Chapter Two:The Offer
1198 Words
Liora did not sit down while she was on the call.
She stood near the window, one hand pressed lightly against the curtain as she stared at the building across the street.
A single light flickered on and off in one of the apartments opposite hers. She memorized it without thinking, the way she always memorized things when she felt watched.
“I don’t know you,” she said into the phone.
The man on the other end did not rush to answer. She could hear his breathing, slow and steady, like someone who had all the time in the world.
“That’s true,” he said. “But I know you.”
Her jaw tightened. She shifted the phone slightly, making sure the call was on speaker while her other hand moved to her bag on the chair. She unzipped it halfway, fingers brushing the edge of the documents inside.
“If this is a threat,” she said, “you’re doing a poor job.”
“It’s not a threat,” the man replied. “It’s an offer.”
Liora exhaled through her nose. Offers always came dressed as kindness. She had learned that the hard way.
“You called the wrong person,” she said.
“No,” he said again, just as calm as before. “You left your apartment at 2:17 this morning. You took the fire escape. You boarded two buses before sunrise and resigned from your job before noon.”
Her fingers stilled.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. The light across the street stayed on.
“What do you want?” she asked.
On the other end of the city, Cassian Blackwood leaned back in his chair, phone pressed to his ear as he watched the skyline darken beyond the glass walls of his office. He did not smile, but something in his posture eased.
“I want to make you a legal offer,” he said. “One that gives you protection, money, and distance from whatever keeps knocking on your door at night.”
Liora turned her back to the window.
“You don’t get to say things like that,” she said quietly.
“I already did.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Liora let it. People who spoke too quickly gave away their fear. She had learned to wait.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
Cassian stood and walked toward the window, his reflection staring back at him in the glass.
“You made yourself hard to find,” he said. “But not impossible.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”
Her lips pressed together. She hated half-answers. They were traps.
“I’m hanging up,” she said.
“You can,” Cassian replied. “But you’ll move again tomorrow. And the day after that. And eventually, someone will stop knocking.”
Her grip tightened on the phone.
“You don’t know that,” she said.
Cassian’s voice dropped slightly. “I do.”
She swallowed.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
“Say it,” she finally said. “Whatever it is you’re offering. Say it clearly.”
Cassian returned to his desk and sat, fingers resting against the smooth surface.
“A contract marriage,” he said.
The words landed heavily, even through the phone.
Liora laughed once, sharp and humorless.
“You’re insane.”
“I’m practical.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” he said. “You don’t stay anywhere long. You don’t attach. You don’t leave traces. And you need a reason to disappear that no one questions.”
Her throat tightened.
“And you,” she said slowly, “need what?”
Cassian didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was flat.
“Control.”
Liora closed her eyes.
A memory flickered through her mind, unwanted and sharp, but she pushed it away. She had learned not to look backward for too long.
“How much?” she asked.
Cassian’s brow lifted slightly.
“That’s your first question?”
“Yes.”
“Ten million,” he said. “Paid upfront. Legally clean.”
Her breath caught despite herself.
“That’s not realistic,” she said.
“It is for me.”
She leaned against the wall, phone pressed to her ear. Ten million could buy distance. It could buy silence. It could buy time.
“Marriage comes with expectations,” she said carefully. “I won’t play house.”
“You won’t have to,” Cassian replied. “Public appearances only. Private lives stay separate.”
“And love?” she asked, her voice neutral.
Cassian almost smiled.
“Not required.”
She nodded to herself.
“How long?” she asked.
“One year,” he said. “With an option to extend.”
“And divorce?”
“Guaranteed.”
Liora stared at the floor. The deal was too clean. Too neat.
“There’s always a catch,” she said.
“Yes,” Cassian agreed. “You must remain visible.”
Her head snapped up.
“That defeats the purpose.”
“No,” he said. “It protects you. No one hunts what belongs to Blackwood.”
The name settled heavily in her chest.
Blackwood.
She had heard it before. Everyone had.
“You’re Cassian Blackwood,” she said.
“Yes.”
Her silence stretched long enough that he thought she might hang up after all.
“You should know,” she said slowly, “I don’t sign anything I don’t write.”
Cassian leaned forward, interest sharp in his eyes.
“Good,” he said. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“And there will be clauses,” she continued. “Non-negotiable ones.”
“Send them,” he replied. “My lawyers will review.”
“No,” she corrected. “You will.”
Another pause.
Cassian smiled this time.
“Very well.”
Liora straightened.
“One more thing,” she said. “If I say yes, this stays a contract. Nothing more.”
Cassian’s gaze drifted back to the city.
“Agreed.”
She took a deep breath.
“Then send the papers,” she said. “I’ll look at them.”
Cassian’s voice softened just slightly. “I’ll have my assistant contact you in the morning.”
“No assistants,” Liora said. “You deal with me directly.”
A long pause followed.
“Fine,” he said, and the call ended.
Liora lowered the phone slowly and stared at it as if it might ring again. Her apartment felt too quiet now, too still.
She crossed the room, pulled the curtains shut, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Ten milli
on.
A year.
A name powerful enough to stop doors from being knocked on.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn’t a call.
It was an email.
Subject: Marriage Contract - Draft One.
Liora opened it.
Her eyes scanned the pages quickly, efficiently.
Then she reached for her pen.
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