Naomi

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” I bite down on my lip, asking the same question for the 10th time in a row.

“Yes, I'm sure silly.” Celeste smiled through the video call on my tablet, her eyes warm and kind. “I understand.”

After the phone call with Julian an hour ago and the recent one followed by my lawyer, I had to put a call through to Celeste, informing her about the sh*t show that went down yesterday.

Surprisingly, she should take the news well instead of flaring up as I expected.

Especially when I disclosed to her that I had unwittingly gotten into a marriage agreement with her ex-husband while I was drunk.

She must have seen the disbelief in my eyes because she went on to say, “Look, I get it okay? You've made a mistake and life goes on.”

“So you're not mad?” I pressed.

“No, actually I'm happy that you came clean to me,” She declared. “I would have been mad if you had kept this from me, and that goes to show the kind of person that you are, so yes, I am okay with you doing this.”

I bury my face in my hands, heaving a sigh of relief, a weight I didn't know existed, easing up. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”

“Hold on…” Her eyes widened. “Did you think that I would say no?”

“Well, yes?” My voice went high on that last word, making it seem more like a question. “I know you and Julian have a messy history and I don't want to be the person to rehash all of those memories for you.”

At the mention of her and Julian's sordid history, the light in my eyes dimmed a little. “Thank you for being considerate but Julian and I… that's in the past, okay? "I know how important Alana's Tech is to you, and if this is a means to an end for you to get what you want, then I don't have an issue with it.”

She smiled up at me, moving closer to the camera. “Just promise that, no matter what, we're not going to let him come between us, okay?”

“I promise,” I whispered, my heart melting at her thoughtfulness.

We chatted a bit for the next couple of minutes before I eventually logged off, needing to get ready for my meeting with Julian.

Before I got ready to step out, I did my research on contract marriage type of agreements so that I didn't walk blind.

So far, it seemed pretty simple, but I wouldn't trust Julian if he was the last person on Earth.

I arrived in record time, with only 10 minutes off the allotted time.

He must have instructed his staff about me because as soon as I stepped through the massive gliding doors, a young beautiful lady walked up to me, taking me up to his office.

I couldn't help but feel nervous as my feet closed the distance between the offices.

The woman went ahead first, opening the door. I overheard bits of conversation before she finally stepped back, waving me in.

It'd been a while since Julian and I met-save for two nights ago when I met him drunk - so I had forgotten how gorgeous he was.

Out of courtesy, he stood up, stretching his hand over the desk, a slight frown on his face. “Miss Sinclair.” He rasped, but I couldn't help but take in his features.

His dirty blonde hair was artfully tousled in a way that would make it seem like he had just got out of bed.

Full eyebrows sat atop his pretty green eyes that were so intense that it seemed like he was looking through you.

Should I mention his cheekbones that were hard enough to cut glass or those muscles that strained his black, silk shirt?

Shaking my head slightly, I focused on more important things like the contract.

I ignored his outstretched hand, placing my bag on the desk. “Mr Hart.”

He ignored the snub, taking his seat. “Thanks for coming…even though you're late.”

I glanced at the watch at his desk.

In 3 minutes?

Wisely refraining from commenting, I folded one leg over the other. “I'm here, aren't I? Where's the document I need to sign?”

He regarded me skeptically. “You're not going to fight me on this?”

I held his gaze, giving him my best ‘do not mess with me’ look. “No, not unless I discover that you're lying.”

He recoiled, stung at the accusation. “I would never do such a thing. Besides, you were the one spitting out your life story to me in the first place.”

Oh, and I fully regret it.

“Can I see the initial agreements that I signed?” I kept my turn professional and business-like.

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper that looked like a bill, sliding it over the desk.

I peered at it and, sure enough, my signature crawled at the bottom. “How can I be sure that I wasn't coerced to sign in this?”

His frown got deeper. “Why in the hell would I pick you and force you to get into an agreement with me? "I mean, when there are dozens of women, please, that are eager to go to your place?” The cocky arrogance dripping off his tongue annoyed me.

“Trust me; I made sure to confirm that you were semi-lucid when you did this.”

Choosing to believe him, I kept quiet, scanning the contents of the document.

“So far, it seems straightforward, but there are some changes I would love to enact,” I tell him, pushing.

We spent the next hour going over the fine details, like where I would stay after our ‘fake wedding’, separate rooms, sex, the amount of money he'd place in my company…etc.

Once we had gone over every item we could think of, Julian went first, scribbling his signature over the dotted line.

Exhaling shakily, I signed, effectively sealing my fate alongside his.

Julian stood up and I followed suit. “To a successful partnership,” he said, extending his hand.

“To a successful partnership.” I echoed, sliding my palm into his.

As we sealed our arrangement, neither of us noticed the tiny recorder hidden in a corner beneath his desk, silently capturing every word, every pause of our conversation.

Secrets that were never meant to be heard.