Chapter 3 Lena

Lena was quiet, she was staring out the window as the lights of Melbourne flew by. The way he had said it so casually, just threw it at her that he had a proposition for her had her mind racing. It was absurd, it just didn't make any sense at all... The man sitting beside her was a stranger, a stranger she had bumped into at the gala, who she was somehow sitting in his car and who had just offered her. A deal that could change her life, or one that would probably ruin her.

Ethan Sinclair. She knew who he was now, the President of Sinclair Enterprises and a well known billionaire in Melbourne and beyond.

She had barely spoken a word since getting into the car, mostly because she didn't trust herself to say anything that wouldn't sound desperate or foolish. The man was a walking iceberg... that was how the media always described him. Cold and ruthless with little to no tolerance for unnecessary interactions unless it was about business. He didn't even bother with small talk, and every so often he glanced at her through the corner of his eye without saying a word.

Finally, he spoke.

"Do you really want to save that pathetic gallery of yours?" He asked coldly. "Because I'm offering you a way out."

Lena turned to him with a scoff. "Yeah, and what exactly does a billionaire like you want in return for saving me from the wreckage you've so kindly observed?"

Ethan smiled, but remained focused on the road. "A marriage. A contract really, just to secure my inheritance."

Lena's eyes stared wildly at him, unable to believe what she had just heard. "A contract marriage? Are you serious? You're insane."

He didn't flinch at her reaction, simply kept on driving. "I'm serious... If I'm not married in three weeks, my family's going to rip me apart and I would lose the inheritance Iv'e worked hard for my whole life. But you Lena, you're in a desperate situation and you need money... Its quite simple, I need a wife, and you need a benefactor."

"Simple? You want me to marry you?" She let out a sarcastic laugh. "What's next, you want me to sign away my soul while I'm at it? How do you even know my name?"

"That is irrelevant at the moment, if you're smart you'll see the value in this." Ethan said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. "You'd have enough money to pay off the debts on your father's gallery and never worry about losing it."

Lena's eyes narrowed as she processed his words. The gallery, her father's legacy and everything she'd worked for her entire life. He had a point, but there was no way in hell she was going to make this easy for him. She wasn't some damsel in distress, some woman to be bought and sold with a few zeros on a check.

"You think this is a business transaction?" she snapped, her voice was still carrying the sarcasm. "I'm not some bargaining chip to be used in your twisted little game. You think you can just wave a contract in front of me and I'll roll over?"

Ethan looked at her briefly and then back to the road, his facial expression betrayed nothing. "That's exactly what I think, yes. Because you're about to lose everything Lena. You don't have any other options, you're going to do what you need to survive, and you'll be thanking me in the end."

Lena thought for a while before before she finally spoke. "Fine. Let's say I'm interested in your 'proposal.' What's the catch Ethan? Because I'm not walking into some sham marriage without knowing what kind of hell you're going to make me walk through."

He looked at her with a glimpse of something dark in his eyes. "Theres no special catch, just a piece of paper and a signature for one year. You won't be my wife in the traditional sense, no emotional nonsense, no bullshit about love or talks about affection. Just a name on a contract. You'll get the gallery, and I'll get my inheritance."

Lena narrowed her eyes. "Sounds too good to be true."

"I never offer things that aren't in my favor." He said coldly. "But I don't plan on making this difficult for you if you play your part carefully, you don't need to do anything more than just sign your name and do as I say."

"Just sign my name," she repeated bitterly, shaking her head. "And you think I'm just going to walk away from this without a second thought?"

"If you're smart, you will." Ethan's voice still didn't change, it remained dry of emotion. "If you're not then you'll lose it all, Your gallery, your father's legacy... everything."

They drove in silence for a very long time with Lena deep in thought and only vaguely giving him directions when he asked.

Finally, they arrived.

Ethan slowed to a stop in front of the gallery and Lena looked out. The poor building was just as run-down as it had been when she first inherited it, the windows were cracked and the once vibrant paint was peeling away like layers of her fading hope. She didn't look at him as she got out of the car, she didn't want to because she needed a moment to breathe, to let the heaviness settle in her chest before she turned to face him.

Ethan followed her, his footsteps heavy on the cracked pavement. He stopped at the door of the gallery and stared at the building with obvious disdain.

"It's not much to look at," Lena said quietly, her pride pushing through the weariness. "But it's mine."

Ethan said nothing, he pulled a sleek black card from his pocket and handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers. It sent a jolt through her system, and she quickly pulled her hand away.

"You've got three days," he finally said. "Take a good look and think carefully about my offer. My office address and number is on the card... I'll be waiting."

He turned and made his way back to the car without another word.

Lena stood in front of the gallery, staring down at the card in her hand. Could she do this? Could she really sign away her soul for a whole year for a gallery that might never be worth anything again?... She wasn't sure if she was willing to make a deal with the devil, but with nothing left to lose, maybe she had no choice.