Chapter 2 – Unwritten Clauses
The elevator doors sealed with a soft hush behind her. Elara barely registered the polished brass as her reflection flickered in the mirrored walls. Her pulse still hadn't settled—not after the way Lucian Draven had stared at her like she was a chess piece he'd already moved ten steps ahead.
The words echoed louder now than they had in his glass office:
"I want you to marry me. Temporarily. Contractually. No strings."
The nerve.
Her hands, clenched around the strap of her handbag, had started to ache. She'd walked into Draven Corp thinking she might negotiate a consultancy gig. Walked out with a proposal that wasn't romantic, yet somehow personal.
Outside, Aurelia City glittered under a late afternoon sun, casting long shadows on the concrete like secrets too proud to hide. A matte black town car waited at the curb, engine humming, door opened by a driver dressed like luxury had rules.
Of course Lucian had sent a car. Of course he expected her to get in.
She did.
---
At the top of the tower…
Lucian stood by the window, a crystal tumbler untouched in his hand. From this height, the city looked obedient. Like it bowed to him without question. It usually did.
But Elara Voss didn't bow. Didn't fidget. Didn't simper.
She questioned. She resisted. She'd looked him in the eye like she knew how to hurt if she wanted to.
That was precisely why he'd chosen her.
"She didn't accept," Brandon said quietly, entering the room.
Lucian's gaze remained on the skyline. "She didn't reject either."
"You're gambling with a woman who hates being told what to do."
Lucian smiled faintly. "That's the point."
Brandon hesitated. "What happens if she says yes?"
Lucian's expression darkened just slightly. "Then everything starts."
---
Back in her small but neat apartment, Elara sat on the edge of her couch. The silence in the room was too loud. Her phone buzzed once, the screen lighting up with a number she didn't recognize.
Unknown Number: [You'll have the terms before midnight. Read them carefully.]
No name. No context. But she didn't need one.
Her laptop sat closed on the coffee table like a dare.
She opened it. Slowly.
Inbox: 1 new message. Subject line: ["Draven Agreement: Terms Unknown."]
She stared at it, heart racing. Not out of fear, but something worse curiosity.
What kind of man put someone like her in this position?
What kind of woman even considered reading it?
Her cursor hovered over the message.
She clicked.
The document opened in silence. Six pages, sharp and clinical, like the man himself.
Elara's eyes skimmed the opening lines.
> This agreement is between Lucian Draven (hereafter referred to as "the principal") and Elara Voss ("the party") for a contractual, legally binding marriage for the period of twelve months...
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She scrolled.
Clause 3.2 – Shared public appearances as requested.
Clause 3.5 – Co-habitation required at principal residence.
Clause 4.0 – Physical intimacy not required, unless mutually agreed upon.
Clause 5.1 – Financial terms to be discussed post-acceptance.
She leaned back, eyes narrowed. Of course he wouldn't mention why he needed this arrangement. It was a business transaction. Cold. Empty. Convenient.
And yet… it felt like a storm was pacing just outside the walls of her chest.
A knock at the door yanked her back to the present.
She stood, barefoot, half-forgotten hoodie slipping off one shoulder. When she opened the door, she expected her neighbor's kid or a food delivery she'd forgotten ordering.
Not him.
Lucian Draven, dressed in a charcoal suit exuding a handsomenes she never noticed until now , making her tongue tied. She was to stunned that she didn't realize she was staring for longer than necessary. With him draped in confidence like a second skin, standing n the hallway of her modest apartment building, looking wildly out of place.
Her breath hitched.
"I don't recall inviting you," she said, arms crossing instinctively. Try to be on alert because she didn't like the way her body was betraying her. She knew was never one to loose focus or act our of place. But that was before this deal landed on her doorstep or rather the cold looking handsome but aloof man.
"I don't recall asking," he replied calmly.
She hated how he looked at her not with desire, not with charm but like she was an equation he intended to solve. Fully.
"How did you get my address?" she asked slightly alert.
"I own this building." he replied sounding like he was rebuking her earlier and maybe further questions if she had any.
Of course he did. She thought to herself.
Lucian stepped inside without waiting for permission. His gaze swept across the space. Books stacked neatly on the floor. A coffee mug with lipstick on the rim. A single framed photo of a girl with her arm around an older woman Elara and her mother. Smiling.
