FOUR
1260 Words
ANDREA
“Okay.”
That’s all he said, that one word like he was agreeing to pick up milk from the store instead of me basically offering him my life on a silver platter.
I blinked at him, waiting for the sarcasm, waiting for the fight. I was basically waiting for Nathan De Luca to be Nathan De Luca, but instead he leaned back in his chair, calm as ever, like some arrogant mafia Zen master who had everything under control.
“Wait… what?” I raised my voice higher than I wanted. “Did you just… agree?”
“Yeah.” He pulled open a drawer, yanked out a piece of paper and grabbed a pen like this was a normal thing.
“Okay.”
I stared at him in surprise, I was expecting to beg him or even grovel at his feet which was way better than marrying that asshole.
“You… you’re agreeing to be my fake fiancé?”
He didn’t even look at me, all his focus was on the paper, the pen scratching across the page like my panic didn’t exist.
“Yep.” he said.
“No argument? No insults? No speech about how much you hate me?”
Nathan smirked slightly but still didn’t look up.
“Don’t worry, I’ll insult you later. Right now, I’m writing down the rules.”
“The… what now?”
“Rules,” he repeated like I was slow. “We are not doing this without structure.”
I blinked at him. “Are you seriously writing terms and conditions for a fake engagement? What is this?”
“Shut up. I’m working.”
My jaw dropped. And then my eyes caught the first line. My blood pressure spiked.
1. You must move in with me.
I slapped the desk so hard that his pen almost skipped. “Are you insane? Move in with you? What kind of stalker fantasy is this?”
He finally looked up, his eyes were glinting like he was actually enjoying himself way too much.
“If we’re going to convince people, Andrea, we have to live together. Couples don’t live in separate houses.”
“Plenty do!” I shot back. “They call it healthy boundaries.”
“Yeah, well, boundaries aren’t our thing.” Nathan chuckled.
I groaned. “Oh, this is rich. You’ve wanted me out of your life since kindergarten, and now you’re demanding I move in with you? What’s next?”
“Don’t tempt me.” He said as he went back to writing.
I leaned over the desk all ready to tear the paper out of his hand but then I saw the next line.
2. We must be together for a year.
My mouth fell open. “A year? Are you out of your mind? That’s like… three hundred and sixty-five days too long!”
He didn’t flinch. “Three hundred and sixty-six if it’s a leap year.”
“Do not get smart with me.”
“Too late,” he muttered.
I threw my hands in the air in protest. “A year? that is practically a f*****g marriage!”
“Exactly.” He shrugged so casually that it made me want to scream. “It has to look real. No one believes in an engagement that lasts two months.”
I glared at him. “I’d last two minutes before killing you.”
“Then this will be a fun challenge,” he said smoothly while writing again.
And then came the third line.
3. You cannot be in another relationship until the agreement is done.
“Wow. Someone’s territorial.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened just for a second but he didn’t stop writing.
“It is not about me. It’s about appearances. You are with me or you’re not. Simple.”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice just to annoy him. “What if I already have someone?”
His pen froze for a split second. His eyes cut to mine, sharp as a blade. “You’ll die an old maid cus nobody will want you”
My stomach did a weird little flip but I covered it with a laugh. “Oh, please. You sound like a villain in a bad soap opera.”
“Better than sounding desperate,” he muttered.
And then… then came the fourth line. The one that made me question every decision that had led me to this moment.
4. You cannot cook in my kitchen.
I stared. I read it again. And then I looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I shot out of my chair. “You’re banning me from your kitchen? Are you on drugs?”
Nathan finally leaned back, smug as hell. “I’ve seen you cook. You nearly burned down your father’s villa making pasta.”
“That was ONE time!” I yelled.
“One time too many.”
“I sneezed and the sauce splattered! That doesn’t make me a kitchen hazard!”
“You set off the fire alarm.”
“IT WAS LOW BATTERY BEEPS!”
Nathan grinned, victorious. “My kitchen is sacred. You can look but you can’t touch.”
I wanted to launch the stapler at his head. “This is not a relationship contract. This is some kind of dictatorship.”
“Then walk out.” He picked up the paper like he was about to rip it in half. “I have got better things to do than babysit you.”
And that was the thing. He meant it. He would toss this whole deal away just to prove he didn’t care. My heart pounded. My pride screamed at me to storm out and slam the door.
But my survival instinct was begging me to sit down.
“Wait!” I snatched the paper out of his hand. “Don’t you dare tear it.”
Nathan smirked. “So you agree.”
“I agree to make edits,” I snapped.
He slid the pen across the desk, amused as hell. “Be my guest.”
I scribbled so fast the ink nearly bled through.
5. No form of s****l relationship EVER.
I underlined ever three times, then shoved the pen back at him. “There. Non-negotiable.”
Nathan read it slowly, his lips twitching. Then he leaned back and laughed, low and smug. “Wow. Someone’s obsessed with me.”
“Obsessed? Please. That’s called trauma prevention.”
“Sure.” He signed his name under it, his handwriting bold, arrogant, confident. Then he slid the pen toward me. “Your turn.”
I hesitated, staring at his signature. Nathan De Luca. My enemy since childhood. My fake fiancé now. My pulse kicked like I was about to jump out of a plane.
Then I signed. Andrea Costa.
And just like that, it was official.
The Stupidest Contract Ever.
For a minute, the room was quiet, it was just me, him, the ridiculous paper between us and a thousand thoughts I couldn’t even picture .
Finally, I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You know this is insane, right?”
Nathan leaned forward elbows on his desk and his eyes locked on mine. “Good thing we’ve never been sane.”
I wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or maybe both. Instead, I shoved the contract into my bag like it was some cursed object and muttered, “God help me.”
Because this? This was only the beginning.
- Writer
