Chapter Two: The Contract
648 Words
The interior of the Rolls-Royce Phantom was nothing like anything Zara Adams had ever seen. Soft leather seats, gold-accented door handles, a subtle scent of expensive cologne, and silence so heavy it made her heart pound in her chest.
She sat rigidly beside Adrian King, her soaked scarf clutched tightly in her lap. Her mind raced with questions, but fear glued her tongue.
Adrian tapped a button, and the car pulled smoothly away from the roadside. Neither of them spoke as the city lights flickered through the windows.
Zara snuck a glance at him. Even in the dim light, his features were flawless. But there was something about his eyes — cold, sharp, and unreadable.
Finally, he spoke. “You’re doing this for the money, right?”
Zara straightened. “Yes,” she answered honestly. “I need it. My mother’s sick and my brother—”
“I don’t need your life story,” Adrian cut her off. “I just need you to play your role without causing problems.”
Zara bit her lip, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Fifty million naira. Just six months.
He reached into a sleek folder on the seat between them and pulled out a document.
“This is the marriage contract,” Adrian said, handing it to her. “Read it.”
Zara’s hands trembled as she opened the folder. Her eyes skimmed over the bolded terms:
Marriage duration: Six months
Payment: ₦50 million naira
₦10 million upfront after the wedding
Remaining amount paid in installments every month
No romantic involvement or emotional attachments
No personal questions about Adrian’s past or business
Appear at business events, charity functions, and family dinners as Mrs. King
Zero tolerance for scandal or disobedience
Early termination by either party would result in a ₦20 million penalty
Zara’s throat tightened. It felt like selling her soul.
“What happens after six months?” she asked softly.
Adrian’s gaze didn’t waver. “We divorce. Quietly. You walk away with your money and a new life. I go back to mine.”
Zara hesitated. “And your ex-fiancée?”
“She made her choice,” he said, his voice hardening. “You’re just a substitute, nothing more.”
The words stung, but Zara reminded herself — this wasn’t about love. It was about survival.
She took a deep breath and picked up the pen he offered.
Her hand hovered over the paper for a moment.
Fifty million naira.
She thought of her mother lying weakly in that hospital bed. Of Tobe crying when she couldn’t pay his school fees. Of the nights they went hungry.
She signed her name.
Adrian’s face remained unreadable as he took the contract. He reached into a small box on the side and pulled out a sparkling diamond ring.
“Put it on,” he ordered.
Zara slid the cool band onto her finger, her heart pounding.
Adrian glanced at his phone as a message flashed across the screen:
“The press is waiting outside the chapel. Don’t be late.”
He turned to her.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“From this moment on, whatever happens between us — you will never, under any circumstance, disobey me.”
Zara’s stomach twisted, but she nodded.
“Good,” Adrian said coldly. He reached for the car door as it slowed to a stop outside a small, elegantly lit chapel.
The rain still fell steadily.
Adrian looked at her one last time.
“Let’s get this over with.”
And without another word, he stepped out into the storm.
Zara drew a shaky breath, staring at her reflection in the car window. The girl looking back was no longer just a broke waitress. She was about to become Mrs. Adrian King.
Whether she liked it or not.
[To Be Continued…]
- Writer
