'Can I talk to Uncle Paul?'
"Why do you want to talk to him, baby?" I asked gently.
"He promised he'd bring the big puzzle," she sniffled. "And he said he was going to teach me to draw better."
Paul had always been good with them.
"Uncle Paul is... away on a really long work trip," I lied. "But you can talk to me. Tell me what you drew today."
"I drew you, with big hair and a crown."
I smiled despite myself. "A crown?"
"Because you're a princess just like me."
Something in my chest softened.
"Well, that means I need to see it," I said. "You'll keep it for me, right?"
"Yes."
"And next time I come, you'll show me how you drew it."
"Okay… but you have to come soon," she added, her voice dropping again. "You didn't come today."
"I know," I said quietly. "I'm sorry. I've just been… busy."
"Busy like work?"
"Yeah. Like work."
"Then don't be too busy," she murmured. "I miss you."
My throat tightened.
"I miss you too."
We talked a little longer, about her friends, her siblings who were asleep, about what they ate, about a small fight she had with another child that she insisted wasn't her fault. I listened, responding softly, letting her talk until her voice grew lighter again.
As I ended the call and was escorting Naomi out of the building, she said unexpectedly,
"Remember that evil cafe you worked at? I watched you survive a lot there."
My gaze flickered slightly, a little unsure of what she was getting at.
"Remember how you got that promotion and they still tried to underpay you, and you stayed anyway because you thought quitting meant failure."
I nodded.
"I watched you build yourself from nothing. So whatever this thing is... just make sure it's not another situation where you're sacrificing yourself because you think you have no other choice."
By the time we said goodbye, I knew what I had to do.
–+–
The next day, I still went to work and tried to lose myself in filing, even though my mind kept drifting back to everything.
The intercom buzzed.
"Miss Onyx."
I stiffened slightly. "Yes?"
"Should I begin the wedding arrangements?"
He sounded too certain, like he knew I wouldn't refuse.
"I'd like to talk first," I said quietly.
A pause followed.
"Tonight. Eight o'clock. Dress... differently."
The line went dead.
'Dress differently? What exactly does he expect me to show up as?'
By the time the day ended, I felt more tired than usual.
–+–
Back at the apartment, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my hair. I ran my fingers through it, trying to make sure the silver strands at the ends didn't look messy.
I changed into a simple short black dress and stepped back into the living room.
I found myself pacing without thinking. I didn't have his number to tell him I was ready, and I didn't know if I should go back to the office that late to wait for him.
At 8:00 sharp, my phone buzzed.
[Unknown Number: Come outside.]
My brows pulled together. How did he get my number? I didn't have time to question it.
The drive to the location was suffocating. It was the longest twenty-five minutes of my life.
Darius sat beside me without a single word; he just stared at his tablet.
I shifted slightly, clasping my hands together to stop myself from fidgeting too much.
We got to the restaurant. Darius stepped out first and opened the door for me before his driver could.
I blinked, surprised by the gesture.
"Thank you," I said, stepping out.
It felt weird, a playboy doing something so traditional.
I glanced toward the corners of the building, then toward the parked cars across the street, half-expecting someone to suddenly step out with a camera.
"Problem?" Darius's voice came from behind me.
I shook my head quickly. "No."
I walked through the tall glass doors. The place was beautiful, soft lights, quiet music..It was exquisite.
"For the evening," a man said as he approached. "The restaurant has been reserved."
We followed him up the floating stairs to the second floor, and the view was incredible.
We took our seats across from each other.
The silence lingered, so I decided to say something.
"Mr. Crowne, I've—"
A waiter appeared almost instantly.
"I'll order," Darius said.
He spoke briefly to the waiter, ordering for the both of us. I wanted to protest, but the other part of me didn't have the energy to.
After we were done eating, Darius leaned forward.
"You wanted to talk."
I leaned back, my heart hammering.
"I read the contract."
"I assumed you would."
"There are things I don't understand, and I think I deserve to."
"You do," he said simply.
That threw me off a little.
"Why me?" I asked. "You could have chosen anyone."
"You won't attract the wrong kind of attention."
'What does that even mean?'
"And that's it?" I asked softly.
"I like your hair. It's Indelible."
"That's your reason?" I asked, unsure if he was serious.
He didn't smile.
Before I could think of what to say, he continued,
"My public image needs adjusting... temporarily," he said without a hint of shame. "A wife helps with that. The rest isn't something I discuss."
I nodded slowly. In a way, that made sense.
I hesitated, then asked him the question that had been sitting at the back of my mind.
"Do you even believe in marriage?"
"I don't see how belief is relevant to this."
I stared at him expectantly.
"Marriage ruins people," he said flatly. "It creates expectations no one keeps."
I blinked. "That's... a stra..strong thing to say."
"It's accurate."
Something about the way he said it made me not want to ask more.
I looked down at my hands, then back at him.
"There's one more thing," I said quietly.
He waited.
"The clause about not seeing anyone else throughout the duration of our... pact. No relationship, no anything."
"Yes."
"That applies to me."
"Yes."
"What about you?"
He didn't respond immediately.
So I continued, my voice softer now.
"That condition… does it apply to you too?"