Chapter 6: The Contract
467 Words
Lydia Harper turned up the air conditioning and hurried downstairs.
She curled up on the living room sofa.
Wide awake. Restless.
Past midnight—
Alexander Blackwood stirred.
His head throbbed.
Instinctively, he reached out—empty.
He frowned and looked down at himself. His clothes were still on. Neat. Untouched.
A breath of relief escaped him.
He pressed his fingers into his temples.
Damn. What did I drink last night…
Dragging himself out of bed, he headed downstairs.
And froze.
On the sofa—
Lydia lay quietly, bathed in the soft moonlight streaming through the windows.
Her skin looked almost translucent. Her long hair spread around her like ink in water.
Delicate. Dreamlike.
For a moment, it felt unreal.
But Alexander had seen too many beautiful women to be moved.
He looked away.
Then—
Click.
The main light snapped on. The room flooded with brightness.
He walked over and nudged her with his foot.
“Hey. Wake up.”
No response.
His voice sharpened.
“Stop sleeping. Are you seriously this clueless? There’s a bed upstairs. Why are you on the couch?”
Lydia stirred. Her lashes fluttered open slowly.
When she saw him—she sat up instantly.
Running a hand through her messy hair, she stretched and yawned.
Then asked calmly,
“Do you need something, Mr. Blackwood?”
His expression hardened.
“So you married me for money and status,” he said coldly.
“Don’t forget—you’re just a stand-in.”
“Don’t get any ideas about me. I’ll never love you.”
“When Nora comes back, we’re getting divorced.”
Lydia rolled her eyes.
“Okay. Anything else?”
Alexander pulled out a document and tossed it to her.
“A contract. Read it. If you don’t have a problem, sign.”
Lydia took it. Her eyes scanned the page quickly.
Agreement
Party A: Alexander Blackwood
Party B: Lydia Harper
Both parties maintain personal independence during the marriage. No interference. No betrayal.
In front of family, both must appear affectionate.
The marriage remains confidential. No public disclosure.
Separate rooms. No marital obligations.
Whenever Party A requests a divorce, Party B must comply unconditionally.
Lydia’s grip tightened.
A quiet, bitter smile tugged at her lips.
A one-sided contract. An escape clause—reserved only for him.
So this marriage—was never meant to last.
Even on their wedding night—he was already drawing the line.
She lowered her head. Her vision blurred. Her nose stung.
But she refused to cry. Not in front of him.
Her hand trembled slightly as she signed.
Then she held out the paper. Still not looking up.
Alexander took it. His eyes flicked over her signature.
Neat. Elegant.
For a split second—a faint smile crossed his lips.
Gone just as quickly.
- Writer
