Chapter 3 The Contract

Chapter Three: The Contract

The silence stretched long and thin between them,sharp as glass, fragile as porcelain. Gold sat across from Daniel Copper, a man she had only just met, and yet he had just offered her something far more outrageous than a drink or a date.He had offered her marriage.Marriage.The word echoed in her mind like a ricochet, bouncing between her logical thoughts and the dull ache of her still-healing heart.She crossed her legs, not to appear elegant but to keep from bolting. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice a little unsteady. "Did you just propose a contract marriage?"Daniel didn't blink. "I did."Gold blinked twice for him. "To me. A woman you don't know. A woman who just got dumped.""You're resourceful. Poised. Discreet. You're not after my money, and you have no ties to the media. That's a better résumé than most of the women I meet."She leaned forward, incredulous. "So, what? You need a wife like some people need a personal assistant?""In a way," he said smoothly. "I need a wife who can play a role. Public appearances. Social functions. Press events. Someone who won't fall apart under scrutiny. And someone who understands that this is a transaction,not a fairytale."Gold gave a short, bitter laugh. "Don't worry. I stopped believing in fairytales yesterday."Daniel tilted his head, studying her. "You're angry. That's good. It means you still care.""No," she said quietly. "It means I'm still bleeding."And there it was,the crack in her voice, the truth in her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of this stranger in a silk tie, but heartbreak was funny like that. It came in waves. Sneaky, drowning waves.Daniel didn't reach for her. Didn't offer a hand or a tissue or a hollow condolence. He simply sat there, patient and silent, letting her find her footing again.She appreciated that more than she could say.Gold cleared her throat. "Why me, though? You could have any woman in New York, probably most of Europe too. Why not just hire an actress?""Because they act," he said bluntly. "They lie. You don't. You're heartbreakingly honest. Even when you're trying to hide it."She didn't know if that was a compliment or an insult."What do you get out of this, really?" she asked. "And don't give me some cryptic billionaire answer. I want the truth."Daniel nodded slowly, as if weighing how much to tell her. Then he said, "My company's legacy is being contested. There are investors and board members who don't trust a single man with no roots. No emotional anchor. Marriage changes that perception. It stabilizes my image,and in return, I'll stabilize your world too."Gold stared at him. "You want me to become your emotional anchor.""No. I want you to pretend to be," he corrected. "There's a difference."She sat back, her heart still pounding. This wasn't a man with sweet promises or rehearsed lines. This was a strategist. A chess player. Calculating every move."And if I say yes," she asked cautiously, "what happens next?""A legally binding marriage contract for one year. You'll move into my penthouse. Attend public events by my side. We maintain the illusion of a real couple. In exchange, you'll receive full financial support, a monthly allowance, and a lump sum when the contract ends."Gold's mind spun. It was crazy. It was cold. It was,"Tempting," she murmured.Daniel's lips quirked. "I thought it might be.""But I need time," she said. "To think. To breathe. To wrap my head around the fact that I might go from heartbreak hotel to Park Avenue bride overnight.""Take all the time you need." He slid a sleek black card across the table. "When you're ready, call that number. Ask for Andrew. He'll handle everything."Gold picked up the card like it might burn her. "You've done this before, haven't you?""No," he said simply. "But I've thought about it for a long time. You just happened to walk into my timeline."His eyes locked with hers,not in flirtation, but with something far more unsettling: conviction. This wasn't a man making a desperate offer. This was a man who believed he was offering her the deal of a lifetime.And maybe... he was.Two days passed.Gold didn't call. She paced her tiny apartment, reread the note a dozen times, stared at Daniel's card like it held secrets.Leila, of course, was ecstatic."If you don't call him," she said, "I will. Girl, do you know how many women would sell their souls for this kind of escape hatch?""It's not an escape," Gold muttered. "It's another cage. Just with velvet bars and a high thread count.""And maybe the key to a new life," Leila argued. "Look. You loved someone and got crushed. Maybe it's not about love this time. Maybe it's about power. Stability. Rewriting your story."Gold thought about that. A lot.Because the truth was, she was tired. Tired of struggling. Tired of being good and getting crumbs. Tired of watching her dreams gather dust while someone else chased theirs with her support.She wasn't a gold digger. She didn't want Daniel's fortune. She wanted a life that wasn't defined by someone else's choices.So, the next morning,her hands shaking, her pulse racing,she called the number."Andrew speaking," a crisp voice answered."This is Gold Bennett," she said, swallowing hard. "I'm ready."There was a pause, then: "Very good, Miss Bennett. Mr. Copper will see you this evening. We'll send a car at six."At 5:58 PM, a black town car pulled up to the curb outside her building. She wore the best outfit she owned,a sleek navy dress Leila had insisted she keep for emergencies. Apparently, this counted.Her palms were sweaty. Her knees weren't exactly steady. But she climbed in anyway.Because this time, she wasn't chasing love.She was choosing herself.And if marrying a stranger helped her do that?Then maybe strangers weren't so bad after all.