Chapter2
1575 Words
Angela didn't sleep.
She spent the night beside her grandfather with Ashton's contract on her lap and the anonymous messages open on her phone.
She had read the contract six times.
The terms remained the same.
Marriage: Twelve months.
Public appearances: Required.
Residence: Ashton's home.
Financial support: Full medical care for John Caldwell.
Romantic obligations: Not required.
Divorce: Permitted after one year.
It was absurd.
It was humiliating.
And it was the only offer that could save her grandfather without destroying her future.
But the message wouldn't leave her mind.
ASK YOUR GRANDFATHER WHAT HAPPENED TWENTY YEARS AGO.
Angela looked at the sleeping man beside her.
“Grandpa?”
His eyes remained closed.
“What's going on?”
A voice came from the doorway.
“Have you decided?”
Angela turned.
Ashton.
She immediately stood.
“Do you always sneak into hospital rooms?”
“Do you always ask questions you already know the answers to?”
Angela folded her arms.
“Why did you choose me?”
“Because I need you.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only one you're getting tonight.”
She stepped closer.
“Someone just warned me not to marry you.”
Ashton went completely still.
Angela noticed.
“Interesting.”
“Who?”
“So you do care.”
“Who sent the message?”
“I asked you a question first.”
“Angela.”
She smiled without humor.
“You're not the only one who can keep secrets.”
Ashton stared at her.
Then he said quietly, “You have no idea what you're involving yourself in.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the moment you know the truth, you become part of it.”
Angela's smile vanished.
“What truth?”
Ashton didn't answer.
Her phone rang.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
She answered immediately.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Who is this?”
A man's voice whispered.
“Don't trust the Walters.”
The call ended.
Angela slowly lowered the phone.
Ashton had heard enough.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Angela.”
“Who is trying to warn me?”
“I don't know.”
“Liar.”
His jaw tightened.
She stared at him.
“Why are you so desperate to marry me?”
Ashton stepped closer.
“Because I need a wife.”
“Why?”
“Because my grandfather's will requires it.”
Angela blinked.
That was the first real answer he'd given her.
“What?”
“My grandfather's estate and controlling shares in Walter Industries are tied to a condition. I must be married before the board meeting at the end of the month.”
“So this is about money.”
“Power.”
“That's worse.”
“Perhaps.”
“Then marry someone else.”
“I don't want someone else.”
The words caught her off guard.
Ashton seemed to realize what he'd said.
His expression hardened.
Angela recovered.
“Why not?”
“Because I chose you.”
“Again, that's not an explanation.”
“No. It's a decision.”
She hated how calm he was.
She hated even more that some part of her wanted to know why.
“Fine,” she said. “I have conditions.”
Ashton raised an eyebrow.
“Go on.”
“I finish university.”
“Yes.”
“My grandfather receives treatment whether we stay married or not.”
“Yes.”
“I keep my own bank account.”
“Yes.”
“I can see my friends.”
“Yes.”
“I can leave the house whenever I want.”
“Yes.”
“And you don't touch me unless I agree.”
Something changed in his eyes.
“Agreed.”
Angela paused.
“And I want to know what happened twenty years ago.”
His expression immediately closed.
“No.”
“Then no marriage.”
“That's not your condition to set.”
“Then neither is the contract.”
Silence.
Ashton studied her.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
Not warmly.
Almost like he'd just discovered something.
“You negotiate like a Walter.”
Angela's stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't call me that.”
He turned away.
“I'll have the final contract delivered.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“I'll come to your office.”
“Why?”
“Because if I'm going to marry a billionaire, I want to see exactly what I'm getting into.”
For the first time, Ashton looked amused.
“Tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
***
Walter Industries was everything Angela expected a billionaire's company to be.
Glass.
Steel.
Security.
People who looked like they had never worried about rent.
Angela stepped into the lobby in jeans and a simple blouse.
Every head seemed to turn.
She ignored them.
At the reception desk, she gave her name.
The receptionist's smile faltered.
“Miss Caldwell?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Walter is expecting you.”
“Of course he is.”
The elevator carried her to the top floor.
As the doors opened, Angela stepped out.
Ashton stood behind his desk.
He looked at her.
Then at the coffee in her hand.
“You're late.”
“By three minutes.”
“You're late.”
“Then fire me.”
“This isn't a job.”
“Good. I hate your management style.”
Something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.
Angela stopped.
“Was that a smile?”
“No.”
“Shame.”
Ashton placed the contract on the desk.
Angela sat.
She read every page.
Then stopped.
“This wasn't in the version I read last night.”
Ashton looked up.
“What?”
“This clause.”
She pointed.
“Public displays of affection.”
His expression remained calm.
“It's necessary.”
“You said romantic obligations weren't required.”
“They aren't.”
“Then why is this here?”
“Because we're expected to look like a real couple.”
Angela stared at him.
“So if someone is watching—”
“They probably are.”
The words landed differently.
“Who?”
Ashton didn't answer.
Angela looked around the office.
“You know, for a man who supposedly needs a fake wife, you seem to have a lot of people interested in your personal life.”
“Sign.”
She looked back at the contract.
Then at him.
“Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap?”
“Because you are.”
Angela's pen stopped.
Ashton didn't blink.
Then he added, “The question is whether the trap is meant for you.”
Her pulse quickened.
Before she could ask, the door opened.
A man walked in.
Younger.
Easier.
Smiling.
Until he saw Angela.
The smile disappeared.
His eyes locked on her face.
Then on the contract.
Then back to her.
“No.”
Ashton stood.
“Aiden.”
Aiden ignored him.
“Who is she?”
“Ashton Walter's future wife,” Angela said.
Aiden went pale.
Ashton’s expression hardened.
“Leave.”
Aiden laughed once.
“You're marrying her?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
Angela's stomach tightened.
“Know what?”
Aiden stared at her.
Something in his expression frightened her.
Not hatred.
Recognition.
“Have we met before?”
Angela frowned.
“No.”
Aiden stepped closer.
“Are you sure?”
Ashton moved between them.
“Aiden.”
The warning in his voice was unmistakable.
Aiden looked at his brother.
Then at Angela.
“Congratulations.”
He turned to leave.
Angela called after him.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“Why did you look at me like that?”
Aiden's face changed.
For a second, he looked like he wanted to tell her everything.
Instead, he said:
“Ask your grandfather why he changed his name.”
Then he left.
Angela stood frozen.
Ashton closed the door.
“What did he mean?”
“Nothing.”
“That's the third time someone has said something about my grandfather.”
“Angela.”
She turned on him.
“No. You don't get to do that anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel crazy because you're hiding things.”
Ashton stepped closer.
“You're about to marry into a family you know nothing about.”
“Then tell me.”
“You're not ready.”
“For what?”
His eyes held hers.
“The truth about why I chose you.”
Angela's breath caught.
Before she could speak, Ashton took the contract.
“Your grandfather's surgery begins in an hour.”
He held out the pen.
Angela looked at him.
Then signed.
Ashton stared at her signature.
“You just sold yourself to a stranger.”
Angela took the contract from him.
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“I made a deal with one.”
Then she walked out.
Neither of them noticed Aiden standing at the end of the corridor.
He had heard everything.
He looked down at his phone.
A photograph had just been sent to him.
A photograph of a young woman.
A woman who looked exactly like Angela.
The message beneath it read:
SHE ISN'T WHO ASHTON THINKS SHE IS.
Aiden's expression darkened.
Then another message arrived.
FIND OUT WHAT JOHN CALDWELL DID.
- Writer
