đ Chapter 3
Fire and Ice / Echoes of Yesterday / The Contract / A House, Not a Home
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đĽ Scene 1: Fire and Ice
Bryant
The smirk wasn't a choice.
It was reflex.
Of all the gold-diggers circling this city like vultures, my grandfather picked her.
This woman who probably cried her way into his good graces.
I stared at her across the long mahogany table, disgust curling in my gut.
She wasn't even my type.
Nice figureâtiny waist, full chest, soft innocent look.
The kind most men drool over.
But me?
I don't like innocence.
I like women who know what they want.
Who meet your gaze head-on, not with eyes glued to the floor.
She sat there like a scared kitten.
Fingers clenched.
Shoulders tense.
I scoffed, poured myself a glass of wine, and drained it in one gulp.
The maids entered silently, placing trays of luxury and dessert.
Of course.
Grandfather wanted the evening to be perfect.
Perfectly unbearable.
They left.
Silence fell.
I'd had enough.
> "Hey," I said sharply. "What's your name?"
Her head jerked up.
Lips parted.
> "Ro⌠Rosa."
Another scoff.
> "Not like I care."
I leaned back.
> "How much do you want to walk out of my lifeâand this city?"
Her eyes widened.
Confused.
Disbelieving.
> "Uhm⌠Iâ"
> "Name your price," I repeated.
> "Let's not waste each other's time."
> "NoâŚ" she said softly.
> "IâI don't want your money."
That did it.
I slammed the glass down.
The sound echoed.
My chair screeched as I stood.
> "Of course," I muttered.
> "That's exactly what a gold-digger would say."
She paled.
Didn't speak.
Didn't defend herself.
Just looked at me like I was a monster.
Maybe I was.
I didn't care.
> "You brought this on yourself," I said coldly.
> "Don't expect anything from me."
I left before I could say something worse.
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đď¸ Scene 2: Echoes of Yesterday
Rosa
I don't even remember how I got back to the hotel.
One second I was sitting across from Bryant.
The nextâI was staring at the ceiling, wondering if I was awake or dreaming.
Bryant.
Of all people, it had to be him.
And the stupid part?
My heart was still beating like it was the first day of high school.
---
A memory hit me.
Erica's voice, dripping with mockery.
> "Wow⌠it's the weakling's birthday."
Her friends giggled.
Then flour.
Eggs.
Yolk in my eyes.
Thenâ
> "What's going on here?"
Bryant.
Back then, he was the low-key gangster with perfect swagger.
Nobody knew his surname.
Just that he was rich and untouchable.
Erica skipped over and pecked his cheek.
He wiped it off, disgusted.
Then he walked past her.
Grabbed my arm.
Pulled me away.
Tossed me a towel.
No smile.
No kindness.
Just that same cold, unreadable look.
---
I'd written him letters after that day.
Stupid, hopeful letters.
Never gave them to him.
And the one time he spoke to meâ
His words cut deep enough to leave scars.
---
My phone buzzed.
A text.
> Wedding preparations start immediately.
I stared at the words.
I didn't even know what to feel anymore.
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đ Scene 3: The Contract
Rosa
By noon, a text buzzed on my phone.
> "Get ready. Driver on the way."
No greeting. No explanation.
Just a cold orderâpure Bryant.
I dressed quickly, kept my makeup light, and headed out.
The car took me to Mr. Bee Shopping Mall, one of the most expensive places in the city.
I waited.
And waited.
Almost an hour.
Then finallyâBryant King arrived.
No apology.
Just a glance, like I was a chore.
> "Get her a dress that suits her," he told the shop attendant.
I tried on dress after dress.
Each time, he barely looked before waving it off.
Then I stepped out in an emerald gownâjeweled, diamond-trimmed, silk hugging every curve.
He gave a slow nod.
No compliment.
No smile.
Just a nod.
We left in silence.
The car stopped in front of a law firm.
> "A law firm?" I blurted.
> "Get down," he replied.
Inside, a man greeted me politely.
Bryant cut him off.
> "Let's get straight to it."
The lawyer slid a document across the table.
CONTRACT MARRIAGE
I read the terms:
- Marriage duration: 1 year
- No affairsâpublic or private
- No disclosure of the agreement
- Appear together at public events
- Absolutely no love or emotional involvement
- No claims to property
- After divorce: $70 billion
> "Just sign," Bryant said.
I set the pen down.
> "I'd like to add my own clause."
He smirkedâno amusement.
> "Let's hear it," the lawyer said.
> "One: I'm to be respected. In every way.
> Two: I manage the household and your meals."
Bryant's eyes narrowed.
But he didn't argue.
We signed.
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đď¸ Scene 4: A House, Not a Home
Rosa
I slipped into my wedding dress.
Lace and satin.
It felt less like a celebration, more like a costume.
A quick sweep of makeup to hide the exhaustion.
The reflection in the mirror was a stranger.
Decent enough for the cameras.
I FaceTimed Trisha.
Her eyes were puffy, voice thick with mock drama.
> "I can't believe I'm missing your wedding!"
> "LoL⌠as if it's a real wedding," I muttered.
Still⌠a small part of me wished she was here.
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An Uber pulled up.
I rode in silence to the city registrar's office.
Bryant was already there.
Black suit. Perfect fit.
Hair combed back with surgical precision.
If I didn't know him, I might've fallen for that face.
> "Mr. Bryant," I greeted softly.
He turned.
> "Please, let's start the process. My wife is here."
My wife.
Two words.
One ridiculous skip of my heart.
We signed the certificate.
The pen felt heavy.
> "Let's take a picture," the registrar beamed.
> "You two look stunning togetherâyour children will be beautiful."
> "Don't worry," I said quickly, forcing a laugh.
Bryant's hand gripped my waistâpossessive, not gentle.
Click.
I smiled. Because that's what you do in pictures.
I snapped a photo of the certificate.
Sent it to my father.
No caption. Just proof.
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The car ride back was silent.
Bryant stared out the window.
Then we arrived.
The mansion.
Glass walls. Dark stone.
Manicured hedges cut with ruler precision.
Inside, maids stood in line.
Crisp uniforms. Eyes lowered.
The living room was marble, gold, and modern art.
Balloons. Flowers. Champagne.
They were celebrating my arrival.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
> "This is my wife, Rosa," Bryant announced.
> "You will give her the same respect you give me."
I opened my mouth to thank himâ
But he was already walking away.
A woman stepped forward.
> "Ma'am, I'm Paige. I'll be taking care of you personally."
I nodded.
Forced a polite smile.
Followed her upstairs.
To what would now beâŚ
my room.
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đŻď¸ Scene 5: Rosa's New Room
Rosa
After Paige left, I sank onto the bed.
The room was flawless.
Manicured.
Empty.
I stared at the picture of the marriage certificate I'd sent to my father.
A hollow victory.
I didn't feel married.
I felt⌠purchased.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
The message was short.
Simple.
Terrifying.
> "The first rule of a contract is you don't get to make the rules. That's my job."
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