"You don't strike me as someone who signs contracts without reading the fine print," he said, turning toward her.
"I don't strike you as someone who'd marry a stranger either. And yet here we are." about to get into a complicated beautiful lie . She added the last part in her head.
Lucian tucked his hands into his pockets, cool and unbothered. "You want something. I want something. The details are negotiable."
"And if I say no?" she asked with her eye brow slightly raised
He stepped closer, the scent of crisp musky and woody cologne with cool money trailing behind him. "Then I'll find someone else. But I chose you for a reason, Elara. Don't flatter yourself—it wasn't romance." his lips curled up to the side in a sinister grin.
' oh this devil' she screamed to herself Something flickered in her chest. Pain? Pride? A mixture of both?
'Oh no' did she just feel emotiona for this cold and brutal person?
"And what exactly was the reason?" she scrunched her nose up in slight irritation
Lucian's jaw tensed. "Because you don't need me. That's exactly why this might work."
Her breath caught. 'The audacity and nerve of him!' The precision.
She felt like screaming and ending what ever lies they told the press already.
He walked to the door and paused. "You have until Friday."
Then he left, his presence lingering like a shadow she couldn't shake.
She felt as though he was too arrogant and she was angry. He already pissed her off!
Back in his penthouse...
Lucian pulled off his tie, dropped it on the marble counter, and walked to the window where the city glowed like a galaxy.
He should've walked away the moment she challenged him.
But that was the problem.
He hadn't wanted to.
Elara didn't sleep that night.
She read the contract again. Twice.
Constantly refreshing her laptop as though a new set of instructions for the contract would pop out of no where all of a sudden.
Her greenish blue eyes felt heavy and tired but she couldn't close them because her mind was busy .
She felt like her world was changing and she could do nothing about it. She waved her hand through her hair in frustration and her perfectly manicured nails scratched through her scalp.
She repeated this action something thing she did when she was in deep thought and right now she really was.
Twelve months. A set of appearances. A penthouse. Co-habitation. A six-figure "exit gift" written in careful legalese.
Lucian Draven wasn't asking for love. He was buying time for his busy schedule and private life which he loved. Cover from public and private poke nosers . Control over his expectant family.
She thought of her mother's hospital bills. The job she lost after calling out her boss's embezzlement. The rent due in three days. The stupid, painful end of her last relationship that left her self-esteem shredded in silk.
Then she thought of him. Lucian. Always composed, always five steps ahead, the kind of man who'd built an empire without once asking for help.
Elara didn't like being anyone's backup plan.
But she was tired of being the underdog.
---
Friday – 11:56 a.m.
The Draven Corp building was a mirrored monolith. Inside, the world felt colder. Sleek lines. Soft lighting. Smiles that didn't quite reach the eyes with fake compliments from cold hearts.
Lucian's office was unchanged. Wide, luxurious, and sun-drenched. The skyline stretched behind him like a crown.
He didn't look surprised when she walked in.
"Miss Voss," he said, not looking up from his tablet. "Four minutes early."
"I figured you'd appreciate punctuality."
"I appreciate precision more."
She dropped the signed contract on his desk. "Then you'll love this."
Lucian finally looked up. Their eyes locked. The tension wasn't heat—it was steel. It was challenge.
"You've read it all?"
"Every clause. Every comma."
"No questions?"
"Only one." She stepped closer. "What are you hiding that requires a fake marriage with someone like me?"
Lucian's eyes didn't flinch. But something shifted—just a shadow of emotion behind the control.
"I'll tell you," he said, voice low and calm, "once you've earned the right to know."
The arrogance should've infuriated her. It did.
This hot whiplash he had called his mouth that didn't spare anyone ..' ugh' she muttered
But some how it also intrigued her.
---
Later that day…
A courier delivered a sleek black card with Lucian's insignia embossed on the envelope. Inside:
> Formal Introduction Dinner – Saturday, 7PM.
Your stylist will arrive by noon. Let her know your preferences. The public will meet Mrs. Draven soon enough.
Elara stared at the message, fingers tightening around the edge.
She had just sold a year of her life to a man she didn't trust.
But maybe… just maybe… it would be the year that changed everything or was everything already changing?