The Ceo's Contract Wife

Chapter Seven: Evelyn's Dialogue

Eveline

The bus rattled and jerked as it hit another pothole. I grabbed the sticky handrail to keep from toppling into the lap of an elderly woman who shot me a suspicious look. Great. Just great.

My legs ached from standing for forty minutes while clutching that stupid folder of marriage contracts to my chest. The air conditioner had given up the ghost miles ago, leaving everyone inside the metal box sweaty and irritable.

Kind of like me.

Alexander Blackwell's face kept flashing in my mind—that moment when he'd looked at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"Riga?" he'd whispered making me wonder what the hell he meant. And then just as quickly, something in him had shut down. Like someone flipping a switch. He became cold and robotic. Sign here. Don't be late tomorrow.

"What is your problem?" I muttered, earning another glare from the elderly woman.

The bus jerked to a stop at my corner, and I stumbled out into the warm evening air. The walk home gave me time to rehearse what I'd tell Mom and Joseph.

Hey guys, good news! I married my boss today! At his gate! Without reading the contract! And he couldn't even look me in the eye!

Yeah, that would go over well.

By the time I reached our small house, my anger had melted into a strange mix of relief and dread. Dad's medical bills would be paid. The loan sharks would back off. But at what cost?

I took a deep breath and pushed open the front door.

Mom was at the kitchen table, sorting pills into Dad's weekly organizer. Joseph slouched on the couch, thumbs flying over his phone screen. Both looked up when I entered.

"Eve! You're back late." Mom's eyes went straight to the folder in my hands. "What's that?"

Joseph glanced up from his phone. "Let me guess. Your prenup with Mr. Mystery Man?"

I set my purse down with a thud. "Actually, yes."

The silence was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Mom's hands froze mid-pill-sort. Joseph's phone slipped from his fingers.

"You're joking," he said.

"Nope." I held up the folder. "Signed and official."

Mom stood slowly, her eyes wide. "Eve, honey... this is happening so fast. Are you sure? Who is he?"

I took a deep breath. "It's Alexander Blackwell."

Joseph let out a bark of laughter that quickly died when he saw my face. "Wait, seriously? Your boss? The ice king himself? I was joking yesterday!"

"Well, congratulations on your psychic abilities," I snapped.

Mom sank back into her chair. "Your boss? The one you said barely knew you existed?"

"Turns out he knew enough." I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice.

"But... why?" Mom asked. "Why would he want to marry you if you barely know each other?"

Because I'm convenient. Because he needs a wife to convince his grandpa. Because I was desperate enough to say yes.

"It's complicated," I said instead. "But it's a good arrangement. Dad's medical bills will be paid by latest tomorrow. All of them."

Mom's hands flew to her mouth. "All of them? But that's—"

"A lot of money. I know." I set the folder on the table and squeezed her shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Mom."

Joseph stood up, his earlier amusement completely gone. "This is insane, Eve. You can't just marry some rich dude you don't even know."

"I do know him," I protested weakly. "I've worked for him for two years."

"Yeah, answering his phones. Has he ever even had a conversation with you before yesterday?"

I winced. "That's not fair."

"What's not fair is you selling yourself like this!" Joseph's voice rose. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't." I met his eyes steadily. "I've tried everything, Joe. Everything."

Mom reached for my hand. "Eve, honey, we appreciate what you're doing. But your happiness matters too. Do you... do you have feelings for this man?"

I almost laughed. Feelings for Alexander Blackwell? The man who couldn't even look me in the eye today?

"It's not about feelings," I said carefully. "It's a practical arrangement. For both of us."

"What does he get out of it?" Joseph asked, eyes narrowed. "No offense, sis, but billionaires don't usually marry their receptionists without a reason."

"I don't know yet," I lied. "But I'll find out."

Mom squeezed my hand. "When is the wedding? Do we need to start planning? Oh goodness, I don't even have a dress—"

"There's no wedding," I cut in. "Just paperwork. It's already done." I tapped the folder. "I'm moving into his family's mansion tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Mom's voice went up an octave. "But that's so soon!"

"He's sending a car at nine." I tried to sound excited rather than terrified. "I should probably start packing."

Joseph shook his head. "This is wrong, Eve. I've got a bad feeling about this guy."

"It's not forever," I said, not sure if I was trying to convince him or myself. "Just until... well, I don't know exactly. But it's going to work out. I promise."

An hour later, I stood in my tiny bedroom surrounded by open boxes. What do you pack when you're moving into a billionaire's mansion? My faded jeans and department store blouses seemed laughable now.

I folded another t-shirt and placed it in the box, my movements mechanical. The reality of what I'd done was starting to sink in. By this time tomorrow, I'd be living with a stranger. A cold, mysterious stranger who looked at me like I was a ghost.

My phone rang, startling me. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Miss Lawson." His voice was clipped, businesslike. "I trust you've reviewed the contracts."

Just hearing Alexander Blackwell's voice sent a jolt of irritation through me. "Hello to you too, Mr. Blackwell."

A pause. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you had me sign marriage papers at your gate like I was signing for a package? Or that you couldn't even look at me? Or that you never explained why you need this arrangement in the first place?"

Another pause, longer this time. "Those details are in the contract."

"Which you didn't give me time to read!"

"You should know better than that Miss Lawson after all you are a....." He paused for some reason, making me wonder what he was about to say.

"Hello?"

"The car will pick you up at nine." He said instead in a tone that made it clear the conversation was ending. "Pack light. Anything you need can be purchased."

"Wait—" But the line was already dead.

I stared at my phone, frustration bubbling up. The man was impossible. Cold, arrogant, and apparently allergic to basic human courtesy.

And tomorrow, I'd be living with him.

I sank onto my bed, picking up my graduation photo. The girl smiling back at me looked so confident, so ready to take on the world. She had no idea what was coming. The mistakes she'd make. The trust she'd misplace. How quickly dreams could shatter.

I thought of Ryan, of everything that had happened after. How a single bad decision had derailed my entire life. And now here I was, making another questionable choice.

But this time was different. This time I was doing it for my family, not myself. This time I knew exactly what I was getting into—a business arrangement, nothing more.

I traced the edge of the photo frame. "What would you think of me now?" I whispered to my younger self.

Tomorrow I'd step into Alexander Blackwell's world of wealth and power. A world I didn't belong in. A world where I'd be an outsider, a contract wife.

But I'd make it work. I had to.

For my family. For Dad.

Even if it meant living with a man who couldn't bear to look at me.