BENEATH THE CONTRACT BRIDE

Emma Clarke pulled her fraying beige coat tightly round herself as she stood in the shadow of the approaching CrossTech Tower. The biting wintry gust gnawed at her cheeks, making them flushed pink. Her fingers, clutching a folder filled with rejections and incomplete story ideas, trembled at the cold and something more-the quiet desperation she would refuse to recognize.

At twenty-eight, Emma had fitted herself into a different mold. She had pictured herself basking in glossy bylines appearing in weighty magazines, but today she couldn't boast of that- running finish, writing fluff for an online tabloid while carrying most of her family's pressing financial burden.

Her father's voice rang in her ear from the night before. "Don't worry about us, sweetheart. You have done enough already."

But she hadn't done enough. Her father's medical bills spiraled out of hand; there were overdue tuition fees for her younger sister Sophia; and their family home was just a missed payment from foreclosure. Yet Emma fought with all her might, even though it felt like the battle was Lost on all fronts.

She adjusted her glasses and took in a deep breath. Staring up at the glass-and-steel goliath before her, cross-tech tower stood like a fortress, its glowing façade shimmering under the midday sun. Adrian Cross-the man at the very top of that empire was as untouchable as the tower itself.

Yet today, she had a meeting with him.

Inside the reception, it was signified by opulence. The marble floors shone, and great walls of glass overlooked a brilliant vista of the city's skyline. Emma felt slightly out of place in her scuffed boots and coat from the thrift store, but she straightened her back and walked confidently forward.

Emma stood before a statuesque receptionist with smooth blonde hair and an icy attitude, who looked at Emma and said nothing for judging Emma's condition. Then, after a brief phone call, she said, "Mr. Cross will see you now."

The elder woman's heart thudded when she followed the lady down a corridor and reached an elevator, which took her to the top floor. When the doors opened, she took a step into Adrian Cross's office-a sprawling space that was equal parts intimidating and impressive.

The man himself stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, silhouetted against the cityscape. Adrian Cross was entirely the enigma she had imagined: tall, broad-shouldered, and impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and his angular features could have been carved from stone. But it was his eyes that caught her off guard-piercing gray, sharp and calculating, as if he could see straight through her.

He turned, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Ms. Clarke," he said, his voice smooth and measured, with a faint undertone of amusement. "You're punctual. I appreciate that."

Emma had to will herself to cross the remaining distance to the desk, almost feeling as though her knees would buckle beneath her at that moment. "Mr. Cross," she managed, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

Adrian gestured to a chair across from his sleek glass desk. "Please, sit." She obeyed, clutching her folder like a lifeline. He lowered himself into the chair opposite her, his movements controlled and deliberate. They sat in silence for a moment, feeling the tension stretch taut between them.

"You probably wondered why I called you here," advanced Adrian at last leaning back in his chair. His tone sounded very casual but his eyes contradicted it by being anything but casual.

Emma swallowed once before saying, "Well, yes, I was surprised. We don't run in the same circles, so to speak."

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile which never reached his eyes. "No, we don't. But I've read your work, Ms. Clarke. You have a talent for getting to the heart of a story. And while your current position is... let's say, less than ideal, I believe you're capable of much more."

She blinked, startled. The idea that someone like Adrian Cross had read her articles let alone found value in them was almost absurd. "Thanks for the compliment, but I don't think you brought me here just to flatter me."

"Perceptive," he nodded. "I have a proposition for you."

Emma's brow furrowed. "What kind of proposition?"

Adrian folded his hands on the desk, his expression unreadable. "I need a wife."

Those words hung in the air, ridiculous and impossible. Emma stared at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry...what?''

A wife," he repeated as though they were talking about the weather. "A one-year temporary, purely contractual arrangement, after which I'll pay you sufficiently to wipe your family's debts clean and more."

Emma felt as though the ground had shifted beneath her. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I assure you, I'm quite serious." Adrian's gaze never wavered. "I have my reasons, none of which concern you. What you need to know is that this arrangement benefits us both. You need financial stability. I need someone who can play the role convincingly and discreetly."

Emma's mind was in a frenzy- the proposal was nonsensical, even immoral, but it beckoned financial salvation for her family. Her father's deteriorating health flashed in her mind. Sophia, who worked like hell to make it to college before being hit with a potential dropout.

"And why me?" at last, she asked.

Adrian's lips curved in a slight smile. "Because you're an outsider. Someone without ties to my world. That makes you less likely to betray me. And, frankly, I trust your intelligence and discretion more than anyone within my circle."

His words sounded a compliment but were rather a warning. Emma took in a shaky breath. "You're asking me to forgo a year of my life for this... arrangement. To lie to everyone I know."

"I am offering you a way to escape," was Adrian's cold reply, "but of course, you're free to decline. Just think about it before you do. What could that money mean for your family?"

The room almost felt like it was closing in on her. Emma hated the fact that he was right, like he could see straight to her weaknesses. She was almost embarrassed at herself for even thinking about it.

"What's the hook," she asked loudly.

Adrian's smile widened, though even as it did, it never reached his eyes. "There are always downsides, Ms. Clarke. But for now, all you need to know is that the contract is binding and discretion is non-negotiable."

Emma stared at him while she held a thousand confused, tempestuous thoughts. She wanted to say no; to walk out of this office and never look back. But the image of her father in his hospital bed, of Sophia studying late into the night, wouldn't let her.

"How long do I have to decide?" she asked.

Rising from his seat, Adrian towered over her and said, "Take the night to think about it. I need your answer by tomorrow." Raising a hand, Emma stood there for a second before taking it. He had a very firm grip, and his touch was warm against hers.

And now she was leaving that office, heart pounding, because she knew Emma's life would never be the same again. Adrian went back to the window once again, with a mild gaze now as the door closed behind Emma. He gazed at her as she walked across the plaza beneath him, her body rigid and her steps quick and very purposeful.

Different from the women he met most of the time. Ordinary in some ways, extraordinary in others. There was a fire in her: a determination that made it interesting for him. Adrian Cross was one who never believed in love or sentimentality. He lived in a world of strategy and control. The same went for the current arrangement. Emma Clarke was of help-a means to an end, in fact.

And yet, as he watched her disappear into the teeming sea of humanity, a small part of him wondered if he had miscalculated her so much. Because one of the things Adrian had learned in his ascent was that underestimating someone could be fatal.