A Choice of Our Own

The contract

.

"A marriage contract?"

I stared at Alessandro like he'd just suggested we take a trip to the moon. Then I laughed. Louder this time. The kind of laugh that came from somewhere deep in my chest, desperate and unhinged.

"I'm sorry." I wiped at my eyes. "I genuinely thought you were serious."

Alessandro didn't blink. That smile stayed glued to his face, frozen in place like it had been painted on.

My laughter died.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Wait." I shook my head. "You are serious."

"Very."

I bent down and picked up the envelope. My hands were trembling. I didn't want them to be, but they were. Inside, I found a thick stack of papers. Legal jargon. Fine print. The kind of document designed to make your eyes glaze over.

At the very top, attached like a price tag on a luxury item: €500,000.

My heart stopped. Then it didn't just race it sprinted. Five hundred thousand euros. Enough for Luca's surgery. Enough to wipe out every debt I'd been drowning in. Enough to finally, finally breathe again.

My fingers tightened around the papers.

"No."

The word came out before my brain caught up.

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"No." I shoved the contract back toward him like it was on fire. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yes." I crossed my arms, defensive. "I don't know your boss. I've never met your boss. I am not marrying a stranger."

Alessandro nodded. Slow. Thoughtful. Like he was considering my argument and finding it lacking.

"Understood."

Relief washed through me. Good. The conversation was over.

Then he reached into his briefcase and pulled out another envelope.

My stomach dropped. "What now?"

"This contains your brother's medical records."

"What?" The word came out sharp. "You did what?"

"We conducted a background investigation." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. "The surgery must happen within six weeks."

I felt the colour drain from my face. "How do you know that?"

"The same way we know your father died three years ago." Pause. "The same way we know you've worked three jobs while attending medical school." Pause. "The same way we know you've been rejected by seven banks."

The world shrank around me. Suddenly, I was very aware of how exposed I was. How much this stranger knew about me. Things nobody should know. Things I'd never told anyone.

Alessandro's voice stayed calm, measured. "Mr. De Luca is not a man who makes important decisions without research."

I swallowed. For the first time, this didn't feel ridiculous anymore. It felt dangerous. Like I'd wandered into a room I wasn't supposed to be in.

"What does he want from me?"

"A wife."

"No."

"A temporary wife."

"No."

"One year."

"No."

Alessandro sighed. "You haven't even heard the conditions."

"I don't care."

"The compensation is negotiable."

I hesitated. Just a fraction of a second. But he noticed. Of course, he noticed. People like him probably noticed everything.

"Mr. De Luca is prepared to cover all medical expenses." My heart skipped. "He will pay your debts." Another skip. "He will provide housing." Stop. "He will ensure your brother receives treatment from the best specialists available."

I looked away. Because for one horrible, shameful second, I was tempted. And I hated myself for it.

"What does he get in return?"

Alessandro's expression shifted. Barely. But enough for me to catch it. "He requires a wife for public appearances."

"Why?"

"There are business reasons."

I narrowed my eyes. That answer was suspiciously vague. "What business reasons?"

"I'm not authorized to discuss that."

Of course not.

I looked down at the contract again. Five hundred thousand euros. One signature. One year. One fake marriage.

It sounded simple. Too simple. Life was never that simple. There was always a catch. Always.

"What if I refuse?"

Alessandro studied me for a long moment. Then he reached into his pocket and handed me a black business card. Sleek. Minimalist. A phone number in silver lettering.

"If you refuse, nothing happens."

I blinked. "What?"

"The choice is entirely yours."

That surprised me. No pressure. No threats. No manipulation. Just a decision.

Alessandro stepped back. "You have forty-eight hours."

I stared at him. "And if I say yes?"

For the first time, his smile changed. Became almost amused. "Then you will meet Damiano De Luca."

A black car pulled up beside us. The driver got out and opened the door. Alessandro slid inside.

Before the door closed, he paused. "Oh."

I looked up.

"There is one more thing."

"What?"

His expression turned serious. Genuinely serious. "Mr. De Luca specifically requested you."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

He held my gaze. And then he said something I wasn't prepared for.

"He has been looking for you for five years."

The car door clicked shut.

Before I could ask another question before I could even process what those words meant, the vehicle disappeared into traffic.

I stood there alone on the pavement, holding a contract in one hand and a black business card in the other. My mind was spinning.

Five years.

He'd been looking for me for five years.

Why?

What could I possibly have to do with Damiano De Luca?

And why did it feel like I'd just opened a door i couldn't close?