Chapter 2

The contract had been simple.

Five years ago, I was nobody—a culinary school dropout drowning in my mother's medical debt. Harrison Blake needed a wife to satisfy the morality clause in his grandfather's will: marry before thirty or lose controlling shares of Blake Industries.

He didn't want love. He wanted a signature.

His lawyers found me through a debt agency. The offer: five years of marriage, full medical coverage for my mother, and a settlement of three million at the end.

The rules were clear:

No public affection unless cameras required it.

No entering his private study.

No questioning his personal life.

And above all—no falling in love.

I broke the last rule in the first year.

It happened slowly, then all at once. The way he'd leave his reading glasses on the kitchen counter. The way he'd pause outside the twins' nursery at night, listening, before walking away. The rare, unguarded moments when exhaustion cracked his armor and I'd glimpse someone almost human underneath.

Sophia and Eloise weren't biologically mine—they were born via surrogate using Harrison's DNA and an anonymous donor before our marriage. But from the first night they were placed in my arms, screaming and red-faced, I was theirs.

I was the one who memorized their allergies. Who knew Sophia couldn't sleep without her stuffed rabbit and Eloise needed the hallway light on. Who sat in emergency rooms at 3 AM while Harrison was in Tokyo, in London, in Vivienne's apartment.

His mother, Margaret Blake, made sure I never forgot my place.

"You're the help, dear. Dressed-up help, but help nonetheless."

"The girls need a real mother figure. Someone from our world. Not a girl who was bought off a debt ledger."

She'd say this while sipping tea I had brewed, in a house I kept immaculate, wearing a smile I had perfected through years of swallowing poison.

And now it was over.

The morning after the gala, I sat at the kitchen island with the contract spread before me. Section 14, Clause 3: Upon completion of the five-year term, either party may terminate without cause. Settlement to be paid within 30 business days.

Today was day one of my freedom.

The twins came downstairs, still in pajamas.

Sophia looked at me, then at the papers, her eyes narrowing with the unsettling perceptiveness of a five-year-old raised among wolves.

"Daddy says you're leaving."

My chest tightened. "When did Daddy say that?"

"Last night. He told Grandma you'd be gone by the weekend." She paused. "He said Vivienne would move in after."

The words landed like stones dropped into still water. Each one sending ripples through everything I'd built.

Gone by the weekend.

As if I were seasonal décor being swapped out.

Eloise tugged my sleeve. "Will you still make us pancakes?"

I knelt down, brushing hair from her face, memorizing the constellation of freckles I had watched appear one by one over five years.

"You'll have the best pancakes," I whispered. "I promise."

I didn't say from whom.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Harrison appeared—immaculate, pressed, not a wrinkle or a feeling out of place.

He glanced at the contract on the counter. Then at me.

"You're up early."

"I have things to handle."

"About last night—" He paused, choosing words like a man selecting tools. "The speech was a business gesture. Vivienne's family is merging their tech division with ours. It was strategic."

"You don't owe me an explanation," I said. "You never did. That was the deal."

Something flickered across his face—irritation, maybe, or the faintest surprise that I wasn't arguing.

He was used to my quiet persistence. The gentle questions. The soft, searching looks I thought I'd hidden but clearly hadn't.

Not today.

"I'd like the settlement processed on schedule," I continued. "My lawyer will be in contact with yours."

He studied me for a long moment.

"Is this about the speech? Because if you're throwing away five years over a bruised ego—"

"Five years, Harrison." My voice was calm, but something beneath it had turned to steel. "I've earned every dollar of that settlement and then some."

"You got a wife who never complained, never demanded, never embarrassed you. I raised your daughters, managed your household, attended every soul-crushing family dinner with a smile."

"And in return, I got to watch you fall in love with someone else in real time."

His jaw tightened. "I told you the rules."

"Yes. And I followed every single one." I slid the contract toward him. "The contract expires at midnight tonight. I expect the funds transferred by end of month."

I turned toward the stairs to pack.

His voice followed me, low and edged.

"You'll walk away with nothing but money. No connections. No status. No safety net. The Blake name opened every door for you."

I stopped on the third step.

Without turning, I said:

"The Blake name was a cage, Harrison. I just didn't have the key until now."

"And for the record—I walked in with nothing. Walking out the same way doesn't scare me."

"What scares me is staying."