beside her. She was smiling so wide I thought her face would crack.

And then I saw him.

Mr. Carter. Alexander Carter. Standing at the altar in a black tuxedo that looked like it was made for him by God himself. He looked tall, cold, and completely bored.

Like he was waiting for a business meeting, not a wedding. Like I was an inconvenience on his calendar.

"Walk," the planner hissed.

My legs moved on their own. Down the aisle. Past people I didn't know. Past the debt collectors that used to call me every day. Past my old life.

Past my future.

The music was too loud. My heels clicked on the marble floor. Every step felt like a step away from freedom.

When I reached him, he didn't take my hand. He just stared straight ahead at the priest. His jaw was tight.

The priest started talking. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

I didn't hear half of it. All I could hear was my own heartbeat in my ears. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

Was this illegal? Could I go to jail for fake marriage? Would Alexander Carter throw me under the bus if the FBI came?

"Do you, Alexander Carter, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked.

Alexander didn't even look at me. "Yes," he said. One word. Cold. Final.

"Do you, Emma Johnson, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I looked at him. His profile was perfect. Like a statue. His eyes were still gray and empty.

Think of Mom, I told myself. Think of the hospital bill.

"I do," I whispered. My voice cracked.

The ring was freezing when he slid it on my finger. A huge diamond. Probably worth more than my mom's hospital bill and my student loans combined. It felt heavy. Like handcuffs.

"You may kiss the bride."

Oh God.

He turned to me. For the first time his eyes met mine. There was nothing there. No warmth. No anger. Just... nothing.

It lasted one second. His lips were firm and cold against mine. Dry. For the cameras. He pulled back immediately like I had cooties.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the priest said, too cheerfully. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter."

Applause. But it felt fake. Like everything else today.

*SUSPENSE MOMENT 1*

As we walked back down the aisle, my phone buzzed in the little clutch I was carrying. Unknown number.

The text said: `I KNOW THIS IS FAKE. PAY ME 100K OR I TELL THE PRESS.`

My blood froze. Who was it?

I looked up and Alexander was already walking ahead of me. He didn't notice.

The reception was a nightmare. Crystal chandeliers. Gold plates. People I didn't know calling me "Mrs. Carter" like they meant it.

We had to dance. Of course we had to dance.

He put one hand on my waist. Through the silk dress I could feel how tense he was. Like he was touching a bomb.

"Smile," he muttered in my ear. His breath was warm. "People are watching."

So I smiled. While my chest felt like it was breaking and my phone was burning a hole in my clutch.

"One year," he said quietly. Only I could hear him. "Then this is over. Don't get any ideas."

"Yes," I said. "One year."

Then his grandmother rolled her wheelchair right into our dance.

"Alex! Kiss her properly!" she yelled. Everyone heard. "That's how you kiss your wife, not like you're kissing a fish!"

The whole room went quiet. Then people laughed.

Alexander's ears turned red. I had never seen him embarrassed before. It was kind of... cute.

"Grandma," he said through gritted teeth. "This is not the time."

"Nonsense," she said. "A wedding is exactly the time!"

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. This billionaire ice king was getting bullied by a 90-year-old woman in a wheelchair.

That night in his penthouse, 100 floors up, we went to separate rooms. Separate beds. Separate lives. Just like the contract said.

I sat on the edge of my huge bed and looked at the ring on my finger.

$5 million dollars.

All I had to do was pretend for 365 days.

Easy, right?

My phone buzzed again. Same unknown number.

`100K by midnight. Or I send the video of you signing the contract to TMZ.`

Video? What video?

My hands started shaking. Someone knew. Someone saw us sign.

I looked at the door. Alexander's room was 3 doors down. Should I tell him? The contract said "no problems".

Three months later, I was in the bathroom at 2AM. Staring at two pink lines on a pregnancy test.

My hands were shaking so bad I dropped it in the sink.

Mr. Carter can never find out.

But as I walked out of the bathroom, there was a manila envelope on my bed.

Inside was a photo. Me. At the hospital. Holding the pregnancy test.

And a note: `Congratulations Mrs. Carter. Let's talk about your baby. And my 100K.`

Someone was watching us.