Cassidy sat alone in the corner of a luxurious Manhattan restaurant, an exclusive, quiet place with top-tier service. The simple black dress she wore looked elegant, but the swirl of emotions inside her made it hard to enjoy the ambiance. Andrew's message—Ezekiel Theodore Salvador's personal assistant—still echoed in her mind.
Zeke didn't even contact her himself. He sent his assistant. The message was short and transactional, just like the man she was about to marry.
Cassidy felt insulted. But she came anyway. Because this wasn't just about her—it was about family, reputation, and the future.
Not long after, Zeke entered. Tall, composed, authoritative. His gray Armani suit fit him almost too perfectly. He took the seat across from her and skipped any formalities.
"Cassidy," he said, his voice level. Then ordering a black coffee.
"Ezekiel," she replied just as coolly.
He exhaled. "Let me get straight to the point. Our marriage won't be about love. It's purely a merger between two powerful families."
Cassidy said nothing. She had expected this.
"I want us to function as partners. Not romantically, but as mutually beneficial companions. You are free to meet other people, as long as it doesn't make headlines."
he said, locking eyes with her, "but there can be no physical relationship. No intimacy. Not while we're still married."
Cassidy raised a brow. "That's a very specific clause."
"I don't care who you talk to," he continued. "But until we agree to a divorce, we respect each other's role in this arrangement. No scandals. No affairs."
"And after the divorce?"
"Then you're free to do whatever you want."
Cassidy raised an eyebrow. "So this is strictly a contract."
Zeke nodded. "And if one of us falls in love or wants to be with someone else, we divorce. Quietly. Cleanly. I'll give you everything agreed in the prenup."
He pushed a folder across the table. She opened it and scanned the terms:
Two billion dollars in alimony.
Two percent of Salvador Group's shares.
Several properties in New York, London, and Paris.
"If we divorce, you'll receive two billion dollars in alimony, two percent of Salvador Group's shares, and several properties in different countries."
He added, "If you want to add any terms, this is the time."
Cassidy stayed silent, processing. Then, with a calm voice, she asked, "What else do you expect from me?"
Zeke looked her in the eye. "Accompany me to social events when I need a date. Uphold our image. Don't embarrass the family."
Cassidy gave a slow nod. But something still lingered on her mind.
"And… what about my duties as your wife?" she asked quietly.
Zeke frowned. "I just told you—"
"Not that," Cassidy interrupted gently. She took a breath. "I mean... at home. Am I supposed to sleep with you? Satisfy you? Give you a child?"
A small smile played on Zeke's lips. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"
He took a sip of his coffee and answered with calm confidence, "Of course. I'm a man. I have needs. And if you're my wife, then yes—we'll sleep together. It doesn't make sense for me to go elsewhere when I have a wife at home."
She met his gaze.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we don't do anything," he said honestly. "This isn't a cage. You'll never be forced."
Cassidy didn't respond right away.
"As for children..." Zeke looked at her with a softer expression. "Let it happen naturally. I'm not demanding an heir from you right now."
Cassidy stayed quiet. But deep down, she felt a sliver of relief. She wasn't ready to be a mother. Not yet.
And just like that, the deal was struck. A marriage built on boundaries, freedom, and a very fragile kind of respect.
***
Present time.
A week after the divorce was finalized, Cassidy's phone rang. Her father's name flashed on the screen.
She hesitated for a heartbeat before answering. "Hello?"
"Cassidy," her father's voice was firm, commanding as always. "This Saturday, your mother and I are celebrating our wedding anniversary. Make yourself available."
She stayed silent.
"And don't forget to invite Zeke," he added.
Cassidy closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around the phone.
"I can't," she said calmly. "We're divorced."
There was a pause. Then—
"What?!"
Justin Calista's voice rose sharply, halfway to a shout. "You divorced him? Without telling me? You did this behind our backs?!"
Before she could respond, he snapped, "Come to the house. Now. We're going to talk about this."
He hung up.
Cassidy let out a deep sigh and tossed her phone onto the couch. She dragged herself to the bedroom, changed into something appropriate, and left her apartment. Her heels clicked against marble as she entered her childhood home—cold and overly quiet, like it always had been.
Teresa, her mother, was waiting in the living room with a worried expression. "He's in his study," she said gently.
Of course he is.
Cassidy offered her a tight smile, but said nothing. Her mother—always the quiet wife. The obedient one. Growing up, Cassidy had rarely seen her mother stand up to her father. Even when he scolded Cassidy for minor mistakes, Teresa stayed silent, watching from the sidelines with sad, helpless eyes.
Cassidy had grown to resent that silence. To resent her.
When she entered the study, her father didn't even look up from his desk.
"Why did you divorce Zeke?" he asked, blunt.
Cassidy crossed her arms. "Because we were no longer compatible."
He finally looked at her. "Did he ask for the divorce or did you?"
"I did."
Justin stared at her, stunned into silence. Then he leaned back in his chair, voice calmer but sharp as a blade. "What do you think makes a marriage last?"
Cassidy didn't hesitate. "Love."
Her father scoffed, shaking his head. "That's naïve. Love fades. Tolerance—now that's what holds a marriage together."
She stared at him.
"You think Zeke wouldn't cheat?" he continued. "Men cheat. It happens. You're his wife. That gives you everything. The house, the money, the power. Especially if you give him an heir. The legitimate child inherits it all. That's how this works."
Cassidy laughed bitterly. "You mean like Mom? Tolerating your affairs, staying silent while you humiliated her in front of us? Look what that did to her—she used to be vibrant. She came from a respected family. And now she barely speaks, avoids confrontation, and walks like she's afraid of her own shadow."
Justin's face turned red. "Watch your mouth."
"No," Cassidy said, voice rising. "I won't. I won't live like her. I won't be a woman who gives up her entire identity to keep a man's ego intact."
Her father stood up sharply, pointing toward the door. "You're ungrateful. Disrespectful. A disgrace to this family!"
Cassidy's jaw clenched. "And I pray someday Mom finds the courage to leave you too."
"Get out!" he bellowed. "Now!"
She turned without another word. But when she stepped into the hallway, she saw Teresa standing there, frozen. Her face pale, eyes wide. She must've heard every word.
Their eyes met.
Cassidy didn't say anything. She walked past her.
But just as she was about to turn the corner, she heard her mother call her name—soft, fragile.
Cassidy paused for a second.
Then she kept walking, leaving behind a house full of silence, regrets, and women who had once forgotten how to speak up.