"Yes," Lucas replied simply. "I've arranged everything. We go to the registry today. No delays."
Her stomach twisted. She had just signed a contract with a man she barely knew, and now she was about to legally become his wife. This is really happening… two years… all the rules… my family…
They left the office, the city bustling around them. Serena clutched her purse tightly as Lucas led the way, his hand brushing hers briefly as they passed through the revolving doors. Her heart skipped, and she quickly looked away, cheeks burning.
At the registry office, Lucas handled everything with calm precision. He filled out forms, provided identification, and made introductions as if they were a perfectly normal couple. Serena followed his lead, trying to mimic his composure while her mind raced.
When the official finally handed over the marriage certificate, Lucas took it in one hand and glanced at her with an unreadable expression. "This is now legally binding, Serena. Two years. No mistakes."
Serena nodded silently, her hands trembling as she stared at the document. It's real… I'm really Mrs. Kingsley…
Serena stared at the marriage certificate in her hands long after they left the registry office.
Her name sat beside his—Serena Kingsley—printed in neat black ink, as if it had always belonged there. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real. And yet, the weight of the paper said otherwise.
Lucas walked a step ahead of her, his presence calm and unhurried, as if he hadn't just altered both their lives in the span of a single afternoon.
They entered the car in silence.
The door shut with a soft thud, sealing them into a private world that felt far too small.
Only then did Lucas speak.
"There are rules."
Serena stiffened. She had expected this—prepared herself for it—but hearing the words still sent a chill down her spine.
He turned slightly toward her, his expression composed, eyes sharp and unreadable. "This marriage exists for one reason only. Appearances."
She nodded slowly. "I understand."
"Good." He reached for the folder beside him and opened it. Inside was a second document—thinner, but somehow more intimidating.
Lucas slid it toward her. "These are the terms."
She took it with trembling fingers.
The first rule was clear and cold.
No falling in love.
Serena's breath caught for just a second before she forced herself to continue reading.
The second rule made her heart skip.
No pregnancy.
Her grip tightened on the paper.
The third rule followed immediately.
No crossing personal boundaries.
She swallowed.
The fourth rule felt heavier than the rest.
You will maintain the image of Mrs. Kingsley in public. No mistakes. No scandals.
Serena looked up at him. "And in private?"
"In private," Lucas said calmly, "we live separate lives."
The words should have been comforting.
Instead, they felt strangely hollow.
She lowered her gaze again, reading the final clause.
Duration: Two years.
Two years of pretending. Two years of a marriage built on paper and silence.
At the bottom was a final line, typed in bold.
This contract will terminate automatically after two years. No extensions. No exceptions.
Serena exhaled slowly.
Two years. She could survive two years.
She looked up. "And after that?"
Lucas met her eyes. For just a moment, something unreadable flickered there.
"After that," he said, "we go back to being strangers."
The car stopped in front of a towering glass building.
"My penthouse," Lucas said as he stepped out. "You'll be staying there."
Her eyes widened. "Tonight?"
"Yes."
Serena hesitated, then followed him inside.
The elevator ride was quiet. Too quiet.
She watched the numbers climb, her reflection staring back at her from the mirrored walls. Mrs. Kingsley, her mind whispered. The name still didn't fit.
When the doors opened, she was greeted by a space that looked like it belonged in a magazine—sleek, modern, and impossibly cold.
"This is temporary," Lucas said, as if reading her thoughts. "Your room is on the east wing. Mine is on the west."
She nodded. "Understood."
A pause.
"There's one more thing," he added.
She turned back to him.
"Our marriage will be announced tomorrow."
Her heart skipped. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes. A simple press release. No ceremony. No interviews."
Serena forced herself to stay calm. "And my family?"
"They'll be informed."
The way he said it left no room for discussion.
Later that night, Serena sat alone on the edge of the bed, staring out at the city lights.
Everything had happened so fast.
Three days ago, she had been worrying about unpaid bills and deadlines. Now she was legally married to a billionaire she barely knew—trapped in a contract that forbade love, intimacy, and mistakes.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
No falling in love, she reminded herself.
That shouldn't be hard.
Not when the man she married looked at her like a calculated decision instead of a person.
And yet…
Her phone buzzed softly.
A message from an unknown number.
Lucas: Get some rest. Tomorrow won't be easy.
She stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.
Serena: I know.
She set the phone aside and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Somewhere in the penthouse, Lucas Kingsley was doing the same—her husband in name, a stranger in every other way.
And neither of them knew just how fragile their rules truly were.