C5 Terms of the Marriage

Douglas found Evelyn in a small conference room above the hotel kitchen. She had chosen it because there were no reporters outside, no family portraits on the walls, and no expensive furniture to remind her that every object in his world belonged to someone else.

He entered alone and closed the door.

“You asked to speak without my father, Vivian, or a lawyer.”

“I asked you to come without them.”

“I did not say I agreed to your conditions.”

“You are here.”

“That is not agreement.”

“No. It is a beginning.”

Douglas remained standing. He looked better than he had in the guest room, but the color had not fully returned to his face.

“You should not have stayed with me last night,” he said.

“The medic said someone had to watch you.”

“You could have called my security team.”

“I tried to warn them before you collapsed.”

“You warned your aunt.”

“She was standing beside me.”

“You knew who I was.”

“Everyone knew who you were.”

“That is not what I meant.”

Evelyn folded her hands on the table. “You wanted to know whether I did anything to you.”

“I wanted to know what happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“The photographs say otherwise.”

“The photographs are edited.”

“Some are.”

Her eyes lifted. “Some?”

“I am not accusing you.”

“You have spent the entire morning doing exactly that without using the word.”

Douglas’s jaw tightened. “I woke up in a private room with a woman I do not know.”

“You woke up with the woman who kept you from choking on your own vomit.”

His expression changed.

Evelyn looked away. “Forgive me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Do not apologize for telling me the truth.”

The answer unsettled her more than anger would have.

Douglas pulled out the chair opposite her and sat. “The medic confirmed I was drugged.”

“I know.”

“He said my drink could have been tampered with before it reached me.”

“That is what I told you.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“Your voice.”

She waited.

“You kept telling me to walk.”

“You kept walking into walls.”

“I remember being afraid.”

Evelyn pressed her fingers into her palm. “You asked me not to tell anyone.”

“I remember that too.”

“Then you remember enough.”

“I remember asking whether we had met before.”

She looked at him.

“Have we?”

Evelyn’s heart beat hard against her ribs. “No.”

His eyes narrowed. “You lied quickly.”

“I answered quickly.”

“Why?”

“Because you asked a simple question.”

“It does not feel simple.”

“Then stop asking it.”

Douglas studied her. “My father says the only way to end this is marriage.”

“Your lawyer said the same.”

“Adrian believes it will protect the company.”

“And your family’s name.”

“And yours.”

“My name was not the one they protected when you left that room.”

His gaze lowered. “I know.”

“You left me while reporters called me a predator.”

“I was trying to get Vivian away from them.”

“You always have a reason for choosing her.”

Douglas looked up sharply. “You know nothing about Vivian.”

“I know she was near your drink.”

“She denies that.”

“She denies everything.”

“She was frightened.”

“She was crying.”

“Those are not the same thing.”

“They are when she wants you to rescue her.”

His expression hardened. “Be careful.”

“I have been careful all my life.”

“Then be careful now.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is advice.”

“From the man offering to marry me because strangers believe I am immoral?”

“From a man who knows how quickly this family destroys people who stand in its way.”

Evelyn looked at him. “Are you warning me about your family?”

“I am telling you what you are entering.”

“I am not entering anything until I understand the terms.”

Douglas placed several pages on the table.

“You already had a contract prepared.”

“My father did.”

“But you read it.”

“Yes.”

“Did you add anything?”

“Three conditions.”

“Tell me.”

“You will not be required to give interviews alone. You will have independent legal representation. Your aunt and uncle will be protected from employment or property retaliation connected to this scandal.”

Evelyn’s surprise showed.

“What?” he asked.

“I expected you to ask me to sign away my rights.”

“I am not a criminal.”

“Your family’s lawyer mentioned my aunt’s job and my uncle’s lease before he mentioned my safety.”

“That was wrong.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

The certainty in his voice left her without an answer.

“The marriage would last two years,” Douglas said. “After that, we would divorce quietly.”

“Quietly for whom?”

“For both of us.”

