Chapter 1: The Marriage Contract
519 Words
You may now kiss the bride.”
The priest's words fell like a cold stone in Rita's chest. She stood still, lips trembling slightly, but her face remained composed—trained, practiced. The grand cathedral, filled with strangers in designer suits and diamond-studded gowns, seemed to blur into silence.
Richard Hooked, the man she had just married, leaned in and pressed a dry, calculated kiss to her cheek. Not even a glance into her eyes. It was mechanical. Emotionless.
And yet, the cameras flashed. The crowd clapped. To the world, it was a dream wedding. But to Rita Daniels, it was a contract. A sacrifice.
Earlier that week, her father had been on his knees—literally—begging Richard for mercy. His company, once a family legacy, was sinking. The only way out? A merger. But Richard Hooked didn’t offer charity.
He offered marriage.
A business agreement, not a love story.
“One year,” Richard had said. “Then we annul it, clean and quiet. You go your way, I go mine.”
And now here she was—Mrs. Hooked.
She forced a smile as they walked down the aisle together, hand-in-hand. But her heart? Cold. Caged. Terrified.
(Richard’s POV)
The whiskey in his glass had gone warm. Richard Hooked stared out over the city skyline from the penthouse balcony, the lights flickering like faraway stars—beautiful, but distant. Much like everything in his life.
He had built empires, crushed competitors, and signed deals that reshaped industries. But this? This felt more personal. More dangerous.
A marriage contract.
To a woman he’d never even kissed.
He turned the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid slosh gently. Rita Ezeh. Twenty-one. Too young for this. Too innocent for him. He’d seen her twice before—the first time in her father’s office, her eyes sharp despite the fear. The second time, at a charity gala, where she wore borrowed confidence like a second skin. She hadn’t smiled once.
She would never agree to this out of love. It was duty. Desperation. Family.
And maybe... that’s why he said yes.
Richard didn’t believe in fairy tales. His world was made of balance sheets and bloodlines, not hearts and flowers. But when Cassandra had proposed the match, something in him didn’t fight it. Maybe he was tired of being alone. Or maybe it was the way Rita held her chin high even when the world treated her like a pawn.
He respected that. Needed that kind of fire beside him.
Still, he couldn’t shake the guilt.
She deserved more than a contract. More than a man whose past was shadowed by betrayal and business wars.
But if she accepted... he would protect her. Provide for her. Give her freedom, even within the cage of their arrangement.
And maybe, just maybe, they’d find something real hidden between the terms of their agreement.
With a sigh, he downed the whiskey and turned toward the door.
Tomorrow, the deal would be signed.
And his life—as cold and calculated as it had been—would never be the same.
- Writer
