Chapter 4 Singed and Sealed

I didn't sleep that weekend.

Saturday, I sat with Mom during her pre-surgery appointments. She was nervous but hopeful, asking me a dozen times if I was sure the bills were paid. I lied and said I'd gotten a loan from my employer. She believed me because she wanted to.

Sunday, I walked through the city for hours, the contract in my bag, Adrian's note folded in my pocket.

By Monday morning, I'd made my decision.

I called Adrian at exactly nine a.m.

"Miss Carter," he answered, and I could hear the tension in his voice. He'd been waiting.

"I'll do it," I said. "But I have conditions."

"Name them."

"First, I want time with Lily before we tell her. She needs to get comfortable with me naturally, not have this forced on her."

"Agreed."

"Second, I want the truth about Sophia. All of it. If I'm going to be her replacement, I deserve to know who she really was."

Silence. Then, "Some of that truth is painful."

"I don't care. I need to know what I'm walking into."

"Okay," he said quietly. "You'll get the truth."

"And third" I took a breath. "This stays professional. We're business partners. Nothing more. I'm not sleeping with you just because we're married."

"That was never part of the deal, Emma." He sounded almost offended. "I'm not asking you to be my wife in that way. Just in name."

"Good. Then we have a deal."

"My lawyer will meet you today with the final contract. Where should he go?"

"The coffee shop where I work. Rita's Place on Fifth. I'll be there until three."

"Done. Emma" He paused. "Thank you."

The gratitude in his voice surprised me. "Don't thank me yet. I might be terrible at this."

"I don't think you will be." He hung up.

I stared at my phone, my heart hammering.

I'd just agreed to marry a stranger.

The lawyer arrived at noon with a leather briefcase and a professional smile. His name was Richard Chen, and he looked like he billed a thousand dollars an hour.

We sat in a back booth. Rita kept glancing over, her eyes full of questions I couldn't answer.

"Everything is in order," Richard said, spreading papers across the table. "Mr. Wolfe has already signed. Your signature here, here, and here."

I read through it one more time. All the clauses were still there. One year. Two million dollars. Divorce at the end.

But there were new additions. A section about Lily's care. Another about my privacy being protected. And a clause that made my throat tight.

Should Emma Carter wish to pursue education or career development during the contract period, all expenses will be covered by Adrian Wolfe, with no impact on final compensation.

He was giving me a future. Not just money, but opportunity.

I picked up the pen.

"Once you sign, there's no backing out," Richard warned. "Are you certain?"

I thought about Mom in her hospital bed. About Lily's smile. About Adrian's broken expression when he talked about his daughter.

"I'm certain."

I signed my name three times. Emma Carter, soon to be Emma Wolfe.

Richard witnessed the signatures, then pulled out another envelope. "Your signing bonus. One hundred thousand dollars. The rest comes after the wedding."

One hundred thousand dollars. Just like that.

"The wedding is scheduled for Friday," Richard continued. "Small ceremony at the courthouse. Just family and necessary witnesses."

"Friday?" My voice cracked. "That's four days from now."

"Mr. Wolfe wants this finalized before the custody hearing. Time is essential." He stood, gathering his papers. "Congratulations, Miss Carter. Welcome to the family."

He left me sitting there with a check for more money than I'd ever seen and a future I didn't recognize.

Rita appeared the second he was gone. "Emma Carter, what the hell was that?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't." I met her eyes. "I'm sorry. I wish I could explain. But I can't."

She studied me for a long moment. "Are you in trouble?"

"No. I promise. It's just complicated."

"Does this have to do with that man from last week? The gorgeous one?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Maybe."

Rita's eyes widened. "Oh my God. Are you dating him?"

Close enough to the truth. "Something like that."

"Emma." She grabbed my hands. "He looked like money. Serious money. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

No. Not even a little bit.

"I'm sure," I lied.

Rita squeezed my hands. "Okay. But if you need anything, you call me. Day or night. Got it?"

"Got it."

She walked away, and I felt like the worst friend in the world.

That night, Adrian called again.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"I signed. Your lawyer was very thorough."

"Richard's the best." A pause. "How do you feel?"

"Terrified," I admitted. "I'm getting married in four days to someone I barely know."

"Would it help if we got to know each other better?"

"Probably. What do you suggest?"

"Dinner. Tomorrow night. Just us. No lawyers, no contracts. Just two people having a conversation."

