signed in Silence
841 Words
Eva sat on the edge of her twin-sized bed, the glow from her laptop casting flickering shadows on the cracked wall. Her breath hitched as she opened the email that had arrived just an hour after her strange, surreal meeting with Andre Lancaster.
Subject: Marriage Contract — Lancaster Holdings
With trembling fingers, she clicked on the PDF file. Ten pages of emotionless legal jargon opened before her—clauses about cohabitation, a strict one-year term, public appearances, and a detailed nondisclosure agreement. Everything felt cold, detached. There was even a list of rules — no intimacy required, no emotional entanglement, no scandal, no secrets.
And there it was, staring back at her in sleek, electronic ink.
Andre Lancaster’s signature.
Her own name hovered above a blank line at the bottom. All she had to do was sign.
Her eyes burned as she stared at it. Was she really going to do this? Marry a man she barely knew—one who looked at her like she was nothing but a tool?
A notification popped up on her screen. A text from the hospital.
Reminder: Medication refill pending. Outstanding balance: $4,280.
Eva’s hand shook as she reached for the pen on her desk. Her mother’s fragile voice echoed in her mind, reminding her to be brave, to hold on, to survive.
She signed.
The following morning, a black Bentley pulled up in front of her apartment like it didn’t belong anywhere near the cracked sidewalks and faded paint of her neighborhood. The driver, stiff and silent in a black suit, took her luggage without a word.
When she stepped into the back seat, Andre was already there.
“You’re on time,” he said, not looking up from his phone.
“I signed the contract,” Eva replied quietly, adjusting her seatbelt.
“I know.”
She turned her gaze to the window, watching the city blur past. He hadn’t asked if she slept well. He hadn’t asked if she was nervous. In fact, he hadn’t asked anything at all.
From his pocket, Andre pulled a black envelope and handed it to her.
“Inside, you’ll find your new ID, a debit card with a monthly allowance, and an access pass to Lancaster Tower. Your legal name change will be processed this week.”
She opened the envelope carefully. Everything was real—realer than it had felt on screen. Her name was already listed on the ID as Eva Lancaster.
“You really thought of everything,” she muttered.
Andre didn’t respond. His focus remained on his phone until he finally spoke, voice calm but clipped. “You’ll be living with me. You’ll attend functions when needed. Otherwise, I expect space and privacy.”
She turned to look at him. “Why me, really?”
His gaze flicked to hers, sharp and cold. “Because I need someone who won’t fall in love with me.”
Her breath caught at the arrogance in his tone. He hadn’t said it like a concern — he said it like a fact.
The elevator to Andre’s penthouse opened with a soft chime, revealing a space that looked like it belonged in a dream. Sleek marble floors gleamed under recessed lighting. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along the far wall, offering a panoramic view of the glittering skyline. The furniture was all muted elegance — sharp edges, soft greys, and cold metals. Expensive. Modern. Unwelcoming.
Eva followed him down a wide hallway to a large guest suite.
“This will be your room,” he said, pushing open the door.
The space was bigger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed, a vanity, a walk-in closet, a private bathroom. All of it spotless. All of it… lifeless.
“You’ll have everything you need here. Clothes will be delivered later today. Dinner is at seven. Attendance is optional unless I say otherwise.”
Eva stepped inside slowly, her fingers brushing the edge of the soft comforter.
“And you?” she asked, glancing back at him. “What do you want out of this marriage?”
He tilted his head slightly, regarding her with that unreadable gaze. “Control. Stability. Peace.”
“You think marrying a stranger will bring you peace?”
“I think not caring about my wife will.”
The words landed like a slap, but she kept her face still.
Andre turned to leave but paused at the doorway.
“There will be a press release in five days. Until then, no one can know.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He disappeared down the hall, the echo of his footsteps fading into silence.
Left alone, Eva sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Everything about this place sparkled — except her.
She didn’t belong here. Not in this world, not in this cold penthouse, not in this contract.
Not in Andre Lancaster’s life.
And yet, here she was — the wife of a man who promised nothing and expected even less.
And it had only just begun.
- Writer
