Chapter 6 SIX

"You'll receive two million dollars upon completion of one year of marriage," Gerald said, sliding another document across the table. "If you agree to extend to two years, which we strongly encourage, that increases to five million total, with the additional three million paid at the end of year two."

Five million dollars. The number still didn't feel real.

"During the marriage, all your living expenses will be covered. Mr. Westbrook will provide appropriate clothing for events, and trust me, you'll need it. Society functions have strict dress codes. You'll also have access to a household account for personal expenses. Fifty thousand per month."

Lennox choked on nothing. "Fifty thousand a month?"

"For incidentals. Personal shopping, salon visits, anything you need." Gerald said it like it was a normal amount of money. "You'll be attending high profile events, Miss Rivers. You need to look the part."

She thought about her entire wardrobe that probably wasn't worth five hundred dollars total. About how she cut her own hair because salon visits were too expensive. About how different her life was about to become.

"There will also be a prenuptial agreement protecting Mr. Westbrook's assets," Gerald continued. "You'll have no claim to Westbrook Industries or any family holdings. The financial arrangement is strictly limited to the terms outlined in this contract."

"I don't want his company," Lennox said quickly. "I'm not trying to take anything beyond what we're agreeing to."

"We know. That's why you're here." Gerald's tone was kind. "Mr. Westbrook needs someone who'll honor the agreement and walk away when it's done. Someone who won't try to leverage the marriage into something more."

Someone desperate enough to agree but not ambitious enough to want more. The thought still stung.

"And when it's over?" Lennox asked. "After the two years?"

"Clean divorce. No drama, no public spectacle. You get your final payment and you're free to live your life however you choose. Mr. Westbrook has made it clear, this arrangement has an expiration date. No extensions beyond the required two years, no renegotiation of terms."

Two years of living with a stranger in separate bedrooms of a penthouse, pretending to be in love, and then walking away like it never happened.

"This is insane," Lennox said quietly.

"It's unconventional," Gerald agreed. "But it solves both your problems. You avoid prison and gain financial security. Mr. Westbrook satisfies his father's will and saves his family legacy. Sometimes unconventional solutions are the best ones."

Lennox stared at the contract in front of her. Pages and pages of legal language that basically said: give up your life for two years, live with a man you don't know, lie to everyone you love, and in exchange, everything gets fixed.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Detective Chen: Expecting you at my office tomorrow at 9 AM. Don't make me send officers to find you.

Tomorrow she'd be arrested. Or tomorrow she'd sign this contract and become someone's wife.

"When would this start?" she asked.

"Immediately. We handle your legal situation today, charges dropped, restitution paid, everything buried. Then you move into Mr. Westbrook's residence tomorrow. We announce the engagement by the end of the week and plan a small ceremony. You'd be married within a month."

"Can I meet him first?" The words came out before Lennox could stop them. "Before I sign anything? I need to at least make sure he's not completely awful."

Gerald checked his watch. "Actually, Mr. Westbrook should be arriving shortly. He wanted to meet you as well before moving forward."

Lennox's heart jumped into her throat. "He's coming here? Now?"

"This is a significant commitment for both of you," Gerald said. "It's reasonable that you'd want to meet each other first."

Right. Reasonable. Except nothing about this situation was reasonable.

Lennox tried to steady her breathing. In a few minutes, she'd meet Callum Westbrook. The billionaire whose company she'd been hacking, well, more like investigating. The man she was about to agree to marry.

This was either the smartest thing she'd ever done or the stupidest.

Probably the stupidest.

The conference room door opened.

And Callum Westbrook walked in.

He looked exactly like his pictures, which somehow made it worse.

Callum Westbrook stood in the doorway of the conference room like he owned it, which he probably did, along with the building and half the block. Tall, maybe six two or six three, wearing a suit that had definitely never seen the inside of a department store. Dark hair styled just enough to look effortless, sharp jawline, and eyes that were somehow colder in person than they'd ever been in photographs.

Those eyes locked on Lennox, and she forgot how to breathe.

"Miss Rivers." His voice matched everything else about him, deep, controlled, expensive. He moved into the room with the kind of confidence that came from never being told no. "I'm Callum Westbrook."

Lennox stood because sitting felt wrong, even though her legs weren't entirely steady. "Hi. Yes. I'm... you know who I am."

Up close, he was even more overwhelming. Not just handsome, lots of men were handsome. But there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he looked at her like he was cataloging every detail and finding most of them lacking. She suddenly became very aware of her well loved blouse and the fact that she'd washed her hair in the sink this morning because her water heater was broken.

"Please, sit." Callum took the chair at the head of the table, because of course he did. Gerald had quietly disappeared, leaving them alone in this glass box forty two floors above the city.

Lennox sat. Her hands were shaking again, so she pressed them flat against her thighs under the table.

"Gerald tells me you've reviewed the contract terms," Callum said. Not a question, just a statement. Like he already knew everything about this conversation before it started.

"I have."

"And you understand what's being asked of you?"

"Marry you. Live in your house. Pretend we're in love. Don't tell anyone it's fake." Lennox's voice came out steadier than she felt. "Yeah, I got it."

Something flickered across Callum's face, surprise maybe, or annoyance. Hard to tell when his expression was basically carved from stone.

"You're very direct," he said.

"You're paying me two million dollars to lie to everyone I know. Seems like we should at least be honest with each other."

His eyes narrowed slightly. Lennox couldn't tell if she'd impressed him or pissed him off. Maybe both.

"Fair enough." Callum leaned back in his chair, and even that looked calculated. "Then let me be direct as well. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more. I need a wife to satisfy my father's will requirements. You need money and legal protection. Those are the only reasons we're here."

"I know."

"I'm not looking for companionship or romance. I'm certainly not looking for love." He said the word like it tasted bad. "You'll have your own space, your own life within the bounds of the contract. I won't interfere with what you do as long as you maintain appearances when required."

"Sounds perfect." Lennox tried to ignore the weird hollow feeling in her chest. This was what she wanted, a clean transaction with no messy emotions. So why did hearing him say it out loud feel like a rejection?

"I attend approximately fifteen to twenty public events per year," Callum continued. "Charity galas, business dinners, family obligations. You'll accompany me to most of them. Gerald will provide you with appropriate clothing and brief you on expected behavior."

"Expected behavior," Lennox repeated. "You mean how to act like I belong in your world."

"Yes." At least he didn't pretend otherwise. "The media will be interested in us, particularly at first. My family is high profile. You'll need to be prepared for scrutiny."

Lennox thought about her Cipher investigations, about the servers she'd been inside and the financial records she'd traced. About how she'd be living in the same house as the CEO of the company she'd been hacking for eight months. The scrutiny from the media wasn't what terrified her.

"I can handle it," she said, hoping it was true.