The Billionaire’s Collateral

Chapter3

The Contract

Tessa had never felt so small.

The contract in her lap looked less like a marriage agreement and more like a prison sentence dressed up in legal jargon. Pages upon pages of rules, stipulations, and threats, all written in fine print that screamed, This isn’t a marriage. It’s a transaction.

Her hands shook as she flipped through it page by page, sitting in the backseat of Blake West’s G - Wagon as the car drove through Sydney’s shining night. Every passing streetlight illuminated another line that made her chest tighten.

Section 1: Duration — One year minimum. Divorce before one year all agreed benefits will be null and void.

Section 2: Appearances — The wife must accompany the husband to all events as requested. Failure to do so or absence attracts financial penalties.

Section 3: Behavior — Public image must be prestigious. Scandals, rumors, or disobedience will make the financial support null and void.

Section 4: Confidentiality — The wife will not disclose or discuss any private family matters with nobody. Breach of this term will attract and must attract litigation.

And then, deep in the final pages, a section in tiny typeface:

Section 10: Upon failure of the husband to deliver and carry out specific conditions unknown to the wife, full control of the estate shall be passed to the spouse.

Tessa blinked, reading it twice. Unknown to the wife? What does that mean? Before she could sit upright and lean forward to ask Adrian — Blake’s silent assistant in the front — Blake’s voice sliced through the quiet room like a blade.

“Stop reading.”

Her head snapped up. Blake was beside her, his eyes dimmed by the city lights. “I told you already, the contract is for my lawyers. You sign, you follow, and you obey orders. That’s all that matters and all you have to do.”

Tessa wanted to ask questions and protest against it, to request for a well detailed explanation, but one glance at his face — tight, unfriendly and cold— told her it would be in vain and pointless and there would be no room for it.

She looked back at the bold glowing skylines outside, her chest as heavy as a truck. This wasn't a life changing opportunity. This was a new cage in a more challenging way.

Before Blake’s car had arrived earlier that evening, Tessa had called Rachel. She always called Rachel when things got too heavy.

Rachel Whitmore had been her best friend since high school — the wild and stubborn one, the beautiful one, the one who’d dropped out and started working at the hottest clubs to make a living for herself. Despite her careless choices, Rachel had always been there for Tessa: slipping her twenty-dollar bills and more sometimes when tips were good, smuggling groceries into her fridge when the power was cut off, giving an ear when Tessa felt like the world was closing in and had no else to run to.

Now, as Tessa stood on the curb waiting for Blake’s car, Rachel had rushed in as soon as she could, heels clicking on the cracked sidewalk, a leather jacket shoved over her shoulder.

“Are you really going to do this?” “Are you sure about this”? Rachel’s voice had been a mix of awe and… envy. Her green eyes scanned the approaching G - Wagon like it was a spaceship landing from another planet. “You’re actually going to marry Blake freaking West? Do you have any idea how many women would kill for this chance?”

Tessa shot her a look. “I’m not one of them. This isn’t a fairy tale. Greg sold me like I’m some vegetable—”

“First class ticket,” Rachel interrupted with a laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Look, my girl, I know it. You’re scared. But you’re walking into the kind of life most girls only see on magazine covers. Mansions. Diamonds. Chauffeurs. Freedom. You’ll never have to scrub dishes at that café again.”

“Freedom?” Tessa had whispered bitterly. “Rachel, I’m about to be a pawn in a family I know absolutely nothing about. I doubt they’ll even let me breathe without permission.”

Rachel had smirked, but there was a blink in her eyes Tessa couldn’t quite understand . “Then learn to play their game before they play you. And if you ever get tired of it…” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “There are faster ways to make money than being some billionaire’s doll. Come dance with me at Velvet. One month, and you’ll have enough to walk away.”

Tessa shook her head, firm. “You know I can’t. I’ve always dreamt of becoming a nurse. Not… whatever that is, you call it.”

Rachel’s smile vanished fro her face, but only for a moment. “Suit yourself. Just… don’t forget who your real friends are when you’re digging in gold and diamonds , okay?”

One thing Tessa didn’t see coming was Rachel pulling out her phone at that particular moment she turned away, typing a quick message to a contact saved only as N.A:

“She’s in. I’ll make sure she loosens up before the year runs out.”

