Chapter 4 SIGNING THE CONTRACT

Ivy's POV

The contract, an intimidating stack of papers neatly packed in a leather folder, was thicker than I had anticipated. Except for the papers in front of me and the pen he had thoughtfully set next to them, Griffin's desk was immaculate. I felt the weight of my choice weighing down on me as I glanced at the pages, my stomach churning.

Griffin remarked in a calm, steady voice, "Take your time." His hands were casually resting on the armrests as he leaned back in his chair. Instead of asking me to sign away six months of my life, he might as well have been talking about the weather.

I turned to the first page and skimmed the legalese. The conditions were really severe. I was expected to keep up appearances, go to functions, and behave as his wife in all public situations. There was no privacy-every action would be monitored. Then there was the secrecy clause.

I whispered to myself, "This is crazy," but Griffin could hear me.

"It's essential," he shot back, his piercing gaze locking with mine. "I need someone I can trust, and the board needs assurance."

I scowled and gestured to a line in the paper. "No connections beyond this arrangement? In essence, you're telling me that I'm incapable of having a life.

He leaned closer and said, "Ivy, you signed up for this." "You are not the focus of this. Making sure the merger goes well is the goal.

"And my liberty?" I lost my temper.

"I'm paying for your freedom," he said in a hurried voice.

His statements made my blood boil, but I couldn't go since Nathan's future was at stake. I inhaled deeply as I read the remainder of the contract.

After a minute, Griffin remarked, "You have questions." It was a statement rather than a question.

I glared at him and corrected, "I have concerns." "This seems... biased."

"It is," he declared without apology. "But, you will receive just compensation."

"Equitably?" I laughed resentfully. "You want me to sacrifice myself for six months. That isn't fair because of money.

"Then don't do it," he replied plainly, his eyes fixed on you. "You have a choice."

I detested his composure and the ease with which he placed the ball in my court. He was aware that I couldn't leave. I wrote my name at the bottom of the final page, my fingers quivering a little as I picked up the pen.

"Happy?" I slid the folder in his direction and asked.

He accepted it, a small smile flickering over his lips. "I'm relieved."

It was like entering a another planet when I moved into Griffin's penthouse. The elevator opened straight into the living room, a place so opulent it could have been featured in a magazine. Every piece of furniture appeared to have cost more than my yearly wage, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a panoramic view of the city skyline.

"This is a lot," I remarked, gripping my tiny suitcase. It seemed ridiculous to bring my shabby possessions into this environment.

"It's home now," Griffin remarked as he passed me without a look. "Everything you require is in the guest room."

The guest room. Correct. Naturally. He stopped in front of a door and pulled it open, and I followed him down the lengthy hallway. With a king-sized bed, a walk-in wardrobe, and an attached bathroom, the room was bigger than my entire apartment.

"Please let me know if anything is missing," he remarked in a cold tone.

As I put my suitcase down, I felt incredibly small. "This will be alright," I muttered.

I couldn't help myself, but he nodded and turned to go. "Do you frequently do this?"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "What do you do?"

"This is how you bring people into your life. Get them to sign contracts. Take charge of everything.

His jaw tensed, but he remained silent. Rather, he turned to leave me alone in the large, strange room.

That night's dinner was just as awkward as I had anticipated. The meal, which Griffin had prepared by a private chef, was delicious, but the ambiance was anything but. The stillness between us stretched awkwardly as we sat at opposite ends of a long dinner table.

Desperate to fill the gap, I started, "So." "Are there any ground rules?"

He raised an eyebrow and repeated, "Ground rules?"

"For... this arrangement," I murmured, making hazy gestures. "What am I supposed to do? In addition to the evident

His sharp eyes met mine as he put down his fork. "I anticipate that you will abide by the conditions of the agreement. Ivy, appearances are crucial. You'll go to events with me, pose for pictures, and do your part well.

"And in private?" My question was hardly audible above a whisper.

A shadow moved across his face, darkening his eyes. "We are nothing when we are not present. This is just a business transaction.

I nodded even though his comments hurt more than I wanted to acknowledge. "Comprehensive."

He picked up his glass of wine and replied, "Good." "Tomorrow night is the first event. Be prepared.

"Tomorrow?" I almost dropped my fork as I choked. "That's a little notice."

"You'll get by," he said sarcastically. "I'll forward the information to my assistant."

That was the end of the discourse, and I was left to eat in silence. The weight of his presence made it impossible to enjoy the dinner; every bite tasted like cardboard. Feeling more alienated than ever, I excused myself and withdrew to my room when we were finally done.

My sense that I was making a mistake persisted as I unloaded my items. I felt as though I was playing a part in someone else's life during the contract, the move, and the supper. And Griffin was a riddle I was unable to unravel. There was something underneath the surface, even if it appeared cold and distant at first. Something that eluded me completely.

I was surprised by a knock at the door and turned to see Griffin standing there. He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame without entering.

His voice was low as he stated, "I need you to understand something."

I took a deep breath. "What?"

"This agreement is only meant to last temporarily. It serves as a tool. Don't think it's something else.

Even though what he said felt like a slap, I had to nod. "I understand."

"Good," he said, his face inscrutable. "Take a nap. It's a huge day tomorrow.

Without saying anything else, he walked away, and I collapsed on the bed with my thoughts racing. The lines were already starting to blur, and the stakes were higher than I had anticipated. One thing was certain: I was in over my head, regardless of what the future held.