The sunlight came in through the floor-to-ceiling windows like it was trying to wake her before she wanted to be.
Amara sat cross-legged on the couch, a cup of coffee growing cold on the table beside her, the faint steam from it long gone.
Her laptop screen glowed faintly in the morning light.
"CONTRACT AGREEMENT BETWEEN TRAVIS ALDEN AND AMARA CHARLIE"
She'd read those words three times since last night. And each time, she'd found herself pausing on different details. The ones that revealed too much of his mind.
Clause 3.2: Both parties shall refrain from any public romantic entanglement outside the agreed marriage period.
Clause 5.1: Neither party shall claim emotional distress as a result of unmet expectations.
Clause 8.4: Termination shall be by mutual consent or upon completion of one year.
It was cold, precise, and legal, just as she wanted.
It read like something written by a man who didn't want to risk his heart, or maybe didn't believe he had one left to risk.
Amara leaned back, pressing her thumb against her temple. "You're really something, Alden," she murmured under her breath.
She clicked the next page, the incentive section.
A publishing firm of her own. Ownership. Full creative control.
Everything she'd once dreamed of was just placed before her, as if her freedom could be priced and packaged into a line item.
Her lips curved into a small, humorless smile. "You should've known I don't come that cheap." She knew this was a fair deal.
Her phone buzzed on the table. It was a text.
Travis Alden: 10 a.m. at the lounge. Bring your answer.
There were no emojis, no signature. Just that same clipped tone.
Amara stared at it for a moment, then closed her laptop with a soft click.
She didn't need to think anymore. She already knew her answer.
...….
The lounge was quiet at that hour when she walked in, half-empty, with muted jazz humming through the speakers and the low scent of roasted beans in the air.
Travis was already there.
He was impossible not to notice. He was reading something on his tablet,with one leg crossed neatly over the other, and his posture effortless. He was in a gray suit.
When he saw her, he stood. "Amara."
"Travis."
Her tone was even, cool, not unkind. Just unreadable.
He gestured toward the seat across from him. "Thank you for coming." He smiled at her.
"I promised I'd give you my answer."
She sat down, sliding her bag beside her, and folded her hands on the table.
The waiter came by, and she ordered nothing. Travis ordered another black coffee, as if he hadn't already finished one.
For a moment, they just sat there, staring at themselves. Two people who looked like they were meeting for business, not for something as absurd as marriage.
He finally spoke. "Did you read it?"
"I did."
"And?"
She leaned back. "You're thorough. I'll give you that. The clauses were... efficient."
"I prefer clarity," he said calmly.
"And I prefer honesty."
He blinked once, slow. "Meaning?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Meaning you want a wife to deflect rumors, to keep your inheritance clean. You don't believe in the institution. That's fine. But pretending this is anything else would be an insult to both of us."
Something flickered in his gaze... respect.
"You're right," he said after a moment. "It's an arrangement. Not a fantasy."
Amara's lips twitched faintly. "Then we understand each other."
Her heart squeezed lightly. She doesn't know if she was being cruel, since her main purpose of accepting this offer wasn't even the publishing firm, but her searching for a way to completely forget Elias.
Travis folded his hands on the table, his watch glinting under the soft light. "Do you have conditions?"
"Three."
His brow arched slightly. "Only three?"
"Quality over quantity," she said simply, drawing a slim notepad from her bag. She slid it across to him. "Read it."
He took it, scanning the page. His eyes didn't move quickly. He took his time with each line.
Her voice was quiet but firm as she listed them. "One, I won't live under your roof. I choose where I stay. You can visit for publicity when needed, but I don't move in with strangers. By the way, I don't really like New York. I prefer going back to London."
He looked up, but she went on before he could respond.
"Two, no interference with my work. My writing, my projects, and my schedule. You want me for the name and image, not control."
He leaned back, watching her carefully now. "And the third?"
She paused for a heartbeat, then said, "You don't get to ask me about my past."
That one landed differently. His expression didn't change much, but something in his jaw flexed.
"You think I'd pry?"
"I think you're curious," she said softly. "And curiosity ruins clean contracts. Just don't ask."
A long silence followed.
Then Travis smiled. "You're more than what I expected."
"So are you." She returned the compliment.
The waiter brought his coffee, setting it down gently. Travis reached for it, but didn't drink yet. He was studying her.
"I'll accept your terms," he said finally. "On one condition of my own."
Amara crossed her legs. "Let's hear it."
"You wear the ring. Publicly."
Her brows lifted. "Of course. Isn't that part of the show?"
He nodded once. "Good. Then we're settled."
"I haven't agreed yet," she said calmly.
He stilled. "You haven't?"
"I said I'd give you my answer," she replied, her voice slow, deliberate. "Not that it would be yes."
For the first time since she'd met him, Travis actually looked caught off guard. His fingers shifted around the cup.
She watched him, eyes cool but almost amused. "You really thought I'd just sign away a year of my life for a company?"
"I thought you wanted it."
"I do," she said, leaning in slightly. "But not if it means losing myself again."
He didn't know what that "again" meant, and she didn't intend to tell him.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, finally, he exhaled and said quietly, "Then tell me what you want, Amara."
The question was simple. Too simple.
But the way he said her name made her heart skip once, even though she hated that it did.
Her answer came slowly. "I want to see what happens when someone like you stops trying to buy things he doesn't understand."
Travis stared at her for a long moment then, unexpectedly, he laughed. Low, and genuine, the sound catching her off guard.
"Noted," he said quietly, setting his cup down.
He rose first, adjusting his suit jacket, then glanced down at her. "Think about it again. I'll keep the offer open until tomorrow."
Amara looked up at him, her voice soft but sharp at the edges. "Don't wait too long, Alden. It sulks being predictable."
He gave a small, knowing smile.
When he left, the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air.
Amara sat there for a while after he was gone, staring at the untouched cup in front of her.
She picked up the notepad again, tore off the page she'd given him, and looked at the faint imprint of her own handwriting.
Maybe she didn't know why she hadn't walked away yet.