Chapter 3 The Contract is Signed

Adriana sat in the expansive conference room, her heart hammering as she stared at the stack of papers in front of her. The sleek, glass-topped table stretched between her and Marco, who lounged in his chair with effortless ease, his expression unreadable.

The room smelled of expensive cologne and freshly brewed coffee. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sharp shadows across the polished floors. It was the kind of room where million-dollar deals were sealed, where men like Marco Romano dictated the fate of others with the stroke of a pen.

And today, she was one of them.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the contract, her eyes scanning the dense legal text. She had already read through it twice the night before, had tossed and turned in the massive bed Marco provided her, replaying every clause in her head.

A one-year agreement.

No romantic obligations.

A compensation package that could change her life.

And an ironclad non-disclosure clause that made it clear-once the year was up, she would disappear from his world as if she had never existed.

It was all straightforward, yet somehow it felt like she was walking into a trap.

"Everything to your satisfaction?" Marco's voice was smooth, almost lazy.

Adriana glanced up, meeting his dark gaze. He sat back in his chair, one arm draped over the side, fingers idly tapping against the table. He looked completely unbothered, as if the weight of this decision meant nothing to him.

Meanwhile, she could barely breathe.

"I..." She swallowed. "I just want to confirm-there's no way for you to back out of this, right?"

A ghost of a smirk touched Marco's lips. "Worried I'll change my mind?"

She straightened her shoulders. "I need to be sure."

Marco studied her for a moment, then nodded toward his lawyer, a sharply dressed man who had barely spoken since she arrived. "Explain."

The lawyer adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Romano is contractually bound to uphold his end of the agreement. That includes financial support, public appearances as your husband, and fulfilling all obligations outlined within the contract."

"And at the end of the year?"

"You will receive your settlement and walk away."

Adriana exhaled slowly. One year. That was all.

She lifted the pen, hesitated for only a second, then pressed it to the paper, signing her name with careful precision.

Marco leaned forward, taking the pen from her fingers before adding his own signature.

It was done.

Her fate was sealed.

The lawyer gathered the documents, sliding them into a folder before rising from his seat. "I'll have the finalized copies delivered to both of you."

With a nod, he exited the room, leaving Adriana alone with Marco.

The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken.

Marco exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers against the table. "How does it feel?"

Adriana glanced at him. "Like I just sold my soul."

A deep chuckle escaped him. "You're more dramatic than I expected."

She scowled, pushing back her chair. "If we're done here, I'd like to go-"

"Not so fast." Marco's voice was low, authoritative. He gestured toward the door. "We have a public appearance to make."

Adriana froze. "What?"

Marco stood, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. "The world needs to know that we're engaged. There's a gala tonight-every elite in New York will be there. We'll make our debut as a couple."

Her stomach twisted. "So soon?"

Marco smirked. "Better to rip off the bandage quickly, don't you think?"

Adriana swallowed hard. She wasn't ready. Not for the cameras, not for the whispers, not for the inevitable scrutiny.

But she had signed the contract.

And Marco Romano always got what he wanted.

The Weight of a Signature

Adriana sat still as Marco made a call, presumably arranging for the evening's appearance. Her thoughts drifted to the past 48 hours. She had gone from barely scraping by, desperately looking for a way to save her sister, to sitting in a billionaire's office, legally binding herself to a man she barely knew.

Her mother's voice echoed in her mind.

You're stronger than this world thinks you are.

Was she, though?

She felt fragile, breakable, like one wrong move would shatter the carefully constructed mask she wore.

Marco's voice pulled her back to reality. "I'll have a dress sent to your suite. Be ready by seven."

Adriana frowned. "Suite?"

Marco smirked. "You're not staying in that shoebox of an apartment anymore. You'll move into my penthouse until this arrangement is over."

Her stomach clenched. "That wasn't in the contract."

"It was implied."

"No, it wasn't."

Marco leaned forward, placing his hands on the table as he studied her. "We have to sell this, Adriana. That means sharing the same space, showing up together, looking like a real couple. People will be watching-people who would love nothing more than to expose a lie."

She hated that he was right.

Still, the thought of living under the same roof as him unsettled her.

"You'll have your own room," Marco added, as if reading her mind. "You can lock the door if it makes you feel better."

Adriana lifted her chin. "I wasn't worried about that."

His smirk deepened. "Liar."

Heat rose to her cheeks, but she ignored it. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll pack my things."

"No need." He stood, straightening his jacket. "It's already been taken care of."

Adriana blinked. "You went through my stuff?"

"I sent someone to handle it."

Her jaw tightened. The idea of strangers touching her personal belongings made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to let it go. This was her reality now.

"Seven o'clock," Marco reminded her. "Don't be late."

Then, without another word, he strode out of the room, leaving Adriana staring after him.

She had signed the contract.

And now there was no going back.