### **1. The War Inside**
Amara didn't remember leaving the lounge.
She didn't remember the exact words she muttered in response to his audacious proposal—or how she managed to make her legs move when they felt like melting jelly.
What she did remember was how she kept replaying it over and over again in her head.
> *"Marry me. One year. Ten million naira."*
As she stood on the side of the road waiting for the rickety bus to GRA Phase 3, her heart felt like a kettle on the verge of whistling. Her entire body hummed with shock.
Her phone buzzed again.
Adaora.
> *"Aunty, the landlord came back with a lock. I told him you'd come this evening and sort it. You're still coming, right?"*
She closed her eyes.
Her sister didn't deserve this life. A sixteen-year-old who should be worried about homework, not hiding from a landlord or eating garri for dinner.
> "God, what kind of choice is this?" she whispered. "What kind of life is this?"
She could still see his face—that cold confidence. The way he spoke like her life was a chessboard and she was one of his pieces.
But what chilled her even more... was that he wasn't wrong.
She *was* desperate.
She *did* need the money.
And more dangerously... a part of her was intrigued.
---
### **2. The Conditions**
Two days later, a black SUV pulled up in front of the flat she shared with Adaora.
It was sleek, silent, and out of place in this worn-down compound with cracked walls and plastic buckets hanging on window rails.
Damian Stone stepped out wearing a navy-blue fitted shirt, sleeves rolled, no tie. Sharp. Unbothered. Power practically radiated from him.
Amara was sitting on a concrete block outside the gate, chewing silently on a piece of bread. Her hair was in a rough bun, her eyes sunken from sleepless nights.
He walked up and handed her a black envelope.
> "That contains the agreement. You have three days to decide."
> "Why are you here?" she asked flatly.
> "To show you that this is real. And because I don't trust text messages with sensitive matters."
> "You could've just sent your lawyer."
> "I want you to know what you're walking into."
> "You mean a cold marriage built on lies?"
He didn't blink.
> "A lifeline."
He looked around. The peeling paint. The children playing barefoot in the mud. The neighbor's toddler crying because there was no light.
> "You deserve better than this. Your sister deserves better."
Her throat tightened. "Don't pretend like you care."
> "I don't. But I do believe in fair trade."
He nodded once and turned to leave.
> "Three days, Amara."
She didn't call him back. Didn't scream. Just stared at the envelope in her hand like it was on fire.
---
### **3. Inside the Deal**
Later that night, with Adaora asleep on a mattress beside her, Amara lit a candle and opened the envelope.
**The Terms**:
1. **Duration**: 12 months.
2. **Location**: She would move into a separate wing of his estate in Ikoyi. No shared room.
3. **Public Image**: They would attend events, maintain the appearance of a married couple.
4. **No intimacy required**.
5. **Discretion**: She would continue her studies remotely. No one on campus was to know.
6. **Compensation**: ₦10 million upon completion, plus payment of all current debts and bills.
7. **Termination Clause**: If either party breached the contract emotionally or physically, the deal was off—with zero compensation.
Her eyes widened at the last line:
> *"Rule Eight: Falling in love is forbidden."*
She let out a humorless laugh. "He thinks this is a game."
But then her eyes fell on the bills pinned to the wall. Adaora's medication cost. Her school debt. The eviction notice.
And just like that, the laughter died.
---
### **4. The Decision**
The next day, she walked back into that same private lounge—this time in a simple cream blouse and jeans, her shoulders straight, her face unreadable.
He was already seated, laptop open, reading contracts.
She stood before him silently.
He didn't look up.
> "You've made your decision," he said, not asking.
> "Yes."
> "You're in."
> "One condition."
Now he looked at her.
> "This may be a game to you, Professor, but it's survival for me. So I want an additional clause added—if you break your side of the agreement, I walk. With the full payout."
His lips twitched—just slightly.
> "You're sharper than I gave you credit for."
> "Get used to it."
He nodded.
> "Then we have a deal."
He extended his hand.
She took it.
And just like that, her fate was sealed.
---