The coffee shop on Fifth Avenue was one of those overpriced places where a latte cost more than Ella made in an hour at the diner. But it had wifi, corner booths for privacy, and most importantly, it was open until midnight.
Ella was able to return the keycard to Jenny saying she found it at her front yard.
Ella sat in the farthest corner, the thick contract folder spread across the table in front of her like evidence at a crime scene. A cold cup of black coffee—the cheapest thing on the menu—sat untouched at her elbow. She'd been here for three hours, and the barista was starting to give her looks.
She didn't care.
The contract was forty-seven pages long. Forty-seven pages of legal jargon, clauses, and subclauses that would bind her life to Dominic Blackwood's for an entire year.
*Marriage Contract Between Dominic Alexander Blackwood III and a black space she would fill her name into.
Writing her name there made it feel unreal. This morning, she'd been serving pancakes to truckers at the Corner Diner. Tonight, she was contemplating signing away a year of her life to a man she barely knew.
Her phone buzzed. Maya. Again. That was the fifth call in the last hour. Ella had been ignoring them all.
She couldn't talk to Maya about this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Because if she said it out loud—if she admitted what she was about to do—it would become real. And once it was real, she couldn't take it back.
Ella forced herself to focus on the contract. She'd learned enough from her business degree to understand most of it, but Dominic's lawyers had buried traps in the language. She had to find them.
"Article 1: Terms of Agreement"
"The marriage shall last exactly one (1) year from the date of signing, commencing at 12:01 AM on [date] and terminating at 11:59 PM on [date]. Upon completion of the term, the marriage shall be dissolved by mutual consent."
One year. Three hundred sixty-five days. She could do anything for a year, right?
"Article 2: Compensation"
*In exchange for fulfilling the terms of this agreement, the blank space with her name suppposed shall receive a total sum of three million dollars ($3,000,000), to be paid as follows:*
*- $500,000 upon signing*
*- $500,000 at three months*
*- $500,000 at six months*
*- $500,000 at nine months*
*- $1,000,000 upon successful completion of the full term*
Ella's hands trembled as she read the numbers. Three million dollars. It was more money than she'd see in three lifetimes. More than enough to save her mother, pay off every debt, and still have enough left over to breathe.
But nothing was ever that simple.
"Article 3: Residence and Cohabitation"
"The blank space with her name supposed shall reside in Mr. Blackwood's primary residence for the duration of the agreement. Separate bedrooms will be provided. Physical intimacy is not required but must appear genuine in public settings."
Separate bedrooms. That was something, at least. But the last part made her stomach clench. 'Must appear genuine.' What did that mean? Holding hands? Kissing? More?
"Article 4: Public Appearances"
'the blank name with her name supposed shall attend all required social functions as Mr. Blackwood's wife, including but not limited to: business dinners, charity galas, family gatherings, and corporate events. Appropriate attire will be provided. Miss Morgan must present herself as a devoted, supportive spouse at all times.'
Family gatherings. God, she'd have to meet his family. Pretend to be in love with him in front of people who would see right through her.
"Article 5: Confidentiality"
'This agreement and all terms herein are strictly confidential. The blank space with her name supposed shall not disclose the contractual nature of the marriage to any third party, including but not limited to: family members, friends, colleagues, or media. Violation of this clause will result in immediate termination of the agreement and forfeiture of all compensation.'
She couldn't tell anyone. Not Maya. Not even her mother.
The lie would have to be complete.
Ella's chest tightened. She took a sip of cold coffee, trying to steady her nerves, and kept reading.
"Article 6: Termination Conditions"
'This agreement may be terminated early under the following conditions:'
'a) Mutual consent of both parties'
'b) Breach of contract by either party'
'c) Criminal conduct by either party'
'd) Development of genuine romantic feelings by either party'
Ella stopped.
Read it again.
'Development of genuine romantic feelings by either party.'
Her blood ran cold.
She flipped to the explanatory notes in the appendix, her hands shaking.
