The Billionaires Duty

Chapter three

The room smelled like expensive cologne and coffee with vintage polished portraits hanging around the walls. The willows had arrived early. They stood near the long table and talked about numbers and contracts. Laughter came and went in short outbursts. The butler moved quietly with a tray of drinks. Everything felt very formal and stiff.

Emily stood at the doorway for a second and watched them. She felt pressured and nervous about entering a room she knew nothing about. She smoothed her dress. She took a slow breath and stepped in.

“Good evening mom,” she said.

Her mother smiled and opened her arms. “Here she is my darling daughter. You look beautiful as always. Come, join everyone. We have been waiting for you”.

Richard Thompson nodded at her once. His face was unreadable. He gestured toward the Willows.

Henry Willow stepped forward first. His suit was perfect. His smile was practiced. “Emily,” he said, warm and smooth, “Good evening.”

Jason stood behind him. His hands were at his sides. His jaw was tight. He gave a small nod. Emily held his eyes for a moment. They were calm, but something was hiding there. It looked like guilt. Or fear.

“Shall we sit?” Richard said.

Chairs slid back. Everyone took their places. A small stack of papers rested near Henry’s elbow. He kept one hand on them like they might fly away if he let go. The butler poured wine into their cups. The first course came in white bowls. The steam of the food rose into the air. Emily lifted her spoon and only pretended to eat.

Henry Willow, Jason’s father, pressed a pen into Jason’s palm. “ Everything is set, all you have to do is sign."

Jason stared at the pen. His fingers closed around it. The room felt quieter. He signed where Henry pointed. His hand did not shake, but his eyes flickered once toward the far doorway, as if he needed air. At the last page, footsteps sounded in the hall. Emily walked in from the side entrance. She had needed a moment after greeting everyone. She needed a moment to breathe.

Henry slid the papers together at once. He lifted them and tucked them under his arm.

“Emily,” he said, his voice bright, as if nothing had happened. “We are proud to welcome you to our family.”

““Thank you,” she said. “I hope we can meet as people, not just names on contracts.”

Henry’s eyes paused on her face a moment too long. A question passed through them. Then he smiled as if he had missed the meaning. “Of course,” he said. “As people.”

Jason’s eyes flicked to her. Something like guilt moved in them. Emily sat opposite Jason. She kept her hands folded in her lap when she was not lifting her glass. She nodded when someone looked her way. She noticed the tension in his grip, the small scar near his knuckle, the weirdness in his mannerisms, the way he did not quite look at anyone for long.

“Emily,” Henry was eager to start a conversation with her. “Do you enjoy charity work?”

“I enjoy helping,” she said. “Titles and photos… not as much, and that I’m not used to.”

Henry smiled. “You will get used to photos.”

“I would rather get used to honesty,” she said quietly.

There was a small pause. Cutlery hitting their plates. Richard cleared his throat and changed the subject. The talk continued.

Dessert came in. It was a lemon tart. The crust broke neatly under the fork. Emily tasted nothing. Jason drank water and stared at the candle flame near his plate. His eyes looked far away.

A few hours later dinner ended, Emily stepped out of the dining area. She headed toward the kitchen for a glass of water. Turning to the corridor, she almost bumped into Jason entering the kitchen. For a second, they stood too close. The light above them flickered.

“I’m Emily,” she said, trying to be soft, dominant yet casual at the same time.

“I know who you are,” he said. His voice was low. Tired. “I’m Jason.”

A pause. Emily searched his face. “It’s obvious you don’t want this,” she said softly.

He swallowed. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

“I don’t want it either, but is there someone else?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, which told her everything she needed to know.

Emily nodded once. “Then let’s be honest. If we must go through with this, we do it with clear rules, privacy and respect for each other. Without anyone knowing our plans or how we are living our separate lives in this marriage”.

Jason looked surprised. Then something in him eased. “You’re not what I expected.”

“I get that a lot,” she pushed the kitchen door gently. As it began to swing, she added, “I won’t be your enemy, Jason. But I won’t be your wife either.”

The door closed between them. Jason stood there a moment, staring at the wood. He pressed his palm flat against it, then dropped his hand and exhaled.

Emily walks in the kitchen quietly.

That evening across the road, Madison waited in a black car outside Jason’s building. Rain dotted the windshield. She watched people go in and out, their lives moving fast and free. When Jason finally stepped out, she flashed her headlights once.

He hesitated, then crossed to her. He slid into the passenger seat. The air smelled like vanilla and smoke.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Jason said, his voice low.

“I hate this,” Madison said. “I hate that I’m begging to get attention from you, I hate that I’m going to watch you get married to that… that thing.”

Jason touched her cheek softly. “I’m trying to protect you. If my father thinks you’re a problem, he will crush you. He will make life hard for you. I know what he can do.” One last thing Jason said, “You can’t come for the wedding.”

Madison breaths heavily. “Then marry her and keep me? Is that what you want me to be?” Your side piece?

“No,” he said. “I want you to be safe.” He paused, fighting himself. “Give me until summer. After that, I’ll have leverage. I’ll move pieces. I’ll… I’ll find a way.”

Madison stared at him. “You have already found a way. And that way doesn’t lead to me.”

A sharp knock on the car window made them both jump. A paparazzi lens pressed into the glass like a giant eye. Another flash. Then another. We have been caught," Madison said.