The West estate hovered like a fountain as the car turned onto a private, tree-lined, flowers well trimmed drive. The gates — bold brown iron, crowned with the family crest carved on it — slides open with a mechanical hum. The mansion beyond looked less like a home and more like a museum: spread so wide, cold, its windows glittering faintly in the dark.

The car drove close and stopped at the grand entrance of the mansion. Tessa hopped out, holding on to her bag, her breath catching so deep at the sheer scale of the place. Marble rows and columns, perfectly carved hedges, and a fountain shaped like a lion roaring so loud and its tail up greeted her.

A bad atmosphere , if she’d ever feel one.

Inside, the atmosphere was so calm, the air was cool, perfumed faintly with something expensive and sterile. Staff lined the foyer, their faces showing lack of emotion. A chandelier dropped crystals above her head, looking like diamonds throwing fractured light across the marble floors.

Blake’s voice cut through the silence. “Welcome to your new home. Rule number one — don’t ever get lost. I will never come looking for you.”

Tessa swallowed, nodding her head slightly . Her sneakers squealed lightly against the floor as she followed him up the wide spread staircase, so spacious with so many side doors. At the top, a long corridor sprawled, in long was the portraits of West lineage and ancestors, their painted eyes cold and looking accusing.

She shivered.

Almost halfway down the staircase , she heard a loud—wild, oppressive,entertaining laugh. A woman emerged from one of the side rooms around, dressed in silk black dress flowing, a glass of sparkling wine in her hand. She looks so classy and demure,elegant and stunning, with perfectly curled blonde hair and lips painted in bold pepper red, her cologne wild spread everywhere into the air.

“Oh Wow! Well well,” the woman said, her stare glancing through Tessa like she was inspecting a log of wood or a piece of furniture maybe. “So this is the wife. I thought you’d pick someone… better this time.”

Blake didn’t even slow his stride. “Mother, not tonight.”

Tessa froze. Mother? This was Miranda West? She barely looked forty, dripping in diamonds, exhibiting an energy that felt more manipulative than maternal.

Miranda’s smile widened, predatory indeed. “Be careful, dear. The last girl who lived here cried herself to sleep every night… until she ran away. Shame, pain, trapped really. She was prettier than you.”

Tessa’s chest pounding loud in her ears. She followed Blake anxiously in silence as Miranda’s laughter echoed down the hall.

That night, after Tessa was shown to her room — a lavish suite that felt more like a hotel than a home — she sat on the edge of the bed, looking deep at the contract again and again looking confused. That strange Section 10 still nagged at her.

What “conditions” could possibly transfer the entire estate to her? Why had Blake looked so uninterested in the details?

She flipped through the pages again… and a folded note slipped out from between the sheets. Not part of the contract. Handwritten, in an elegant scrawl:

“Blake West is not his father’s son. When the truth comes out, everything changes. Protect yourself.”

Tessa’s blood ran cold. Who wrote this? Is this a joke? Is it real? A threat? A warning?

Before she could react to what she saw, there was quiet a knock at her door.

“Tessa?” a voice whispered. It was Rachel, her familiar face a shock in this place. “They hired me for event staffing tonight. Let me in.”

Tessa opened the door, relief flooding her. But Rachel’s eyes weren’t soft with friendship. They flicked to the contract on the bed, then back to Tessa with a strange intensity.

“You need to be careful,” Rachel murmured, stepping inside. “These people? They’ll eat you alive. Unless you… play smarter.”

“What do you mean?”

Rachel’s smile was slow, calculated. “You could take everything from them if you wanted. That husband of yours? He doesn’t even know half the secrets in his own house. Big Secrets that could make you wealthy and get rich enough to walk away tomorrow or anytime you want.”

Tessa looking worried, a chill creeping up her body. “Rachel, what are you?” “Who are you”?

A loud thud echoed from the hall. Both girls paused. Another thud. Then the sound of glasses shattering.

Rachel’s smile disappeared . “Whatever that is, we can’t risk getting caught around here.” She walked toward the door, mummuring, “Think about everything I said tonight. And watch your back. Even I can’t protect you if you end up trusting in the wrong person.”

Tessa was left standing in the suite, heart hammering, clutching the note about Blake as the sound of footsteps approached her door… heavy, deliberate, and stopping right outside.

A shadow moved under the c***k of the door.

And then—

A quiet, deliberate knock.

A man’s voice, low and unrecognizable to her, mumbled from the other side:

“Mrs. West… we need to talk. About your soon to be husband or husband perhaps.”