THE TERMS
1126 Words
Sophie went home and sat on her bed, hesitant to unseal the envelope, she kept thinking about it, what it might be, what the rules might be. What if she can't do it.
Every time she looked at it, she heard his voice:
"You become my wife for one year."
The audacity of it. The insanity. The temptation.
She hadn’t told her parents of their encounter talkless of the proposal.What would she say? "Hey, remember the guy I spilled coffee on? He wants to pay me to be his wife."
"Ridiculous", she said rolling her eye balls.
They’d either laugh or lock her in.
But still, the weight of their financial struggles loomed like a storm cloud. Dad barely left the bedroom. Mom had started selling off old jewelry online. They were drowning.
She glanced at the envelope again.
No romance. No mess. His words echoed like a vow.
She finally opened it.
Inside was a sleek document—terms typed in neat legalese. She didn’t understand everything, but some lines leapt off the page:
Duration: One year.
Living Arrangement: Shared residence. Separate rooms optional.
Public Appearances: Regular, as a married couple.
Termination Clause: No early exit without severe financial penalty.
Payment: $1 million. Paid upon signing of the contract. Additional monthly stipend for the duration of the contract.
Sophie sat down, head spinning.
A million dollars. Immediately.
Enough to pay off every debt. Enough to send her parents back home, comfortable. Enough to build a life.
She stared at the final line:
Sign only if you’re willing to become invisible in plain sight. If you're ready meet me here:
D27, 4 Donovan Tower
................
Two days after their meeting Sophie located herself to the address in the document.She stood outside the Donovan Tower, heart hammering.
Glass scraped the sky. Everything smelled like luxury and quiet power.
A man in a black suit greeted her. "Miss Lane?"
She nodded.
"Mr. Donovan is waiting upstairs. Follow me."
They ascended in a private elevator. No music. Just her thudding heart and the whisper of rising tension.
When the doors opened, Myers stood at the far end of a minimalist room, staring out at the city like it belonged to him.
He didn’t turn as she entered.
"You came," he said, voice calm.
"I read the contract."
"And?"
"I have some conditions."
He finally turned, eyes cool but curious. "Go on".
"I don’t sleep with strangers."
"I’m not asking you to." Myers said defensively .
"And I won’t pretend to love you."
"That would be unrealistic," he said, walking toward her. "We’re pretending to be married, not in love."
"I want a clear exit plan incase if I decide I can’t do it—"
"You walk. But you get nothing."
She folded her arms. "What if you break the agreement?"
"I don’t break promises."
His voice was clipped, final.
"You’ll move in within the week," he continued.
"We’ll attend public events together,you’ll have full freedom otherwise. All I require is presence, poise, and privacy."
"And if someone finds out?"
"Then we both lose."
The silence between them stretched, taut.
"Why me?" she asked again.
His jaw tightened. "Because you’re not dazzled. You weren’t supposed to talk back to me that day—and you did. You’re grounded, you’re desperate and you don’t want anything from me... yet."
She flinched at the last word.
He reached for a pen. "If you're ready, sign. If you're not, walk away."
Sophie hesitated, the weight of her family's hardship crashing down on her shoulders.She had to take the risk.
"I’ll need time to pack. And I’ll have to tell my parents something."
"Tell them it’s a job. One that pays well. Which is true."
She stepped forward and took the pen.
The paper felt heavier than it should.
As she signed her name—Sophie Lane—the finality of the ink settled into her bones.
Myers didn’t smile. He simply reached for the contract, folded it, and said, “The payment will be wired to your account within the hour. And you’ll receive a monthly stipend thereafter.”
She blinked. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he said. Then added, “You’ll have breakfast with my parents tomorrow.”
That made her pause. “Why?”
“They need to know you exist. It’s part of the act and it’s better to ease them in than blindside them.”
“I don’t do ‘rich family charming,’” she said, warily.
“You don’t have to charm anyone. Just show up, smile, and pretend you belong. I’ll do the rest.”
"Okay, I'll take my leave now"
"Wait"
"Anything else"? she asked in curiosity
"I forgot about the ring"
"Which ring"?
"It's for the contract, for it to seem real. They will think we are engaged to each other."
"What I'm I supposed to do with it after the contract"?
Myers smirks,
"Well lucky you, you have another fortune there"
"Hey, what are you taking me for? I'm not a poor brat chasing you after your wealth. Get it right."
"See?", he whispered to her ears
"That is why I chose you"........
.................
Back home, she stood at the threshold of their cramped apartment.
Her mother was hunched over the kitchen table, sorting through unpaid bills.
“I got a job,” Sophie said.
Her mom didn’t look up. “Where?”
“Somewhere upscale. Live-in. They’ll pay me well.”
Her dad, from the bedroom, called out weakly, “Can you send something by next week?”
“Yes,” she replied, voice small.
Her mom nodded. “Do what you have to. We’ll be fine.”
No questions. No concern. Just... acceptance.
She stared at them for a long moment.
“I won’t be back often,” she said quietly. “It’s full-time. Private. I’ll visit when I can.”
“Take care,” her mother murmured.
Sophie turned and walked out.
Outside, night had fallen. The city lights felt colder now.
She didn’t cry, she couldn’t afford to.
That night, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Her phone buzzed.
MYERS: Driver will pick you up at 8am tomorrow. Dress formally, remember my parents are expecting us. Act real.
Sophie stared at the message.
She typed back one word: Okay.
But what she meant was: This better be worth it........
Somewhere far away, Myers poured himself a glass of scotch.
He stared at her signature.
Then at her photo his assistant had pulled from her school files.
His mouth twitched. "You're going to turn this whole place upside down, aren't you?"
He leaned back in his chair and whispered to the empty room:
"Let’s see how well you play pretend."
To be continued...
- Writer
