HEARTS FIRE The CEOs contract marriage by Sonita

Sofia's Point of View

"I wouldn't bother to smile. You didn't come here to fall in love."

The voice of Josh Reynolds resonated through the boardroom. He didn't blink or move. He just looked at me like I was a problem he was already sick of dealing with.

I softly capped my pen and carefully put it down on the beautiful mahogany table between us. I looked him in the eye and said, "Good."

"I also didn't come here for a fairy tale."

I had practiced this moment so many times that I couldn't let my nerves show. Even if my heart wasn't steady, my hands were.

Josh looked at the contract and drummed his fingers on the table once. "It's only for one year. We both live in the same house and go out in public together. No cheating." His eyes went back to mine, but this time they were harder. "After a year, you'll take the part of the inheritance my father left me and leave."

I nodded. "And no questions asked."

He stopped there. Something flashed through those icy gray eyes. Doubt? Fun? I couldn't tell.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked. "The press, the attention, the lies?"

I grinned a little. "You think I haven't had it worse?"

He didn't have to answer. We both realized that the agreement had nothing to do with love.

For him, this contract was a business deal. He had to marry a woman for one year to inherit his father's unpleasant legacy, which included some outrageous terms.

For me? This contract was to take revenge on him from within.

He took a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his name with the smooth ease of someone who is used to signing away life.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Reynolds," he remarked as he slipped the contract towards me.

"Thanks," I said softly as I picked up the folder.

Josh got up. I did too. It was too quiet for the noise my chair made when I moved it. He was taller than I had expected him to be. His presence was both broader and taller than I had anticipated. His presence effortlessly expelled the air from the room. He looked as if money defined his appearance, rather than the other way around. He was wearing a well-tailored black suit, a silver watch, and expensive perfume that filled the room.

I turned around and left to escape him before I revealed any signs of anger building up inside me.

"Hold on" His voice halted me abruptly.

I looked over my shoulder. His jaw was stiff. "You'll move in tonight."

"Tonight?" I murmured, unable to hide my shock.

"We have something going on tomorrow. I need my wife to be with me." There was no room for dispute in his tone.

Yes, of course. He held a charity ball, sparked controversy, and penned gossip columns. His marriage was perfect, the deception must have started somewhere.

"I'll bring my stuff."

He looked at me for one more second. "And Sofia?"

"Yes?"

"Don't mistake this contract for emotions" A warning sounded like a menace.

I smiled at him just a little bit. "I wouldn't even think about it."

Then, with my heart pounding and a contract binding me to kill the man, I left the boardroom.

I held back my tears on the walk home. The smell of mildew and cheap regrets filled my shoebox flat when I arrived. Not when I put the last picture of my dad in a leather bag. And not even when I looked in the mirror and put on the expensive blue dress that would make me look like I belonged in Josh Reynolds's world.