Until the contract ends.

The contract

Elena Kyarshik sat across from Adrian Dadik because standing there had begun to feel like surrender.

He placed the contract on the table.

"Read it."

She pulled the document toward her.

The first page carried Adrian Dadik's name at the top and a date beneath it. Elena read the opening paragraph twice.

"Marriage?"

"One year."

She looked up.

"You want a one-year marriage."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I need a wife."

Elena lowered her gaze to the page again.

The contract described their arrangement in cold legal language. She would become Adrian Dadik's wife for twelve months. During that period, she would accompany him to company functions and appear beside him when his public position required it.

She turned the page.

"Public appearances."

"Yes."

"Press events."

"When necessary."

"Family functions."

"Yes."

Elena looked at him.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do at these events?"

"Be my wife."

"That's vague."

"You'll learn what is expected."

She gave a dry laugh.

"I've never been a billionaire's wife before."

"Neither have I."

The corner of her mouth twitched before she stopped it.

Adrian continued as though she hadn't reacted.

"In public, we appear married. In private, we remain separate."

"Separate bedrooms?"

"Yes."

"Separate finances?"

"Yes."

"No interference with my personal life?"

"Within reasonable limits."

Elena tapped the page.

"Define reasonable."

"Your brother remains your responsibility. I won't control your relationship with him."

"Good."

She continued reading.

The next section covered medical expenses.

Elena stopped.

"Ethan Kyarshik."

"Yes."

"You'll pay for his surgery."

"Yes."

"Everything?"

"All medical costs related to the procedure."

She read the clause again.

"Hospital fees?"

"Covered."

"Medication?"

"Covered."

"Follow-up treatment?"

"Covered."

"Until the doctors clear him?"

"Yes."

Elena placed the contract on the table.

"You don't even know him."

"I don't need to."

"He isn't a business expense."

"I know."

"Then why are you willing to pay?"

"Because it is part of the arrangement."

She watched him.

There was no sympathy in his expression.

No attempt to make himself look generous.

He spoke as though he were approving a company budget.

"How much?"

"For the surgery?"

"Yes."

"The hospital will receive whatever it requires."

Elena shook her head.

"That's not what I asked."

"The amount is not your concern."

"It becomes my concern when you're offering to pay it."

"Then consider it covered."

She looked down again.

The contract had more pages than she expected.

She turned one.

A residence clause.

"You expect me to move into your house."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"A married couple living separately creates questions."

"People don't have to know where I sleep."

"They'll know."

"How?"

"Because the press will investigate."

Elena rubbed her forehead.

"This is insane."

"It's practical."

"You keep calling everything practical."

"Because it is."

She read another section.

"Confidentiality."

"Yes."

"I can't discuss the arrangement."

"No."

"Not with journalists."

"No."

"Not with your employees."

"No."

"Not with your family."

"Especially not my family."

Elena looked up.

"Why?"

"They don't need to know the marriage is contractual."

She studied his face.

"So everyone thinks this is real."

"That's the point."

"And what happens when they ask how we met?"

"We'll agree on a story."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

She stared at the contract.

Adrian had thought about everything.

That bothered her more than the money.

"Why me?"

He leaned back.

"You need money."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It does."

"No. There are thousands of women who would marry you for a year."

"I don't want thousands."

"Then why me?"

He was quiet for several seconds.

"You were in the building that night."

Elena's fingers stopped moving.

"The executive floor?"

"Yes."

"You think I know something."

"I know you heard something."

Her throat tightened.

She kept her voice level.

"I told you I don't know what you're talking about."

"I didn't say you knew everything."

"Then why bring that into this?"

"Because I need someone I can control."

Elena stared at him.

He didn't soften the statement.

"You need money badly enough to behave," he said. "And you're smart enough not to fall in love with me."

The words struck harder than she expected.

Elena closed the contract.

"You really are arrogant."

"I'm honest."

"No. You're arrogant."

"You asked why."

"And you answered by insulting me."

"I answered directly."

She stood.

Adrian didn't move.

"You think because my brother needs surgery, I'll agree to anything."

"No."

"You think I'm desperate."

"You are."

Elena's chair scraped against the floor.

She hated that he was right.

She hated even more that he had built the entire proposal around that fact.

She reached for her handbag.

Adrian looked at the contract.

"You haven't finished reading."

"I've read enough."

"You haven't read the compensation clause."

"I don't care."

"You should."

Elena stopped.

"How much?"

"One hundred thousand dollars."

She turned.

"Excuse me?"

"$100,000."

The number sat between them.

Elena stared at him.

"You're paying me?"

"Yes."

"For being your wife?"

"For fulfilling the terms of the agreement."

"For one year?"

"Yes."

She looked at the contract again.

One hundred thousand dollars.

Ethan's surgery.

A home.

Medical treatment.

All of it in exchange for twelve months.

The offer made her mind race through numbers she had tried not to calculate.

The hospital bill.

Rent.

Ethan's medication.

The debt she had already accumulated.

Her bank balance.

$23.48.

She picked up the contract again.

"One hundred thousand dollars."

"Upfront."

Her head lifted.

"All of it?"

