Chapter 5: The Weight of the Deal
1855 Words
The final contract lay open before Saoirse, its crisp white pages stark against the polished mahogany desk. The weight of the moment settled over her like an invisible thread tightening around her ribs.
She held the pen loosely between her fingers, willing herself to focus on the text in front of her. The terms had been discussed, revised, and finalized, yet the moment felt unreal. Across from her, Richard sat with the same impassive expression he had worn since the beginning of this arrangement—calm, composed, as if this were just another business deal.
Because it was.
“Everything is in place, Miss Alba,” Amara confirmed, her smooth, professional tone cutting through the silence. “Once you sign, the agreement becomes binding.”
Saoirse inhaled deeply and met Richard’s gaze. It was unreadable—no, not unreadable, she corrected herself. Just controlled. He was a man who had learned to mask his thoughts well.
Her grip on the pen tightened as she lowered it to the paper. For Andrea. For her future.
She signed.
Richard reached for the contract and stacked the papers neatly, his fingers brushing hers in the process. It was barely a touch, fleeting and unintentional, but it sent an unexpected shiver through her.
A quiet hum of awareness passed between them.
Saoirse immediately withdrew her hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
If he had, he didn’t show it. He simply straightened, slipping the papers into a sleek folder before turning back to her.
"You'll move into the estate in three days," he said, his voice smooth, businesslike. “Be ready.”
His gaze flicked toward her, indecipherable yet filled with expectation. "In the meantime, handle whatever you need to. Resign from your job, say your goodbyes, and tie up any loose ends. I don’t want any complications once you’re there."
Saoirse simply nodded, her pulse steady, her mind repeating a silent reminder: This is just a deal. Nothing more. She held onto that thought as she stepped out of Amara's office, the weight of what she had just agreed to pressing down on her shoulders.
The next morning, Saoirse stepped into the familiar warmth of De Dios Tailoring & Alterations for the last time. The shop smelled of freshly pressed fabric and sewing thread, a comforting scent she had known for years. The steady hum of sewing machines filled the air, their rhythmic stitching blending with the occasional chatter of her coworkers. It felt normal, but today wasn’t a normal day. Today, she was saying goodbye.
Pete, the delivery man, spotted her first. “Oi, Saoirse! What’s this I hear about you leaving us?” His round face was full of curiosity as he wiped his hands on his apron. “You got yourself a better-paying gig, huh?”
Saoirse smiled, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Something like that.”
Ate Vi, Laura, and Gina, the three seamstresses she had worked alongside for years, paused their work to look up.
Mrs. De Dios, the shop’s owner, emerged from her office, her sharp gaze settling on Saoirse. “You’re really leaving?”
Saoirse exhaled and nodded. “I am, Mrs. De Dios. I—I got an opportunity that’s more stable. It’ll help with my family’s expenses.”
Ate Vi clicked her tongue. “You’re not running off to get married, are you?” she teased, causing a ripple of laughter in the room.
Saoirse stiffened but forced out a chuckle. “Of course not.”
Mrs. De Dios sighed but nodded in understanding. “You’ve been a good worker, Saoirse. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.”
Saoirse swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll miss this place.”
Pete clapped a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll do great wherever you’re headed. Just don’t forget us little people when you make it big, huh?”
She laughed, though the moment felt heavier than she expected. After a few more goodbyes and well-wishes, Saoirse walked out of the shop for the last time, leaving behind not just a job, but a part of herself.
Back at the apartment, Andrea was sitting on an old monoblock plastic chair, scrolling through her phone when Saoirse walked in. The younger girl immediately sat up. “So, it’s really happening, Ate,” she said, watching Saoirse carefully. “You’re moving in with him.”
Saoirse exhaled. “Yes. Just for a few days, to get settled. I’ll be back when I can.”
Andrea smirked. “This is so wild. One minute you’re sewing dresses, the next you’re moving into a billionaire’s mansion. If this were a K-drama, you’d be the lead.”
Saoirse rolled her eyes. “It’s not a K-drama, Andy.”
Andrea shrugged. “Still, you better text me. I need to know if they have, like, secret passages or some rich-people drama going on in there.”
Saoirse chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”
Andrea’s smirk faded slightly. “You’ll be okay, right?”
Saoirse hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Andrea studied her for a moment before sighing. “Okay. But if things get weird, I will fake a family emergency and drag you out of there.”