It sounded almost like a date. "Where?"

"My house. I'll cook."

"You cook?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "I have hidden talents, Miss Carter."

"Emma," I corrected. "If we're getting married, you should probably use my first name."

"Emma," he repeated, and the way he said it made my stomach flip. "I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

He hung up before I could change my mind.

I sat on my ratty couch in my tiny apartment and tried to picture it. Dinner with Adrian Wolfe. A real conversation. Getting to know the man I'd be married to for a year.

It felt impossible and inevitable at the same time.

Tuesday came too fast.

I left the hospital after visiting Mom and took the bus to Adrian's estate. He'd offered to send a car, but I needed the time to think. To prepare.

Margaret answered the door again, her smile warm. "Emma, dear. Come in. Mr. Wolfe is in the kitchen."

The kitchen was massive, all gleaming marble and stainless steel. Adrian stood at the stove wearing an apron over his dress shirt, stirring something that smelled incredible.

"You're actually cooking," I said, surprised.

He glanced back at me. "I told you I would. Do you not trust me?"

"I don't know you well enough to trust you."

"Fair." He turned back to the stove. "That's what tonight is for. Wine?"

"Please."

He poured two glasses of red and handed me one. Our fingers brushed, and I felt that same electric jolt from our first meeting.

"What are we having?" I asked, trying to ignore it.

"Pasta primavera. Sophia's favorite." He said it casually, but I saw the tension in his shoulders.

"You're testing me," I realized. "Seeing if I can handle being compared to her."

"Maybe." He met my eyes. "Can you?"

"I don't know yet. Ask me at the end of the year."

A ghost of a smile. "Honest. I like that."

We ate at the kitchen island instead of the formal dining room. The food was delicious, and the wine relaxed me enough to start asking questions.

"How did you meet Sophia?"

Adrian's expression shuttered, but he answered. "College. She was studying art history. I was in business. We met at a party, and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

"Love at first sight?"

"Something like that." He sipped his wine. "She was everything I wasn't. Creative, spontaneous, warm. I was methodical and cold. She balanced me."

"What happened?"

"Life." He set down his glass. "I built my company. She wanted to travel, to paint, to be free. I gave her everything except time. And then Lily came, and Sophia felt trapped. We fought more. Loved each other less."

The pain in his voice was real. Raw.

"The night she died," I said carefully. "What were you fighting about?"

Adrian stood abruptly, walking to the window. "She wanted a divorce. Said she couldn't do it anymore. The marriage, the life I'd built for us. She wanted out."

"And you said no?"

"I said we could fix it. That I'd change. Work less, be home more." His hands clenched. "She said it was too late. Then she got in her car and drove away. Three hours later, the police called."

The guilt on his face was devastating.

"You think if you'd let her go, she'd still be alive," I said quietly.

"I know she would be." He turned to face me. "I killed her, Emma. Maybe not with my hands, but with my selfishness. Her family is right to hate me."

I stood and walked to him. "It was an accident. You didn't make her drive that night."

"Didn't I?" His eyes were dark with pain. "I couldn't let her go. Couldn't accept that I'd failed. And now Lily asks why Mommy left, and I have to lie and say it wasn't her fault. When the truth is, it was mine."

Without thinking, I touched his arm. "Adrian. You can't carry that forever."

He looked at my hand on his arm, then at my face. "You sound like you understand."

"My dad died when I was sixteen," I said. "Car accident too. We'd fought that morning about something stupid. The last thing I said to him was 'I hate you.' Then he was gone, and I never got to take it back."

Understanding passed between us. We were both drowning in guilt we couldn't escape.

"I'm sorry," Adrian said softly.

"So am I."

We stood there, close enough that I could feel his warmth, see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes. For a second, I thought he might kiss me.

Instead, he stepped back. "We should keep this professional. Like you said."

Right. Professional. That was the deal.

"Of course," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

The rest of dinner was quieter. We talked about safer things Lily's favorite foods, the schedule for the wedding, what I should pack when I moved in.

Moved in. To this house. With this man.

It didn't feel real.

When the car took me home that night, I stared at the contract in my bag and wondered if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.

But when I checked my bank account and saw the hundred thousand dollars sitting there, when I thought about Mom's surgery scheduled for tomorrow, I knew I'd made the only choice I could.

On Friday, I would marry Adrian Wolfe.

And then I'd become someone else entirely.