'Note on Article 6(d): Should either party develop authentic romantic feelings for the other during the term of the agreement, they must disclose such feelings immediately. Upon disclosure, the contract will be considered void, and the blank space with her name supposed will forfeit all remaining compensation. This clause exists to maintain the professional nature of the arrangement and prevent complications.*
Ella stared at the words until they blurred.
If she fell in love with Dominic Blackwood, she lost everything.
If he fell in love with her, she lost everything.
The contract wasn't just binding her to a year of pretending—it was forbidding her from ever letting it become real.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no."
This was the trap. This was the catch she'd been looking for.
Dominic had designed a contract where the one thing that could save them both from a year of misery was the one thing that would destroy the agreement entirely. It was elegant. Cruel. Perfectly calculated.
'Don't fall in love with me, and I won't fall in love with you, and everyone gets what they want.'
Ella's phone buzzed again. This time it wasn't Maya.
Unknown number. A text message.
Tick tock, Miss Morgan. Eight hours left. Where's my money? -R
Rakim. His timing was perfect, as always. A reminder that she didn't have the luxury of walking away.
Ella looked back at the contract, at the clause that forbade love, at the three million dollars that could save her mother's life.
What were the odds she'd actually fall for Dominic Blackwood anyway? He was cold, calculating, and ruthless. He'd made it clear this was a business transaction. She'd go in, play her part, collect her money, and leave. Simple.
People didn't fall in love in a year when they were trying not to.
Right?
Her phone rang. Maya again.
This time, Ella answered.
"Where the hell have you been?" Maya's voice was sharp with worry. "I've been calling for hours!"
"I'm sorry, I just—" Ella's voice cracked. "I needed to think."
"Think about what? Ella, what's going on? You've been weird all week."
Ella closed her eyes. She couldn't tell Maya the truth. But she couldn't keep lying to her best friend either.
"If I asked you to trust me," Ella said quietly, "to just... trust that I'm doing what I need to do, even if it seems crazy, could you do that?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"You're scaring me," Maya said finally.
"I know. I'm scared too." Ella opened her eyes, looking down at the contract. "But I think... I think I'm about to do something that will either save my life or ruin it."
"Ella—"
"I can't tell you what it is. Not yet. Maybe not ever." Her throat tightened. "But I need you to know that whatever happens, whatever you hear, I'm doing this for my mom. Okay?"
"Okay," Maya whispered. "But please, 'please' be careful. Whatever this is—"
"I will. I promise."
After they hung up, Ella sat in the coffee shop for another hour, reading through the contract three more times. Looking for other traps, other clauses that could destroy her.
She found plenty of restrictions—she couldn't work during the marriage (conflict of interest), couldn't travel without his permission (security concerns), couldn't speak to media without approval (image control). But nothing else as damning as Article 6(d).
"Don't fall in love."
Could she do that? Could she live with someone for a year, share his home, attend his events, play his wife, and keep her heart completely locked away?
Ella thought of her mother in that hospital bed. Thought of the heart monitor beeping, counting down time. Thought of Castellano's threat.
It would be a shame if something happened to disrupt her care.
She pulled out a pen.
Outside, it started to rain again. The coffee shop's neon sign flickered. A couple hurried past the window, laughing, sharing an umbrella.
Ella looked down at the contract one last time.
**Signature of Miss Ella Morgan: ___________________**
**Date: ___________________**
**Time: ___________________**
She didn't sign it. Not yet. But she slipped the contract carefully back into the folder, paid for her cold coffee, and stepped out into the rain.
She had eight hours until midnight.
Eight hours to decide if she could sign a contract that paid her three million dollars to get married—but would cost her everything if she ever fell in love.
As Ella walked through the rain toward the subway station, her phone buzzed one more time.
A text from an unknown number. Not Rakim this time.
'The car will pick you up at your apartment at 11 PM. Be ready. -Dominic Blackwood '
Dominic Blackwood.
He wasn't giving her until midnight to decide. He was giving her until 11 PM to be ready to sign.
The clock was ticking faster than she thought.
Ella looked up at the sky, rain streaming down her face, and wondered if she was about to make the best decision of her life or the worst.
Only time would tell.