Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 24: Offer

The atmosphere in the private room thickened with tension as Cassius Varen leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he studied the two people sitting before him. Neither Zephany nor Kendrick spoke, the weight of the marriage contract sinking in.

"Mr. Montclair," Cassius began, his voice smooth and deliberate. "I understand your desire to open your own art gallery and support your sister's education. The Elite Legacy Institute is an excellent school—one that promises a bright future. But it's also... costly. I can offer you the means to fulfill that dream. Consider this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Kendrick kept his gaze steady, though his mind was racing. What the hell are you talking about? He wanted to laugh in disbelief. Is this why you asked me to display my paintings?

He clenched his fists beneath the table, knowing full well that money wasn't a problem for him. He had billions tucked away in a secret account — funds no one, not even Cassius, could trace. There was no way he couldn't cover his sister's tuition. Yet, he held his tongue, pretending to listen.

Cassius then turned his attention to Zephany.

"And you, Ms. Draven. I'm aware of your current predicament." His voice lowered, dripping with mock sympathy. "Your position at Air Media is hanging by a thread. You've worked diligently, but your performance has yet to impress. I understand why it matters to you, though. Your father dedicated his life to that company. It's only natural you'd want to carry on his legacy."

Zephany stiffened, her nails digging into her palms. How dare he bring up my father like that? She wanted to lash out, to slam her hands on the table and tell him to go to hell. But she couldn't. Not here. Not now. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm, pretending to be the timid and soft-spoken journalist she'd carefully portrayed over the years.

"From now on," Cassius continued, "I will grant you exclusive rights to cover Varen Enterprises. Countless journalists would kill for such an opportunity, but I will offer it solely to you. Imagine the influence, the recognition. Your career would flourish, and your job security would no longer be a concern."

Zephany's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. The truth was, she didn't care about securing her job. She'd never truly wanted to be a journalist. Air Media was merely a means to an end — a way to investigate her father's mysterious death. And now, Cassius, the man whose existence was veiled in secrecy, was dangling an offer she couldn't ignore.

"Just sign the marriage contract," Cassius said, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It will be valid for a year. After that, you're free to go your separate ways — divorce, annulment, whatever you desire."

Zephany's voice barely escaped her lips. "W-why?"

To Kendrick, her question sounded weak, as though she were too afraid to speak her mind. But for Zephany, it was all she could manage without her anger spilling over.

Kendrick's voice came instead, calm and polite despite the storm brewing within him. "Why would you want us to enter into a contract marriage?"

Zephany glanced at him, her heart sinking further. Is he seriously considering it? Her mind flashed to the way he dressed — simple and understated. He probably needs the money. She felt a twinge of sympathy. He looked like a struggling artist, an unknown painter desperate for a break. She couldn't blame him for wanting to take the offer.

Cassius's enigmatic smile widened. "Entertainment."

Both Zephany and Kendrick froze.

"I've often wondered," Cassius mused, his voice laced with amusement, "if those stories from movies and television — where strangers enter into a contract marriage and eventually fall in love — could actually happen in real life. It's a fascinating concept, don't you think?"

"That's... childish," Zephany murmured, though the words felt foreign to her. She hated holding back, hated pretending to be meek. But in this moment, she had no choice.

Kendrick's gaze darkened. "Marriage isn't something to be taken lightly. It's not a game."

Cassius met his stare, unbothered. "Amass great wealth, become as rich as I am, and perhaps then you'll understand my perspective."

Zephany's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. The sheer arrogance of the man before her was staggering.

Cassius rose from his chair, adjusting his cufflinks with an air of finality. "I'll give you ten minutes," he declared, glancing at his watch. "If you agree, sign the contract. If not, you're free to leave, and we'll pretend this conversation never happened."

With that, he turned and exited the room, leaving Zephany and Kendrick alone.

The silence between them was unbearable.

Kendrick leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His frustration was evident. What the hell is this man playing at? The hidden message from the invitation echoed in his mind. "If you want the information from twelve years ago, attend the event and agree to my offer."

He needed answers. But at what cost?

On the other side of the table, Zephany was struggling with her own thoughts. She couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Cassius held all the pieces to the puzzle she'd been trying to solve for years. The cryptic invitation had mentioned the same thing — information from twelve years ago. It was no coincidence.

But marrying a complete stranger? It was absurd.

Kendrick suddenly spoke, his voice low. "You don't have to do this, you know."

Zephany blinked in surprise, startled by the unexpected kindness in his tone. "What?"

"You don't have to agree," he repeated. "Whatever he's offering you... it's not worth it if you're uncomfortable."

She studied him for a moment. He looked sincere, genuinely concerned for her. The realization made her chest tighten. He thinks I'm some helpless woman forced into this.

But he had no idea.

"I'll be fine," she mumbled, lowering her gaze. "What about you?"

Kendrick gave a bitter chuckle. "Who knows? Maybe I'll frame the contract and hang it in my gallery one day. Call it modern art."

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Despite herself, Zephany felt a small, fleeting smile tug at her lips.

Ten minutes.

They had ten minutes to decide their fate.

And neither of them knew what the right choice was.