Seducing My Ex's Billionaire Brother

Chapter 5

FREYA SINCLAIR

I should’ve known he wouldn’t agree without terms.

Rowan Carter wasn’t the kind of man who ever signed blank pages. He dealt in power, profit, and consequence. So when he said yes to my insane proposal, I knew something was coming.

But I didn’t expect… this.

He poured himself another glass of scotch, his movements slow, deliberate. The clink of the bottle against crystal sounded louder than it should have in the quiet lounge we’d moved to after the bar.

I sat across from him, legs crossed, spine straight ,pretending my heart wasn’t in my throat.

“Before we move forward,” Rowan said, his voice as calm as ever, “there’s one condition.”

He didn’t look at me when he said it. Just swirled his drink, the amber liquid catching the low golden light like fire in a cage.

“I want an heir.”

The words landed like a slap.

I blinked.

“You… what?” I was flabbergasted as I looked at him.

He finally looked up, eyes cool, unreadable. Like he was discussing the weather.

“If we’re going to marry,” he said, “I want a child. Within the first year.” he clarified and I could feel a bile rising up in my throat.

My mouth went dry.

I stared at him, stunned, as every carefully rehearsed line of seduction evaporated from my brain. All I could hear was the dull roar of panic between my ears.

“You want a baby?”

“I want my legacy secure. A name that continues,” he said simply. “You said you wanted marriage. I’m just telling you what mine comes with.” He sipped his drink and stared at me. “my parents were after me , forcing me to get married but I was not interested. That is until you came up with this stupid proposal.” He said while I felt my head splitting into two. “I don't want a wife who would interfere in my personal life. I believe you won't be like that. So yes, give me an heir within first year .

My skin flushed hot. My dress felt too tight suddenly. I shifted in my seat, hoping the thundering of my heartbeat wasn’t visible through my ribs.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

I never—never—thought this would go that far.

Marriage, yes. Public appearances, sure. But a baby?

With him?

With the man I was only supposed to use?

“I… I didn’t think—”

“Clearly,” he interrupted, sipping his scotch.

I swallowed. “I’m only twenty-three, Rowan. Pregnancy isn’t something I’ve really… considered.”

He tilted his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yet you were ready to marry a man a decade older than you.”

That shut me up fast.

My lips pressed into a thin line. My arguments died quietly in my throat.

Rowan leaned back, one arm stretched over the back of the leather couch, legs crossed at the ankle. He was relaxed ,infuriatingly so , while I was sitting here unraveling beneath mascara and carefully planned lies.

“You said you fell in love with me,” he continued smoothly. “Is it such a terrible idea to have a child with someone you love?”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

He was mocking me. Testing me.

And I deserved it.

Because I didn’t love him.

I barely knew him.

But I needed him.

And now, he was raising the price.

“I just thought… we’d keep things clean. Legal. No… no intimacy involved.”

“You want the title and none of the consequences? What are your other motives if you don't want intimacy?” he asked his voice stern and I struggle to sit straight.

“I want intimacy too but after sometime. After we get to know eachother.,” I said, a little too quickly.

His gaze narrowed.

“i belive intimacy is one that that would make us come closer. I’m not looking for a paper bride, Freya. If I’m going to put my name next to yours, it comes with expectations. I need someone who can carry it forward. ”

Carry it forward.

The words sank in like ice water.

He was talking about a child the way someone might talk about a stock portfolio — valuable, strategic, necessary.

“What if I say no?” I asked quietly.

He shrugged. “Then this deal doesn’t happen.”

Silence wrapped around us like tension in a wire, stretching, straining.

I couldn’t breathe.

I looked at him — really looked at him — the man I had targeted to hurt someone else. The man I have planned to use until I get to see Logan's angry face.

But Rowan wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t easy.

He was steel and storm and shadows.

And I had walked straight into a fire I couldn’t control.

“I’m not asking for love yet you are giving it to me,” he added, more softly now. “Just commitment. And a baby in one year.”

I nodded slowly, though I felt like I was floating outside of my body.

A child.

His child.

It sounded impossible. Terrifying.

But I couldn’t back down. Not yet. Not when Logan still needed to lose.

So I smiled — small, hesitant — and whispered,

“Okay.”

Rowan raised his glass in silent agreement, then finished the last of his drink in one long, slow swallow.

And just like that…

I agreed to give birth to my enemy’s brother’s heir.

For revenge.

…

The room he brought me to didn’t feel like a hotel suite — it felt like a boardroom with mood lighting.

