The morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer white curtains of Ivy Anderson's bedroom, casting a golden glow across the polished wooden floor. The city outside had already begun its usual rhythm—cars honking, people rushing, life moving forward without pause. But inside her room, time felt strangely still.
Ivy sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers tightly gripping the edges of a neatly folded document. The contract.
It had arrived late last night, delivered personally by Carter Wood's assistant. No explanation. No conversation. Just a file, sealed with authority and expectation.
She had barely slept.
Her eyes moved across the first page again, even though she had memorized every word.
A contractual marriage agreement between Ivy Anderson and Carter Wood.
The words felt unreal, almost like a scene from someone else's story. Not hers. Never hers.
She exhaled slowly, placing the document beside her before standing up. Today, she had work at the hospital. Lives to save. Responsibilities that didn't allow emotional distractions.
Yet, her mind refused to cooperate.
Carter Wood.
The name alone carried weight. Power. Influence. As the youngest Finance Minister, he was known not just for his intelligence but for his cold, calculated decisions. People admired him, feared him, and spoke about him in hushed tones.
And now… he wanted to marry her.
Not out of love.
But through a contract.
---
The hospital was as busy as ever.
Machines beeped rhythmically, nurses moved quickly between rooms, and doctors spoke in urgent, hushed voices. Ivy stepped into her role seamlessly, her white coat flowing behind her as she walked with purpose.
For a few hours, she managed to forget everything else.
Patients came first.
Always.
But even in the middle of checking reports and attending emergencies, her thoughts drifted back to that document. To Carter. To the unanswered question that lingered like a shadow.
Why her?
"Ivy?"
Her colleague, Dr. Rhea Sharma, nudged her lightly. "You've been staring at that file for five minutes. Everything okay?"
Ivy blinked, pulling herself back to reality. "Yes… just a little tired."
Rhea raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You? Tired? That's new."
Ivy forced a small smile. "Long night."
Rhea didn't push further, but the concern in her eyes didn't go unnoticed.
---
By the time her shift ended, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Ivy stepped out of the hospital, inhaling the fresh evening air as if it could clear her thoughts.
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
"We need to talk. 7 PM. The Grand Meridian Hotel."
No name.
No signature.
But she didn't need one.
It was him.
Her grip tightened around the phone.
For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Walking away. Pretending none of this existed.
But something deep inside her knew—this wasn't something she could avoid.
Not anymore.
---
The Grand Meridian Hotel stood tall and imposing, its glass exterior reflecting the city lights like a mirror of luxury and power. Ivy hesitated at the entrance, feeling slightly out of place in her simple attire.
This wasn't her world.
But she walked in anyway.
The lobby was breathtaking—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and an air of quiet sophistication. People dressed in elegance moved around, their voices low and controlled.
And then she saw him.
Carter Wood.
He stood near the far end of the lobby, his presence unmistakable. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he looked exactly like the man people described—sharp, composed, and distant.
His eyes met hers.
For a brief second, everything else faded.
There was no smile on his face. No warmth. Just a calm, unreadable expression.
He walked towards her.
Each step steady. Confident.
"Ivy Anderson," he said, his voice deep and controlled.
She straightened slightly. "Carter Wood."
A pause.
Not awkward.
But heavy.
"You received the contract," he stated, as if it were a fact that needed no confirmation.
"Yes."
"And?"
Ivy held his gaze. "I have questions."
Something flickered in his eyes—approval, perhaps.
"Good," he said. "I prefer clarity over blind agreement."
He gestured towards a private seating area, and they both sat down, facing each other across a small table.
"Ask," he said simply.
Ivy didn't hesitate.
"Why me?"
Straightforward.
Direct.
Exactly how he seemed to prefer.
Carter leaned back slightly, studying her as if analyzing every detail.
"Because you are exactly what I need."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It does," he replied calmly. "You're respected. You come from a stable family. You have no scandals attached to your name. And most importantly—you are not interested in power."
Ivy frowned. "And that makes me suitable for a contract marriage?"
"Yes."
The simplicity of his answer irritated her.
"So this is just… convenience?" she asked.
"In a way."
She let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "You're asking me to marry you like it's a business deal."
"That's because it is."
Silence settled between them.
Ivy looked at him carefully, trying to understand the man sitting in front of her. There was no hesitation in his words. No emotional conflict.
Just certainty.
"What do you gain from this?" she asked.
"A stable public image," he replied. "And a partner who won't interfere in my work."
"And what do I gain?"
His gaze didn't waver.
"Security. Influence. And the freedom to continue your career without interference."
She crossed her arms. "I already have that."
"Not at my level."
The confidence in his tone was undeniable.
For a moment, Ivy felt a flicker of anger.
"You assume a lot," she said.
"I deal in facts, not assumptions."
Their eyes locked again.
This time, the tension was different.
Stronger.
"You haven't asked about the conditions," Carter added.
"I read them."
"And?"
"I don't like them."
That caught his attention.
"Which part?"
"All of it," she replied honestly. "A marriage without emotions. Without expectations. Without… anything real."
"That's the point."
Ivy shook her head slightly. "Then why not marry someone from your own circle? Someone who understands this world?"
"I don't trust them."
The answer came instantly.
Without hesitation.
And for the first time, there was something real in his voice.
A hint of truth.
That surprised her.
"You trust me?" she asked quietly.
Carter looked at her for a long moment before speaking.
"I trust that you won't pretend."
Her breath caught slightly.
That was… unexpected.
---
The conversation continued, moving from questions to conditions, from doubts to possibilities.
By the time they stood up to leave, Ivy's mind was more conflicted than ever.
This wasn't just a proposal.
It was a turning point.
A decision that could change everything.
"Take your time," Carter said as they walked towards the exit. "But don't take too long."
She looked at him. "Why?"
"Because some decisions lose value with delay."
Typical.
Calculated.
Precise.
But as he turned to leave, he paused.
Just for a second.
"If you say no," he added, without looking back, "nothing changes."
And then he walked away.
Leaving her standing there.
Alone.
With a contract that suddenly felt heavier than before.
---
That night, Ivy sat by her window, the city lights reflecting in her eyes.
Her mind replayed every word.
Every expression.
Every moment.
This wasn't just about a contract.
It was about stepping into a world she had never wanted.
A world where emotions were secondary.
Where relationships were… negotiated.
She looked at the document again.
Her fingers traced the edge of the paper.
And for the first time, she didn't feel just confusion.
She felt curiosity.
Maybe even… something else.
Something she couldn't quite name.
The night grew deeper.
The city quieter.
And somewhere between logic and emotion, Ivy Anderson found herself standing at the edge of a decision that could redefine her life.
She just didn't know yet…
Which side she would choose.