“You mean quietly for you.”

“I mean no public accusations, no financial claims, and no attempt to extend the arrangement.”

“You have thought about this carefully.”

“It is a business solution.”

“Of course it is.”

“What did you expect?”

“Nothing.”

“That is not true.”

“It is the safest expectation.”

“Do you expect me to fall in love with you?”

The question struck with humiliating precision.

Evelyn kept her expression still. “Would it matter if I did?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because this cannot become complicated.”

“It is already complicated.”

“Not emotionally.”

She laughed softly. “You think emotions can be excluded by writing them out of a contract.”

“I think boundaries exist for a reason.”

“Then write this one down: you will not bring Vivian into our home.”

Douglas’s face closed. “Vivian is not part of this agreement.”

“She is part of everything you do.”

“She is my friend.”

“She is the woman who stood beside you while the world accused me.”

“That is not fair.”

“Neither was the photograph.”

“I want one place where I am not required to compete with her.”

Douglas was silent.

Then he said, “You will live at the east villa.”

“Your family owns it?”

“Yes.”

“Will you live there too?”

“We will share it when necessary.”

“Necessary for whom?”

“For the press, family events, and the agreement.”

Evelyn looked down at the pages. “You are offering me a marriage in which I am your wife in public and a tenant in private.”

“It will give you security.”

“It will give your family a solution.”

“Both things can be true.”

Douglas pushed a pen toward her. “You do not have to accept.”

“What happens if I refuse?”

“The investigation continues.”

“Against Vivian?”

“Against everyone involved.”

“Even me?”

“If the evidence suggests”

Evelyn stood so quickly that the chair scraped the floor. “There it is.”

“I did not finish.”

“You did not need to.”

“You were alone in a room with a drugged man while a camera watched you.”

Evelyn went still.

Douglas noticed. “You knew about the camera?”

“I saw its light.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I am telling you now.”

“Where is it?”

“In the corridor outside the guest room.”

“Did you see who placed it?”

“No.”

“Why did you not remove it?”

“I did not know whether someone was watching in real time.”

Douglas rose. “I will have security search the floor.”

“Do not use Marcus.”

His attention returned to her. “Why?”

“He was the officer speaking with the woman about the cameras.”

Something shifted in his expression—not trust, but reluctant respect.

“If we marry, I will investigate it,” he said.

“If we marry, you will not ask me to pretend Vivian is harmless.”

“I cannot abandon a friend because you dislike her.”

“I am not asking you to abandon her. I am asking you not to let her enter our marriage.”

“What else?”

“Separate finances.”

“Agreed.”

“Freedom to work.”

“Agreed.”

“My aunt keeps her position if she wants it. My uncle keeps his shop lease without interference.”

“Agreed.”

“No humiliating displays designed to make me look grateful.”

“Put it in writing.”

“I will.”

Evelyn returned to her chair and read the document. Douglas did not interrupt. For the first time since the scandal began, no one rushed her toward a decision.

The words carried the weight of a door closing.

Evelyn picked up the pen.

“You can still walk away,” Douglas said.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

“Even if my aunt loses her job?”

“I will protect her regardless.”

“Even if my uncle loses his shop?”

“I will protect the lease.”

“Even if the press destroys me?”

“I will issue the statement.”

“Even if Vivian is angry?”

His pause was brief.

“I will handle Vivian.”

Evelyn signed her name.

Douglas took the pen and signed beneath it.

“Evelyn Lyster,” he said.

“You have finally learned my surname.”

“I am learning.”

“Do not mistake that for knowing me.”

“I will not.”

Outside, his father’s impatient voice approached with the reporters.

Douglas placed the ring box on the table.

“From this moment, you are my wife.”

Evelyn looked at the box but did not touch it.

“No,” she said. “From this moment, I am the woman you agreed to marry.”

His eyes held hers.

“For two years,” he said.

“For two years.”

Neither of them touched the ring.

Yet when the door opened and the cameras began flashing, they stood side by side.