Contracted Marriage to a Billionaire Stranger

(Eva's POV)

The video loaded like it knew I wasn't ready. But I watched it anyway.

Benjamin stood in my kitchen smiling with one hand in his pocket. Same smug tilt of his mouth. Same tailored jacket that probably still reeked of smoke and expensive betrayal. He leaned against the counter as if he owned it.... he owned me.

"Cute place, Eva." His voice was smooth and slow. "It's a bit small though. But I like what you've done with it."

I couldn't breathe.

The camera panned showing other parts of my apartment-my couch. My coffee mug still on the table. My sweater draped over the chair. My privacy is violated. I felt his eyes on everything, like he'd undressed the walls just to get at me.

Then he smiled.

That same smile from three years ago. The same I saw in court when I instituted assault case against him. The one I saw when he swore under oath that he didn't touch the money nor assaulted me

The video ended.

I dropped the phone with fear watching over me...

Camille's voice rang in my head- "You need to call the cops." But I couldn't. They didn't protect girls like me. Not from men like him.

And now this...

The contract.

The document is still open on my laptop. One click and I'd be agreeing to marry Alexander Hartman. The CEO. Cold-blooded. Rich enough to buy silence in bulk. He sent it to me for detail study before I decide whether to sign the contract or not.

A contract marriage. Twenty pages of legal terms that ended with my name and his.

"God," I whispered, dragging both hands through my hair. I paced back and forth in my small apartment that now felt like a crime scene. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to get out. Like maybe it was smarter than me.

Why now? Why Benjamin? Why Hartman? Hmmm...

There was a knock at the door.

I froze. Not again. Not tonight. Not-

"Eva?" Camille's voice, muffled through the door. "It's me."

I yanked it open. She stepped in, agitated with confusion written all over her face. "What happened?" she asked, reading my face.

"He was here."

Her eyes widened. "You're joking." I shook my head and handed her the phone.

She watched the video in silence, jaw tightening with every second. When it ended, she didn't look at me. She stared at the wall like she wanted to punch through it.

"Okay," she said. "This is messed up. He broke in, Eva. That's proof. You have to report-"

"No."

"Eva-"

"No." My voice cracked but determined. "He's not scared of police reports. He's not scared of anything Cam."

Camille took a breath, swallowed whatever argument she had loaded.

Then her eyes dropped to the laptop screen.

She read the name at the top of the contract.

"Alexander Hartman?"

I nodded.

Camille blinked. "That Alexander Hartman?" "The one with a building named after him on Fifth Avenue, hmmm."

"What the hell does he want with you?" I laughed. It sounded ugly. "Apparently a wife."

"For real?"

"Legally, for one year. No intimacy, no romance. Just signatures, public appearances, and a divorce clause."

Camille's eyebrows shot up. "Interesting! And why are you even considering this?"

I hesitated.

Because Benjamin was back.

Because I couldn't breathe in my own home anymore.

Because being Alexander Hartman's wife-even for show-might be the only shield left for me. I didn't say any of that. I just whispered, "Because it might be safer than staying single."

Camille sat down hard. "God!"

I joined her on the couch, curling my legs up. My head dropped back against the cushion. "I used to think survival was about running," I said. "Now I think it's about disappearing. Hiding in plain sight."

Camille stared at the laptop. "He's dangerous too, you know. Just a different flavor."

"I know."

"Then why not leave the city?"

"Because that's what Benjamin wants. For me to run." Camille didn't reply. The silence thickened.

I glanced at the contract again. There was a number at the bottom.

A contact.

A time: It was 4:30 PM.

"What if I just go?" I said. "What if I meet him?" Camille gave me a look. "Are you asking for permission?"

"No. Just... back up." She stood up. "Then I'm coming with you."

*****

Hartman's building rose like a monolith-glass and steel, cold and perfect. It looked like a place that ate emotion for breakfast.

We stood at the curb, both of us staring up at the skyscraper. "I hate this," Camille said.

"Same." We stepped forward anyway.

Inside the building, everything was marble and silence. The kind of silence that costs money. The woman at the front desk didn't ask my name-she just nodded as if she'd been expecting me.

"Penthouse," she said.

The elevator ride felt like a slow-motion. Camille gripped my arm.

"Are you sure?"

"No." The doors opened. And there he was.

Alexander Hartman didn't smile. He didn't offer his hand. No warm welcome. He just looked at me intensely.

"Eva Carter," he said, voice like frost over velvet. I nodded. "You sent a contract." He stepped aside to let us in. "You read it?"

"Every line."

"And?" I swallowed. "I have questions."

His jaw twitched. "Ask."

Camille hung back while I followed him into the penthouse. It was all sharp angles and clean lines but beautiful though. No warmth. No softness. Just like the man himself.

I sat across from him. He didn't sit.

"Why me?" I asked.

"You're discreet. Unattached. And Your background's clean. Above all, you know how to act in public."

"That's not an answer. That's a résumé."

He looked at me then-really looked. It appears as if he was calculating risks, not meeting a person.

"My father's dying," he groaned.

I blinked. That... wasn't what I expected.

"He wants to see me settled before he goes. And a wife definitely would make the company image cleaner. Smoother and Investors like that shit."

"So this is PR."

"It's leverage." He muttered. "And what do I get?"

"A safe house, more money than you'll need. And one year without Benjamin breathing down your neck."

I stiffened. "You know about Benjamin?"

He nodded.

"How?"

"I know everything about the people I hire." I flinched. "You mean hire like I was a staff?"

He added, "I know he's dangerous. I know the law's not helping. I know you're one step from disappearing completely."

Silence stretched.

"And if I say no?" I asked. "You walk away. I don't chase, but Benjamin will."

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling.

"Fu!k...This is insane." Camille snapped from where she sat.

I agreed.

And yet. My voice barely rose above a whisper. "What's the catch?"

He tilted his head. "No intimacy. No romance. But we appear together in public. You keep my secrets. I keep you safe. For one year. Then we vanish from each other's lives."

I stared at him. His eyes didn't flicker. He meant every word. And somehow, that made it worse. Because men like him didn't do charity. They did control.

Benjamin, my ex-lover was back. And I was running from him, running from his dangerous and inhuman treatment towards me. My mind was clucked with fear of the unknown.

My heart pounded. My voice came out raw: "I'll do it."

Hartman nodded once. "Then we begin tomorrow, I will send you an address and scheduled time for a brief meeting." And just like that, I sold my future to a man I didn't trust to protect myself from one I feared more.

Camille grabbed my hand the moment we stepped into the elevator. "Are you sure?" She asked.

I wasn't. But I said, "I think it's the only way to survive."

Down below, New York glared through the glass as if it knew what I'd done.

And maybe waiting to see who'd destroy me first...

Hartman.

Or Benjamin.