The next day, I found myself pacing in my tiny studio, staring at my unfinished painting. "Lara, focus!" I muttered to myself. But in my mind, all I could think about was Ethan Rivera. His words, his eyes… they had a strange effect on me.
Sophie barged in, coffee in hand. "So… did you call him back?" she asked with a mischievous grin.
"Of course not!" I protested, though my voice lacked conviction.
"Laraaa… admit it. You're curious. You want to see if the guy is serious, right?"
I groaned. "Fine. I'll meet him. But just to discuss the terms. Nothing else. Business only."
When I entered Ethan's office again, I felt a strange mix of nerves and excitement. He looked even more… commanding today.
"Ms. Mendoza," he greeted. "Thank you for coming back."
I set my bag down and sat across from him. "Alright, let's get this straight. You want me to enter a contract marriage. I need details: duration, responsibilities, boundaries… everything."
Ethan leaned back, fingers steepled. "One year. We live separately. Public appearances only when necessary. Financial compensation… negotiable."
"Wait. We live separately?" I raised an eyebrow. "So… why even pretend to be married if we won't even—"
"Because appearances matter," he interrupted, calm but firm. "But if you insist, we can live together during the contract. Some situations require a spouse, even if temporary. Business deals, family expectations… it's easier if people believe I'm married."
I crossed my arms. "And if people ask about… feelings?"
Ethan's gaze softened for a moment. "We'll keep it professional. No personal attachments. That's part of the contract."
I scribbled notes quickly. "Alright… that seems… manageable. But what about privacy? Social media? And… uh, events?"
He smiled faintly, almost teasing. "We'll create a detailed agreement. Every scenario covered. Think of it as a business contract, with emotions removed."
I laughed nervously. "Easier said than done."
He leaned forward. "I'm serious, Lara. I don't want misunderstandings. Everything will be clear—rules, limits, boundaries."
As he handed me a draft of the contract, I felt the weight of reality. One year. Fake marriage. Public appearances. Emotional boundaries. But deep inside, I knew… no matter how much I wanted to stay logical, a part of my heart wasn't satisfied.
"You'll have 24 hours to decide," Ethan said, standing. "I understand this is a lot. Take your time."
I nodded, clutching the papers. His presence lingered, even after he walked toward the door. And as he left, my heart… betrayed me.
Sophie raised an eyebrow when I got home. "Well? Decision?"
"Not yet," I muttered, staring at the contract. "But… something tells me this isn't going to be just business."
That night, I lay in bed with the contract on my lap. One year of pretending. One year of following rules. But the thought of Ethan… made my pulse race. And I couldn't deny it—deep down, curiosity was stronger than fear.
Little did I know… signing that paper would be the start of a year that would change everything—my art, my heart, and my life forever.