SOPHIE'S POV
Sophie's fingers trembled as she turned the first page.
The contract was heavier than she expected. Not physically, but mentally. Forty pages of words that would decide the next three years of her life. Words that would make her legally bound to a man whose last name she'd learned three hours ago.
Daniel sat across from her and didn't move. He didn't try to rush her. He didn't explain anything away. He just watched her read, patient and still, like he had all the time in the world and nowhere else to be.
She read the first page slowly. Then the second. Her eyes moved across the words but sometimes they didn't register. Her brain kept jumping to the same thought over and over: this is real. This is actually happening.
Page five. The section about living arrangements. She would move into his penthouse immediately. All expenses would be covered. She would have a private room. The contract didn't use the word "bedroom" it said "private room," which felt like a very specific choice.
Page eight. The section about public appearances. She had to attend all business events with him. She had to be photographed with him. She had to smile and laugh and look like she was happy to be his wife. All of it had to look real. The contract was very specific about that. It had to look real or the whole arrangement wouldn't work.
Page twelve. The section that made her stomach drop.
No romantic involvement.
No physical contact beyond what was necessary for appearances.
No emotional attachment.
No crossing lines.
Those were the exact words. "No crossing lines." Like there was a specific line that existed between them that she could cross if she wasn't careful. Like she might wake up one day and forget this was a transaction and start believing it was something real.
Sophie looked up at Daniel.
"Why me?" The question came out smaller than she wanted it to. "You could marry anyone. You could probably marry a supermodel or an heiress or someone from your world. Why choose someone like me?"
Daniel leaned back in his chair. His dark eyes studied her face like he was reading her the same way she'd been reading the contract.
"Because you won't become attached to the idea of me," he said. "You'll see this as what it is. A job. A contract. You'll do your job well and then you'll leave. That's exactly what I need."
There was something almost cruel about how honest he was being. He wasn't trying to soften it. He wasn't trying to make her feel better about the fact that he'd chosen her specifically because she was nobody to him and would always be nobody to him.
But that made sense, didn't it? She'd signed a contract that said no love, no emotional involvement. So of course he wanted someone who wouldn't fall in love with him. Of course he wanted someone he could predict.
Someone like her.
Sophie turned back to the contract and kept reading.
Page fifteen. The termination clause. Either one of them could end the contract early, but there would be consequences. If she left early without his permission, she forfeited all the money and owed him damages for breaking the arrangement. If he left early, he had to pay her the full twenty million dollars regardless.
Sophie traced that line with her finger. He'd built in protections. He wasn't worried about her leaving. He was worried about himself. He wanted to make sure that if he decided to end this, it would cost him. Maybe as a way to force himself to commit to the three years. Maybe because he understood that making something difficult made it more likely to actually happen.
Page twenty. The confidentiality clause. She couldn't tell anyone about the real nature of their relationship. Not her family. Not her friends. Not anyone. If anyone found out this was a contract marriage, the whole arrangement was void. She would lose everything.
That was when Sophie realized the weight of what she was doing. It wasn't just that she was selling three years of her life. It was that she was going to be completely alone in it. She couldn't tell her brother. She couldn't tell her best friend. She couldn't tell anyone the truth. She would have to pretend every single day while keeping the secret locked inside herself.
She kept reading.
The rest of the contract was mostly legal language. Property rights. Tax implications. What would happen to the penthouse if either of them died. It was all very practical and very cold and very final.
At page thirty-nine, Sophie's pen hovered over the signature line.
This was it. Once she signed, everything changed. Once she signed, she wasn't Sophie Chen anymore. She was Mrs. Daniel Stone. She was someone's wife. She was property in a way she'd never been property before.
Her hand shook as she put the pen to the paper.
Daniel didn't say anything. He just watched her sign her name. Sophie Chen. The same handwriting that had filled out college applications and business plans. The same handwriting that had written love notes and angry letters. The same handwriting now belonged to a stranger.
The moment the pen left the paper, something broke inside her. But not from sadness. From relief. A sound like glass shattering in her chest. It was the weight finally falling away. Her family was safe. The hospital bills were paid. Her father could rest. Her brother could finish school.
She had just traded three years of her life for her family's survival.
It was the best and worst decision she'd ever made.
Daniel stood up and walked to a cabinet behind his desk. He pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The bottle looked expensive. The kind of champagne that cost more than Sophie made in a month.
"To new beginnings," he said, pouring the drinks. His voice was smooth and emotionless. To him this was another business deal. Just another contract signed. Just another transaction completed.
Sophie picked up her glass. The champagne was cold and fizzy and tasted like expensive nothing. She drank it without tasting it, looking at Daniel over the rim of her glass.
He looked exactly the same as he had when she arrived. Still cold. Still untouchable. Still the kind of man who existed in a world she didn't belong in.
But now she was his wife.
The thought made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
They stood in silence while the city lights glowed through the windows. Somewhere out there, her father was sleeping in a hospital bed. Somewhere out there, her mother was finally able to breathe. Somewhere out there, her brother had no idea that his sister had just signed her life away to save theirs.
Sophie set down her empty glass.
"What happens next?" she asked.
Daniel was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his words were final.
"Pack light. You move in tomorrow morning. Your old life is over."
The words hit her like a door slamming shut. Tomorrow morning. Not next week. Not when she was ready. Not when she'd said goodbye to her apartment or her job or her life as it was.
Tomorrow.
"What do you mean pack light?" Sophie's voice cracked on the last word.
"I mean bring essentials only. Clothes. Personal items. Nothing sentimental. Nothing that ties you to your past." Daniel walked her to the elevator. "My staff will take care of anything else you need. You won't be going back to your old apartment."
"But I live there. I have things there. I have a job."
"Not anymore." The elevator doors opened. "Tomorrow, you're Mrs. Daniel Stone. That's all you are. That's all you need to be."
The elevator doors started to close.
Sophie stepped inside, her heart pounding. She watched Daniel standing there in his office, looking at her with those dark, untouchable eyes.
"Welcome to your new life, Sophie," he said as the doors shut completely.
And just like that, her old life was gone.