The Marriage Clause

Chapter 9

Adrian's POV:

I had seen beautiful women before, but Vivian standing in the ballroom of the Dorchester was something else entirely.

Her emerald gown draped down her back like liquid silk, revealing the delicate line of her spine while giving her an undeniable presence that commanded the attention of every single person in the room. The diamond earrings glittered against her pale skin, she didn't just look like corporate royalty—she looked regally unbreakable.

And yet, watching Julian Vandy pull her onto the dance floor, something tight and uncomfortable twisted in my chest.

I stood near the edge of the terrace, my fingers tightening around my glass. Vandy’s hand had slid down her waist, settling far lower than was respectful, his posture possessive and slick. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to cross the floor, grab him by the collar, and pull her away.

I hated seeing his hands on her.

I wasn't the jealous type. I didn't believe in trying to control women under the guise of "protecting" them—and Vivian certainly didn't need a knight in shining armor. She was a brilliant, formidable woman who could tear a man apart with three words and a glare. She didn't need saving.

Still, knowing she was enduring that insufferable man made my jaw clench.

My mind was still reeling from everything that had unfolded over the last hour. Learning about Victoria Matthews’ marriage clause had felt like a sudden blow to the chest. Two months. She had less than sixty days to find a husband, or the father who had betrayed her mother would walk in and take everything she had bled to protect.

And Richard... God, the way he and his family had spoken to her. The utter lack of warmth, the cruel, gloating satisfaction in his eyes as he reminded her of the deadline. He didn't treat her like a daughter. He treated her like an obstacle standing between him and a fortune.

As I watched her stand tall against them, refusing to shed a single tear, a profound, aching sadness settled deep inside me.

She was truly lonely in this world.

Behind the sharp suits, the unyielding composure, and the billion-pound empire, Vivian was completely alone, fighting off vultures without a single person on her side to lean on. It hurt me more than I cared to admit. She was a remarkable, wonderful woman—someone who deserved to be cherished, respected, and genuinely loved. Not bartered off in some corporate transaction to save her legacy.

"You look terribly serious for a black-tie event," a soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to find a blonde woman in a navy dress smiling up at me. I recognized her as one of the junior directors from our partner firm in Zurich.

"Just taking in the atmosphere," I replied, forcing a polite, easy smile.

"Well, you shouldn't be standing alone," she said, stepping closer and offering her hand. "Would you like to dance, Mr. Rossi?"

"I'd be delighted," I said smoothly, letting her lead me toward the outer edge of the dance floor.

We began a simple step, but my attention remained hopelessly split. Over my partner's shoulder, my eyes instinctively searched for Vivian.

She was still trapped in Vandy’s hold, but her head was slightly turned in my direction. Her dark eyes locked onto mine across the crowded floor. There was no glare, no corporate mask, no armor. Just a quiet, subtle shift in her expression.

It was as though her eyes were silently calling for me.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of heat rushed through my veins. I didn't know what came over me, but the moment the song ended, I didn't hesitate.

"Please excuse me," I said politely to my dance partner, giving her a brief, respectful nod. "There's something I need to attend to."

Without waiting for a response, I cut straight through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, moving with deliberate purpose until I stopped right beside Vandy and Vivian.

Vance looked up, annoyed by the intrusion. "Can I help you?"

I completely ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed entirely on Vivian. I offered her my hand, bowing my head slightly.

"May I have the next dance, Ms. Matthews?"

A soft, almost imperceptible sigh of relief escaped her lips. She didn't pause for a fraction of a second before pulling her hand away from Vandy's grip and placing her cool, slender fingers in mine.

"Of course, Adrian," she said, her voice smooth and composed.

Vandy's face flushed with irritation, but before he could protest, I expertly guided Vivian away from him, pulling her into the center of the ballroom just as the orchestra began a new song.

A slow, haunting instrumental rendition of Taylor Swift's Lover began to drift through the grand hall, the strings sweeping softly above the murmurs of the crowd.

The moment Vance was out of earshot, Vivian leaned in slightly, her breath warm against my chest. "Thank you," she whispered. "You saved me from having to break his fingers."

A genuine smile tugged at my lips. "Consider it part of my job description, Ms. Matthews."

As the music swelled, I pulled her closer.

The magnetic pull between us was almost terrifying. Holding her in my arms felt entirely different from any professional boundary we had built over the past month. Her slender figure fit against mine with dangerous perfection, her back arching subtly as I guided her through the slow turns of the waltz.

She smelled incredible—a subtle, intoxicating mix of fresh jasmine, vanilla, and her own unique, warm scent that immediately invaded my senses. My eyes involuntarily dropped to her lips, soft, rose-tinted, and parted just slightly as she breathed.

God, she was stunning.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to lean down, press my thumb against her jaw, and kiss her right there beneath the crystal chandeliers. My chest hammered against my ribs, the sheer proximity of her making my head spin. But I forced myself to hold back. I was her assistant. She was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. The last thing she needed was me crossing lines.

I swallowed hard, clearing the roughness from my throat as I looked down into her dark eyes.

"If Julian Vandy isn't the right guy," I asked softly, keeping my tone light despite the thunderous beat of my heart, "how exactly are you planning to find yourself a husband in two months?"

Vivian met my gaze, her expression unreadable for a long moment. She didn't pull away. She didn't blink.

"That, Mr. Rossi," she said evenly, her voice dropping to a low, murmur, "is going to be your new assignment. Find me a husband."

I froze in the middle of the dance floor, my feet momentarily stalling as her words sank in.

Find her a husband.

A bitter, almost tragic sense of irony washed over me as the music softly faded around us.

Here I was, standing in the middle of a ballroom, holding the only woman who had completely undone me, desperately trying to hide the fact that I was falling for her—and she had just tasked me with handing her over to another man.