"Once the contract is signed."

"And Ethan's medical expenses are separate?"

"Yes."

She looked at him.

"You're serious."

"I don't waste time."

Elena lowered herself back into the chair.

She read the compensation clause.

The amount was written clearly.

$100,000.

No hidden conversion.

No vague promise.

One hundred thousand dollars.

Her fingers rested on the page.

She pictured Ethan sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, trying to convince her he wasn't afraid.

She remembered the way he had asked whether she had eaten.

He had been the one waiting for surgery.

Yet he still worried about her.

Elena shut her eyes for a second.

She opened them again.

"Does the money come with conditions?"

"Only those written in the contract."

"Nothing outside it?"

"No."

"If I sign, you can't demand more later."

"Correct."

"If I refuse something that isn't written here, you can't punish me for it."

"Correct."

"If you want me to attend an event, it has to fall under the agreement."

"Yes."

She looked at the document.

At least the man was putting his rules on paper.

That mattered.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Since I learned about your brother's surgery."

"When did you learn?"

"Yesterday."

Elena stared.

"You investigated me in less than two days."

"I had people working through the night."

She looked toward the windows.

The city glittered far below.

She had spent years believing powerful people lived in another world.

Now one of them was offering to buy twelve months of her life.

"Do you expect affection?"

"No."

"Kissing?"

"Only when necessary for appearances."

"s*x?"

"No."

Elena looked at him sharply.

Adrian's expression remained unchanged.

"The contract contains no obligation of physical intimacy."

She relaxed slightly.

"Good."

"Your consent remains required."

"Good."

"You'll have your own room."

"Good."

"You'll have access to the house."

"Except?"

"The east study."

Elena frowned.

"Why?"

"Private family records."

"Fine."

She returned to the contract.

The more she read, the less it looked like a marriage.

It looked like employment with a ring.

That should have made refusing easier.

It didn't.

"Why don't you simply hire an actress?"

"Because an actress would know how to perform."

Elena looked up.

"And I don't?"

"You know how to survive."

She wasn't sure whether that was an insult.

Adrian continued.

"You don't seek attention. You don't spend beyond your means. You don't have a public history that would create unnecessary problems."

"You investigated my entire life."

"Yes."

"And decided I'm suitable."

"Yes."

She gave him a cold look.

"You make marriage sound like hiring a cleaner."

His expression barely changed.

"It's an arrangement."

"Exactly."

Elena pushed the contract away.

"I can't do it."

Adrian didn't argue.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to marry you."

"You don't have to want it."

"That's easy for you to say."

"You're allowed to refuse."

She looked at him.

"Then why are we still sitting here?"

"Because your brother needs surgery."

The answer silenced her.

She hated the simplicity of it.

Adrian had not threatened Ethan.

He didn't need to.

The hospital had already done the work for him.

Elena gathered the pages.

"I need to leave."

"Take the contract."

She stopped.

"Why?"

"Read it properly before you reject it."

"I've already rejected it."

"Tonight."

She stared at him.

"You're very confident."

"I know what the alternative looks like."

Elena slid the contract into her handbag.

She hated herself for taking it.

She hated him for knowing she would.

She walked toward the elevator.

"Elena."

She stopped.

It was the first time he had used her first name.

She turned.

"Your brother needs a decision soon."

"I know."

"I'll keep the offer open for forty-eight hours."

"Then I'll answer."

Adrian nodded.

She pressed the elevator button.

The doors opened.

Elena stepped inside.

Before they closed, she looked back at him.

"Don't mistake desperation for consent."

"I won't."

The doors shut.

Elena descended alone.

She pulled the contract from her bag before the elevator reached the lobby.

She read the first page again.

One-year marriage.

Medical expenses paid.

$100,000 upfront.

She turned to the next page.

Separate rooms.

Public appearances.

Private boundaries.

Everything had been reduced to clauses and signatures.

The elevator reached the ground floor.

Elena folded the contract once.

Then again.

She walked through the lobby and pushed open the glass doors.

A taxi waited across the street.

She crossed toward it.

The driver lowered his window.

"Where to?"

"St. Mary's Hospital."

She climbed into the back seat.

The taxi pulled away.

Elena looked at the folded contract in her lap.

She could throw it away.

She could refuse Adrian.

She could find another way.

Her phone vibrated.

A message from Ethan appeared on the screen.

You coming tomorrow?

Elena stared at the words.

She typed, Of course.

Then she deleted it.

She typed again.

I'll be there.

She sent it.

The taxi continued toward the hospital.

Elena pressed the contract against her thigh.

She had said no.

She still meant it.

But she had also taken the paper with her.

Back in the penthouse, Adrian stood beside the table where she had left the chair crooked.

He looked at the second copy of the contract.

Elena had refused.

He expected that.

What mattered was that she had taken the first copy with her.

She would read it again.

Then she would look at Ethan.

Then she would calculate what refusal would cost.

Adrian picked up his phone.

"Cancel the other appointments tomorrow morning."

His assistant asked why.

"Keep the contract open."

He ended the call.

Elena Kyarshik had walked out without signing.

She had not walked away from the offer.

That was enough.