MICHAEL
The air was cold, the kind of winter cold that sliced through the best suits. I was leaning against the railing of my penthouse balcony, looking out at the skyline of Manhattan, a city of dreams, ambition, and reinvention, and somewhere out there was Zari Valentine, the woman I had been silently observing for ten years. I swirled the bourbon in my glass, the amber liquid catching the soft glow of the city lights. I had finally made my move after years of silence, offering her something daring, something out of the ordinary. When she was imprisoned, I was in a coma. I had been in a car crash, but immediately I could talk. I locked in a deal to get her out, yet someone had tried to kill her before she could make it outside.
Most women didn't dream of a contract marriage, but Zari wasn't like most women. She was steel and fire, tempered by loss and treachery. I anticipated her arrival. She didn't like to leave questions unanswered. And the doorbell rang as soon as I had that notion. With my shined heels clicking on the marble floor, I put down the glass and walked across the room. Zari Valentine, the fallen star who continued to shine brighter than anybody I had ever known, was there when I opened the door. Because of the six years she had spent fighting for her life, her beauty had changed. Her eyes had lost their tenderness and had taken on a ferocious, uncompromising quality. She was a broken lady who used barbed wire to put herself back together. I said, "Zari," moving aside to make room for her. At first, she remained motionless, her keen eyes searching mine. She continued, "You said you wanted to help me," in a steady but doubtful tone. "I must know the reason." I pointed to the living area. "Come on in. Let's have a conversation. Despite her hesitation, she entered, her coat snugly encircling her as if it would protect her from the truths she would soon discover. With the coffee table between us, we were seated opposite one another. I poured her a glass of wine, but she didn't touch it. Rather, she leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees and her gaze fixed on mine. "Why me?" she was direct in her question. "Why give me a marriage contract? What is it that you truly desire? I took a moment to examine her while leaning back in my chair. Her mind was going over every potential angle, and she was as keen as ever. I said plainly, "Because I believe in you." "Because I have the resources to assist you in rebuilding your life, and you deserve that opportunity." "That isn't a response," she stated in a firm voice. "There are plenty of people you could help. Why me?" I ran a hand through my hair and let out a deep exhale. This was it, the truth I had hidden for years, the moment I had been avoiding. I answered in a calm but firm voice, "Because I've been in love with you for ten years." For the first time since she entered my house, her eyes expanded and she appeared truly shocked. "What?" she murmured. "I've cherished you for a decade. I said, keeping my eyes fixed on her, "I've loved you for ten years." "I saw you ascend to the top and illuminate the world with your enthusiasm and talent. I also saw you fall. Although you were with him, I wanted to intervene and assist you then. "Hamilton," she murmured, her tone brimming with resentment. I gave a nod. You were blind to the fact that he didn't deserve you. I reasoned that you would understand the type of man he was if I waited and gave you some space. But it was too late by the time you did. Her expression was impenetrable as she looked into my eyes. Are you implying that you have been observing me in the background for a decade? Why did you remain silent? I said, "Because I was in a car accident that put me in a coma. "What could I have given you then? With her arms crossed, she questioned, "And now?" I firmly said, "I can now offer you a way out." "A method to reclaim all that was taken from you" to get your life back." Her jaw tensed as she averted her gaze. "This marriage must remain a secret. I cannot return to the spotlight. Not quite yet. "Okay," I said. "We can keep it private. However, you must live with me, stay away from the opposite sex unless it's totally unavoidable, attend some functions with me and share my bed. Her eyes narrowed as her head jerked back towards me. "Why?" Sincerely, I said, "Because I want to protect you." "Hamilton has not yet completed his actions thoroughly, Zari. You're the greatest loose end he's ever left hanging, and he's a man who fixes them. I can make sure you won't be hurt if you live with me." You can't tell me that you don't suspect that he had a hand in everything that happened. She laughed. "I've been watching over my shoulder for the past six years. A babysitter is not necessary for me. She stated in a stern tone, "This isn't up for negotiation." "You live here if we do this and get married. "I don't want a wedding dress," she says. I retort, "We don't even need to go to court; our marriage documents are here. You just need to sig"n. She scoffs. "Seems to me like you had it all planned out, and by the way, I'm not having sex with you." She signs the documents once again without reading, but at least I won't hurt her. "Sweetheart, yes, you will be having sex with me, maybe not immediately, but you will. I am seven years older than you, heir apparent to a very wealthy lineage, a self-made billionaire with one sister whose parents have been doing the impossible to convince her to get married, plus I'm insanely handsome, and the chemistry between us is over the roof." I light a cigarette after signing the document and putting it away. "I can't cook, I won't quit my career, and I don't even like or know you." I laughed. "There are maids; you don't have to cook. You may not like me, but you're attracted to me; you haven't stopped crossing and uncrossing your legs since you got here. Should I touch you to show you?" She jumps backwards. "No...no, thank you." She stutters. And I don't want you to give up your career; I want you to have one bigger than the one you have." I get rid of the cigarette butt, then walk up to her and kiss her like my life depended on it. At first, she resisted, but she eventually gave in. The conversation is over. Her stubbornness flared to life as she scowled at me. "I dislike having my actions dictated to me." I retorted, "And I don't like the thought of you getting hurt." Zari, you've experienced enough. Allow me to assist you. The tension between us crackled like a live wire, and the room went silent.
She finally took a long breath and leaned back in her chair. "I need some time to consider this." I answered, "Take as much time as you need; while living with me, I'd give you space." I would never let her be apart from me unless it was unavoidable. She stood, her actions precise and purposeful. "I need to go talk to Grace." With my heart racing, I followed her to the door. I was unable to resist as she turned to go. "Zari", I said, halting her in her tracks. Her gaze was reserved as she turned back to face me. I said, "I know you don't trust me yet." However, I swear to you that I will never turn on you. Not as he did. Although she didn't answer, I was encouraged by the glimmer of emotion in her eyes. As the door wasbehind her, I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty space where she had been. This was my chance to make things right. To give her the life she deserved. But deep down, I knew I was playing a dangerous game. And I wasn't sure either of us would walk away unscathed. I called my best friend and business partner, Larry Bridge, "I need you at the penthouse now."