Chapter 8 The Contract
The formal living room was designed to intimidate. All leather, glass and art. A man in an expensive suit sat on one of the sofas…young, Asian, professional. He stood when they entered.
“Marcus Chen,” he said, extending his hand. “Mr. Frost’s attorney.”
His handshake was firm. His smile was kind but Ariella didn’t trust him either.
“Please, sit.” Richard gestured to a sofa.
Ariella and her mother sat close together. Aiden took the chair farthest from his father, slouching like he wanted to disappear. Richard settled across from them, Marcus beside him with a leather folder.
No one spoke for a moment, then Claire broke the silence.
“Let me be very clear, Mr. Frost.” Her voice was steel. “I don’t know what you want from my daughter, but I’m not letting her sign anything without understanding every single word. And if I think you’re trying to manipulate her, if I think you’re taking advantage of our situation…we’ll walk out that door and you never contact us again.”
Richard’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. Respect, maybe.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Mrs. Hayes. It's not a game.” Richard leaned forward. “It’s a lifeline. For all of us.”
“Then throw the lifeline,” Ariella said. “Tell us what you want. All of it. No manipulation. No games.”
Richard studied her for a long moment. Then nodded to Marcus, who opened his folder, pulling out documents carefully. “ This marriage is going to be Legal but temporary. Lasting exactly three months through the summer, until the shareholder vote. You will live in this house, make public appearances together, and maintain the appearance of a genuine relationship. After the vote, the marriage would be quietly annulled.”
“You want her to lie,” Claire said flatly.
“I want her to survive,” Richard countered. “And I’m offering substantial compensation to make that possible.”
“How substantial?” Ariella heard herself ask.
Marcus slid papers across the table. “Immediate clearance of all debts associated with Hayes & Daughter Bakery currently totaling twenty-three thousand dollars in back rent, medical bills, business loans, and property taxes.”
“Twenty-three?” Claire’s face went white. “The eviction notice said eighteen…!”
“There are additional fees that weren’t disclosed in the notice,” Marcus said apologetically. “Collection agency charges on medical bills from…” He paused delicately. “From your hospital stay three months ago, Mrs. Hayes.”
” Ariella’s voice was sharp. “Keep going. Tell me the rest. All of it.”
Marcus continued, voice carefully neutral “In addition to clearing all debts, we’ll establish a medical trust fund for Mrs. Hayes. Therapy twice weekly, paid in full for three months. We’ll provide a full scholarship for Ariella to any university she chooses. And we’ll pay Miss Hayes a stipend of ten thousand dollars per month for the duration of the marriage.”
Thirty thousand dollars. Plus everything else. Plus a future.
The numbers should have felt like salvation.
Instead, they felt like a price tag on her soul.
“What would I have to do?” Ariella asked. “Specifically.”
“Live here,” Marcus said. “In adjoining rooms with Aiden, separate spaces with a connecting door that locks from both sides. Attend social functions as a couple. Grant interviews if necessary. Maintain the appearance of genuine affection in public settings.”
“Appearance of affection,” Claire repeated. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Holding hands, embracing, displaying appropriate romantic interest.” Marcus was read from the contract “Nothing beyond what would be expected of a newlywed couple.”
“You want her to pretend to be in love,” Claire said.
“I want her to help save ten thousand families,”
“That’s just manipulation with better words,” Claire said coldly.
“Perhaps.” Richard’s voice hardened. “But it’s also the truth. Your daughter has something I need. I have something she needs. That’s not exploitation, Mrs. Hayes. That’s survival.”
“It’s both,” Aiden said quietly. Everyone turned to look at him. “It’s survival that looks like exploitation.
“Aiden,” Richard’s voice was gentle now. “Son…”
“Don’t call me that right now.” Aiden stood abruptly. “Don’t pretend this is about love or family or protection. You’re manipulating us. The room went silent.
Then Richard nodded. “You’re right. I am manipulating you. Both of you. I’m using every tool I have; money, guilt, fear, and hope to make you agree to this. Because I’m dying, and I’m terrified of what happens to my children after I’m gone. Because I’ve spent my whole life building something and I can’t watch it get destroyed.” His voice broke. “Because I’m a flawed, desperate man who’s run out of better options.”
The honesty was somehow worse than the manipulation would have been.
“If we do this,” Ariella said slowly, “I want conditions. My conditions, not yours.”
Richard leaned forward. “Name them.”
“My mom gets therapy. Twice a week. Paid in full for a year, not three months.”
“Done.”
“The bakery renovations start before any public announcement. I want something solid for my family before this becomes a circus.”
“Also done.”
“And…” Ariella’s voice steadied. “Either of us can end this early. If it’s too much, if we can’t handle it, we can walk away. No penalties. No consequences.”
Marcus frowned. “Miss Hayes, the contract needs to last through the shareholder vote to…”
“I don’t care about your shareholder vote.” Ariella’s voice was steel now. “I care about not being trapped. About knowing I still have choices. So either you put in an exit clause or this conversation is over.”
Richard and Marcus exchanged a long look.
Finally, Richard nodded. “Two weeks’ notice. Either party can terminate with two weeks’ written notice. Fair?”
“Fair.”
“Any other conditions?”
Ariella looked at Aiden. He was staring at his hands, shoulders hunched, looking like he wanted to disappear into the chair.
“Yeah,” she said. “One more. Aiden and I are honest with each other. No matter what we tell everyone else, no matter what performance we put on when it’s just us, we’re honest. About how hard this is. About when it’s too much. About everything.”
Aiden’s head came up. His eyes met hers.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Yeah. Honest.”
“Is that acceptable?” Ariella asked Richard.
“More than acceptable.” Something that might have been hope crossed Richard’s face. “It’s exactly what I wanted for both of you. Honesty. Partnership. Maybe even…”
“Don’t,” Aiden interrupted. “Don’t say friendship.
“For now,” Richard said softly.
Ariella turned to her mother. “What do you think?”
Claire’s face was wet with tears. “I think this is impossible. I think it’s going to hurt you in ways neither of us can predict. I think you’re seventeen years old and you shouldn’t have to make choices like this.”
“But?”
“But I also think you’ve already decided. And I can’t stop you. All I can do is…” Her voice broke. “All I can do is be there. For all of it. The good parts and the terrible parts and everything in between.”
“Okay,” she said to Richard. “Show me where to sign.”
Marcus handed her a pen. Her hand shook as she signed her name at the bottom.
Aiden signed next, then it was done.
Marcus collected the contracts. Richard stood, extending his hand.
“Welcome to the family, Ariella.”
She didn’t take his hand. Just looked at him with something between pity and disgust.