Terms and Conditions
1243 Words
Aria’s POV
Sean doesn’t remove his hand from my waist as he steers me away from the ballroom.
If anything, his grip tightened. The whispers started as we walked out of the room. I don’t look back.
We moved past the grand staircase and into a quiet hallway where two security guards stood. The men nodded when Sean approached. One of them opens a door. I didn’t even realize there was a room like this there.
The noise and music of the gala dies the minute the door shut behind us.
The private lounge upstairs is dimly lit and it has dark wood and leather furniture, the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.
Manhattan stretches below us, the city lights bright. It was bubbly; it was like nothing in my world had just collapsed.
Sean finally releases me.
I fold my arms across my chest, suddenly hyperaware of everything. My heart was racing from the fact that I had just been humiliated and that I’m alone in a room with one of the most powerful men in New York.
I turned towards him.
“Okay,” I say, my voice came out more quiet than I intended. “What just happened down there? I believe I deserve an explanation.”
He watches me for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he loosens his tie slightly.
“You handled that well,” he says.
I laugh once, sharp and hollow. “Yeah, right. I called my stepsister a f*****g b***h in public.”
He shrugs. “From the look of things, maybe she is.”
That earns him a look.
“Why?” I ask. “Why did you do that? Why did you lie to an entire room full of people and drag me into it?”
Sean walks to the window, hands slipping into his pockets. The city lights carve sharp lines across his face.
“Because,” he says calmly, “you needed an exit. And I needed a fiancée.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
He turned back to me and exhaled. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but, my grandfather is the chairman of my board. He is old-school and traditional. He believes a man my age should be married.” His mouth twitches. “He also believes unmarried men lack stability.”
“And that’s my problem because…?”
“Because,” he says, stepping closer, “if I don’t marry before my thirty-fifth birthday, the board forces me out.”
The words sounded strange.
“You run a multibillion-dollar empire,” I say slowly. “And you’re telling me they can just… remove you?”
“They can,” he confirms. “And they will.”
I stare at him. “So you picked me at random?”
“No.”
He answered that too quickly.
I narrow my eyes. “Then why me?”
Sean studied me for some second and he finally replied.
“Because you looked like you needed help and the fact that you didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break,” he says simply. “And because I knew you wouldn’t refuse my offer.”
My chest tightens. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is,” he counters. “You didn’t cry. You didn’t beg. You didn’t cause a scene. You walked away with your head up. That tells me everything I need to know about you.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I just looked away.
He gestures to the sofa. “Sit.”
I hesitated, then I sat on the nearest couch. He remains standing, towering over me with a look I can’t decipher.
“I’m proposing a contract marriage,” he says. “One year and then we go our separate ways.”
I burst out laughing before I could stop myself.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I don’t joke about my future. Or anything in fact.”
I shake my head. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t,” I snapped.
“You know nothing about me. You don’t know what I want. You can’t just waltz in and make demands.”
“I know. And I’m not making demands,” he says quietly. “But do you wanna go back down there and let them walk over you?”
That shuts me up immediately.
He continues, “You’ll move into my penthouse, we make public appearances when necessary. You’ll be treated with respect. You’ll have financial security.”
“And after a year?” I ask.
“We divorce quietly. You walk away with a generous settlement enough to build whatever life you want.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“You’re asking me to sell myself.”
“I’m asking you to help yourself,” he corrects. “And to help me protect what I’ve built.”
I stand abruptly. “I’m not some charity case you expect to jump on your so-called offer and you can’t just force someone to marry you because your grandfather scared you.”
Something flashes in his eyes.
“Good,” he says. “If you were desperate, I wouldn’t have offered.”
I paced around the room. My heels clicking against the floor.
“Why tonight? Why me? Why not some model, some socialite who actually wants this?”
“Because they’d fall in love,” he says flatly. “And that would complicate things.”
I stop. “And you think I wouldn’t?”
“No,” he says. “I think you’re careful with your heart.”
I turn away, staring back out at the city outside the window.
“And what’s in it for me?” I ask quietly.
Sean joins me at the window, close but not touching.
“Your reputation is repaired, you have security, someone that actually respects you,” he pauses. “And leverage.”
That word sinks in.
I think of Monica’s smug smile, of Enzo’s embarrassed face.
Leverage.
I swallow. “We’d have rules,” I say.
“That’s if I even consider this.”
He nods. “Of course.”
“No romance or love,” I say. “No pretending in private.”
“Agreed.”
“No controlling my life.”
“I don’t control people,” he says coolly. “I negotiate with them.”
I glance at him. “And fidelity?”
His gaze sharpens. “Absolutely, from both of us.”
That surprises me.
“And if I say no?” I ask.
Sean meets my eyes. “Then I walk you back downstairs, publicly apologize for the misunderstanding, and your humiliation becomes tomorrow’s headline.”
There it is.
The truth.
I close my eyes.
I think of the ring on Monica’s finger. Of how small I’ve made myself for years. Of how tired I am of being overlooked.
When I open my eyes, my voice is steady.
“I want my own lawyer,” I say. “I want everything in writing. And I want the right to walk away if you break the contract.”
Sean smiled.
“Welcome to the family,” he says.
My heart pounded in my chest.
I don’t know what I’ve just agreed to.
But for the first time in a long time, I’m not shrinking myself.
I’m choosing my life.
- Writer
