Claire's POV
The word landed like a slap.
My breath stilled. "Consummated?" I repeated, wondering if I had simply just heard wrong.
It was so shocking that I couldn't even react to the fact that he had just mentioned that the payment would be a whopping 500,000 dollars.
That's way too much. I can't even comprehend. Is he being serious right now?. That would pay off the mortgage and even help me set my family up for good.
I'm starting to think this was too good to be true. Am I being tested?
"Yes." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes now. "This isn't just a contract on paper, Claire. Appearances matter. To my family. To the board."
My fingers curled into the fabric of my skirt. "So let me get this straight," I said slowly. "You're offering me half a million dollars to pretend to be your wife… and the other half only comes if I sleep with you. And did you say it was going to be a secret, why do I need to appear in front of the board?"
Silence stretched between us, heavy and deliberate.
"Not pretend," he corrected softly. "Be." he adds. "And no, I'm not asking you to sleep with me, when I said consummated, I meant in the eyes of my grandparents and the board. They need to believe that I'm married and we are genuinely together and happy."
"And be rest assured, they will be able to keep it a secret. For your sake, they would have to. I'll make sure to let them know that you're uncomfortable with otherwise"
And then he said something that made my stomach drop.
"We'll be living together."
I froze. Blinked. Sat up straighter. "Excuse me?"
"I said," he repeated, calm as ever, "we'll share a residence during this month. Easier for logistics. Make the contract… practical."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. My mind swirled. This… this was far more than I had signed up for.
The words hung in the air, and the room felt suddenly smaller.
"How sure are you that this would all conclude within the month, what if you're unable to conclude within the month?" I question, my voice is thin even to my own ears. This was beginning to blur altogether.
"I'll do everything in my power to ensure it ends within the month," he said smoothly. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "But if I'm unable…"
My stomach dropped.
"…we may have to extend the contract."
"What?" I shot back. "That wasn't the agreement. You said you could get it done within the month. You said—"
"Claire."
He cut in, calm, measured.
"I know what I said and I stand by it. However, looking at it now, given the time that has already passed. It seems…. unlikely."
And just like that, the line between business and… everything else became dangerously blurred.
The one-month contract quietly stretched into something indefinite.
That was where the real problems started.
By the time I got home, my mind was in a daze. The smell of my mum's cooking hit me as soon as I opened the door,warm and familiar but it did little to calm the storm inside my head.
I dropped my bag on the sofa and sank into it, still trying to process the conversation from earlier.
"Claire, darling" my grandmother says, as she approaches the living room, "Is that you?"
I forced a small smile. "Yeah, Grandma… it's me."
She settled into the armchair across from me, her eyes scanning my face. "You look tired, sweetheart. Rough day?"
I hesitated, unsure how much to say. "Just… a long day," I murmured, letting the words hang vaguely.
She tilted her head, studying me like she always did when she knew I wasn't telling the whole truth. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
I nodded, but the lump in my throat made me stay silent. How could I tell her? About the contract, the shared residence, the way I'd let myself get desperate enough to say yes? That was too much to put on her.
My phone buzzed. A group text from my friends.
I shoot her a small smile, "I'll be heading to my room, Ma. I have some work to finish off," I explained, grateful for the distraction.
"Alright, darling. Don't stay up too late," she said, heading back to the kitchen.
I let out a quiet sigh and picked up my phone. I head to my bedroom, falling down to the comfort of my bed.
I open the group chat messages.
Sxsha - 'Mr. Mystery Boyfriend? Spill!'
I groaned and typed quickly, guilt prickling at my chest.
Me - 'Okay… fine. It's about time I confess. I don't actually have one. I'm sorry for lying.'
Replies came almost immediately.
Abby - 'Claire! You didn't have to lie!'
Sxsha - 'We should have noticed you were hiding something.'
Abby - 'Gah, we're terrible friends for making you feel like you had to.'
I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting. "I just… didn't want to explain," I typed back.
Abby - 'We get it. Don't beat yourself up.'
Sxsha - 'Seriously, we're the bad ones if you felt you had to lie.'
Abby - 'Next time, just tell us, okay? You can trust us. We are so sorry.'
I smiled faintly, but the truth I wanted to tell them stayed locked behind my teeth.
The contract. The shared residence. The month-long arrangement. The desperation that made me say yes. I couldn't let them know. Not yet.
I typed another safe reply.
"Thanks, love you guys."
The phone buzzed with more hearts and laughing emojis, and I set it down.
Alone, the silence pressed in. My thoughts kept drifting back to him, his calm certainty, the way he had said 'mine' like it was the truth, the way the month could stretch into… something indefinite.