EPISODE SEVEN : TERMS OF THE DEAL
1006 Words
The morning after the gala, the world had already decided what to believe.
“Billionaire Blake Engaged to Former Employee!” screamed one headline.
“Corporate Scandal Ends in Love?” whispered another.
And the worst: “Revenge Turned Romance Inside Brandon and Chloe’s Shocking Reconciliation.”
Chloe stared at her phone, scrolling through article after article until her reflection blurred on the glossy screen. The photographs from last night were everywhere her hand in Brandon’s, their faces inches apart under the chandeliers. To the cameras, they looked like two people hopelessly in love.
She wanted to throw the phone across the room. Instead, she tossed it onto the couch and pressed her palms to her eyes.
A knock echoed through the quiet of her apartment. Three firm, measured taps.
Only one person knocked like that.
“Go away,” she called, though her pulse betrayed her.
“Open the door, Chloe,” came Brandon’s voice, calm, smooth, infuriatingly sure of himself.
She exhaled sharply, tugging her robe tighter as she walked to the door. “You have some nerve showing up here.”
When she opened it, he was standing there in a dark gray suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his expression perfectly unreadable. He looked like he belonged to a world that never allowed cracks and that only made her angrier.
“You didn’t answer my calls,” he said.
“I was busy deleting every trace of your name from my soul,” she replied, crossing her arms.
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, scanning her apartment, small, modest, sunlit, nothing like the penthouses he lived in. “You’ve downgraded.”
“Get out.”
He didn’t. Instead, he set a manila folder on her coffee table. “I had my lawyers draft the agreement. It outlines the terms of our engagement.”
Her eyes flicked to it. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You keep saying that,” he said mildly. “And yet, you keep listening.”
“Only because you’ve cornered me,” she snapped. “You offered me a deal in front of cameras. If I say no now, it’ll look like I used you for publicity.”
His mouth twitched. “You’re welcome.”
She gave him a glare that could have melted titanium. “You don’t get to play savior. You’re the reason I was dragged through mud in the first place.”
“I didn’t leak those documents,” he said quietly.
“Maybe not,” she shot back, “but you didn’t defend me either.”
That silenced him for a beat. Then, softly: “I regret that.”
The confession caught her off guard. He wasn’t the type to admit regret, not publicly, not privately. For a moment, his voice carried something raw, like a fracture beneath the steel.
“Regret doesn’t undo anything,” she said. “You still want to use me.”
“I want to protect both of us,” he countered. “Tyler’s making a move. He’s been buying up shell companies linked to our investors. He’s planning a hostile takeover.”
She frowned. “And what does pretending to love me have to do with that?”
“Public sympathy,” he said. “If the media believes we’ve reconciled, it undercuts Tyler’s narrative that I’m a ruthless tyrant. Investors calm down. Stock stabilizes. Meanwhile, you get access to Blake Industries’ private files proof of who really leaked those reports.”
Chloe stared at him, disbelief warring with reluctant curiosity. “You’d give me that kind of access?”
“I’d give you controlled access,” he corrected. “But enough to clear your name.”
“And in return,” she said slowly, “I have to parade around on your arm, smiling like the woman you didn’t destroy?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
Her laugh was hollow. “You make it sound so romantic.”
He stepped closer. “You can hate me all you want. Just do it convincingly in private.”
Their eyes locked hers blazing, his cool and calculating, though something flickered behind it.
She finally looked away. “How long?”
“Six months.”
“Six months?” she repeated, incredulous. “You think I can survive six months pretending to be in love with you?”
He smiled faintly. “You underestimate your acting skills.”
Chloe grabbed the folder, flipping it open. The legal jargon blurred together *non-disclosure*, *joint media appearances*, *termination clauses*. And at the bottom, her name in neat print, waiting for her signature.
“You even left a space for my initials,” she said dryly. “How thoughtful.”
“I’m nothing if not thorough.”
She set the papers down and looked at him. “And what happens when your brother finds out?”
Brandon’s expression hardened. “He already suspects something. That’s why I need you now.”
The mention of Tyler made her stomach knot. He was charming where Brandon was cold, smiling where Brandon was silent and he’d been the one who’d manipulated her into leaking information she didn’t understand. When it all went public, he’d vanished, leaving her to face the fallout.
She walked to the window, staring out at the city below. “If I do this, I want full access to the files about the leak. No redactions. No restrictions.”
Brandon hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. You’ll get it.”
She turned back to him, her chin high. “Then we have a deal.”
He extended his hand. “Partners?”
She took it, her grip firm, her voice low. “Enemies with a contract.”
He smiled at the first real one she’d seen in years but there was no warmth in it. “Close enough.”
As he left, Chloe stood alone in the quiet, staring at the signed agreement in her hands.
She didn’t know whether she’d just reclaimed her life or sold the last piece of it she still owned.
- Writer