Saoirse laughed, pulling her sister into a quick hug. “Noted.”
She wanted to tell Andrea everything—to confess her nerves, to admit that beneath her composed exterior, uncertainty gnawed at her. But the words never came. Instead, she busied herself with packing, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she reminded herself once more: This is just a deal. Nothing more.
When the time came to leave, a gleaming black car was already waiting outside their apartment building. Richard hadn’t come himself. Instead, he had sent one of his drivers, a silent confirmation that this arrangement was nothing personal.
The ride to the estate was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound as the city streets blurred past her window. As they left the bustling metropolis behind, the roads stretched into winding lanes lined with towering acacia trees, their branches casting shifting shadows under the afternoon light. The car glided past high walls and security checkpoints, the unmistakable sign that they were nearing their destination.
The Demonteverde estate was just as imposing as she remembered. A sprawling mansion of glass and stone, surrounded by manicured gardens and tall wrought-iron gates that exuded old money and power. The gates swung open smoothly at their arrival, and the car slowed to a stop in the circular driveway.
Saoirse stepped out, gripping the handle of her suitcase tightly.
The front doors opened before she could even reach them, and Richard was there, waiting. “You’re here,” he said simply. His gaze swept over her, assessing. “Was the ride comfortable?”
“It was fine,” Saoirse replied, shifting her weight slightly.
“Good.” He turned, leading her inside. “I’ll have the staff take care of your things.”
Saoirse followed in silence, her footsteps light against the polished marble floors. The grandeur of the estate was no longer a surprise—she had seen it before—but today, it felt different. More final.
As they walked through the grand entrance hall, the weight of her decision settled deeper in her chest. This was her life now. For one year, she belonged here.
And yet, even as she reminded herself that this was all part of the deal, she couldn’t shake the feeling that stepping into this house meant stepping into something far more complicated than she had ever anticipated.
Richard’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I’ll arrange for Andrea’s transfer immediately,” he said, his tone back to its usual calm efficiency.
Saoirse glanced at him, surprised. He had mentioned Andrea’s transfer before, but she hadn’t expected him to bring it up the moment she arrived. There was no hesitation in his tone—just quiet resolve, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to take care of her sister’s future. But she knew better.
It was part of the contract. A business transaction wrapped in carefully worded promises. Richard wasn’t doing this out of kindness—he was fulfilling his end of the deal, just as she was expected to fulfill hers. And yet, knowing that didn’t stop the strange warmth from spreading in her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Richard merely nodded. Then, instead of calling for a housekeeper or one of his staff members, he turned to her suitcase and lifted it himself. “I’ll show you to your room,” he said.
Saoirse blinked. He could have easily ordered someone else to do it. In a house this massive, with staff trained to cater to his every whim, Richard Demonteverde didn’t need to carry her bag or personally walk her through the house. Yet, here he was—taking charge in a way that felt oddly intimate.
They ascended the grand staircase, the soft glow of the chandelier casting golden light over the marble floors. Saoirse could hear the faint click of her sandals as she followed beside him, the silence between them stretching—not awkward, but charged with something she couldn’t quite define.
They reached the second floor, where a long hallway stretched ahead, lined with ornate doors. Saoirse had no idea what lay behind them—guest suites, private quarters, or something else entirely. The sheer size of the estate made it feel more like a luxury hotel than a home.
Her pulse quickened when Richard stopped in front of a set of double doors. He pushed one open and stepped aside. “This will be your room. It’s adjacent to mine.”
Saoirse entered, her breath catching slightly. It was stunning—larger than any place she had ever lived in. A four-poster bed stood at the center, draped in soft ivory sheets, and floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to a view of the vast gardens below. The scent of fresh linen and vanilla lingered in the air, the warmth of the soft lighting making the space feel… strangely welcoming.
But it wasn’t just the grandeur that made her heart race. It was the fact that this room was right next to Richard’s. She turned back to him. “It’s… beautiful.” Richard set her suitcase down by the wardrobe and studied her for a beat too long. His gaze wasn’t cold like before—it held something softer, something...
“If you need anything, just tell me,” he said, his voice quieter now.
Saoirse swallowed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
His lips pressed together as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he gave a short nod. “Get some rest. It’s been a long day. I’ll have someone wake you for dinner.”
And then, before she could reply, he turned and walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of her new reality—one that suddenly felt far more dangerous to her heart than she had ever expected.
- Writer