Everything was sleek, masculine, understated luxury. Dark walls. Steel fixtures. Not a single pillow out of place. It was his suite. Rowan Thorne’s world didn’t allow chaos — not even in the furniture.

He poured himself another scotch, didn’t offer me one. I wasn’t sure if that meant he didn’t see me as an equal or he didn’t trust me with alcohol. Either way, it stung.

I stood near the window, arms crossed, heart thudding hard under my ribs. I’d said yes. I’d agreed to everything.

And now I was waiting for the fine print.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I nodded. “I already said yes.”

He turned, handed me a thick envelope.

“Then read this.”

I took it with both hands — it was heavier than I expected — and walked over to the marble table.

When I pulled the contract out, it wasn’t handwritten. It wasn’t even casually typed.

It was printed on thick, cream-colored paper with letterhead embossed in gold.

CARTERS & ASSOCIATES.

Of course.

The man didn’t do anything without a lawyer. But I had no idea when he got a time to type all of this. Maybe he asked one of his man to write a contract while we were talking in the lounge.

My hands trembled slightly as I flipped open the first page.

---

MARRIAGE AGREEMENT

Between Rowan Elias Thorne and Freya Lillian Sinclair

Effective Upon Signature and Legal Registration

---

My eyes scanned line after line, and with every word, my stomach sank further.

Clause 1: This marriage is to remain legally binding for a minimum of two years. Clause 2: The parties shall reside in the same primary residence for the full duration. Clause 3: The Wife agrees to maintain public appearances as a legitimate spouse of Mr. Thorne. Clause 4: The Wife agrees to bear one (1) biological child within the first year of marriage. Clause 5: Failure to conceive within said timeframe must be supported by medical documentation.

I stopped breathing for a second.

A contract. For a baby.

I looked up sharply. Rowan was watching me silently, sipping his drink, not a flicker of doubt on his face.

“You’re serious about this,” I said quietly.

“You thought I wasn’t?”

“I know you are but going to the extent of making a contract for a marriage? I just confessed to you and this is how you treat a girl?” I said with a chuckle while he looked at me with his blank expression.

“You think that I will agree to marry a girl I met yesterday?” He asked as he c****d his brow. “I am a businessman, Freya . I am not stupid. I don't know what your other motive is.”

“I just want you to fall for me.” I said.

“Then you are in delusion. I will not fall for anyone.”

I swallowed hard deciding it's better to not say more words and turned back to the next page.

Clause 6: The parties agree to abstain from any romantic or s****l relationships with third parties for the duration of the marriage. Violation will result in a penalty determined by the injured party.

Clause 7: The Wife will receive a monthly allowance of ₹____ for personal use, independent of household expenses.

Clause 8: Upon fulfillment of the two-year term and successful birth of an heir, the Wife will be entitled to a final settlement of ₹____ and the option to retain the Thorne surname.

“And what if I don't want to retain your surname?”

“We will see how it goes.”

Clause 9: Emotional attachment is neither required nor expected.

My fingers curled around the edge of the paper.

That line. That one stupid line—

“Emotional attachment is neither required nor expected.”

Like I was some intern signing an NDA.

“So that’s it?” I whispered. “I become a name on paper. A vessel.”

He didn’t flinch.

“You asked to marry me, Freya,” he said. “This is what that means.”

“You make it sound like a corporate merger.”

“It is. You are going to give me an heir.”

I stared at him, the disbelief slowly giving way to something colder. He thinks of an heir as if they are nothing more than a tool in his business world. I already feel sorry for his – our child.

“And if I don’t sign it?”

He set the glass down.

“Then I assume this whole performance was nothing more than a lie. And we go back to pretending we’re strangers. We pretend that this conversation never happened and I never met you at that bridge.”

I clenched my jaw.

He wasn’t going to chase me. He wasn’t going to beg. He was giving me the option , and daring me to walk away from it. Because he had nothing to lose. He would get any woman to bear his child. It's me that needs him for my revenge. I don't have any other way to get my revenge . Marriage with Rowan is my only way.

I looked back at the contract.

My name was printed neatly beneath his.

Freya Lillian Sinclair.

Next to Rowan Elias Thorne.

It looked wrong. But it also looked powerful.

Logan would choke when he saw the wedding announcement.

He’d burn when he found out I was having his brother’s child.

That was the only reason I picked up the pen.

Not because I was ready. Not because I was brave.

But because I wanted to win.

Even if it broke me.

“Where do I sign?”