5

Rocco pov 

A contract marriage? Why on earth?

I burst into laughter, hoping it would irritate her, but she remains unfazed. She's wearing a determined expression that makes me quickly regain my composure.

"Are you finished laughing?" she leans in, her excessive makeup front and center.

I don't respond, silently wishing I had never suggested this meeting. I hope it ends soon. Is this the woman I'm about to marry? Why in the world would she propose a contract marriage?

As if she can read my thoughts, she chimes in. "The last time I checked, I had a boyfriend, and I was told to break up with him simply because I've been betrothed to some man. The last time I checked, we don't like each other in the slightest. So, tell me, what on earth are you thinking? Do you want us to be married for life?"

I'm tempted to scream a resounding NO. I'm tempted to oppose it. I can't bear the thought of spending an eternity with this overly dramatic woman. No way. This should be temporary. We'll get divorced as soon as possible. We just need to act as if our parents have succeeded in their plan to make us fall in love and stay married forever.

Upon closer consideration, the contract idea doesn't seem so absurd. I suppose it just sounded ridiculous because it was her suggestion. We don't need a formal contract. We're adults, and all we have to do is divorce after a few years of marriage.

So, why is she even bringing up this contract nonsense?

She tilts her head to the side, furrowing her brow. Then she fakes a gasp, her right hand covering her mouth. "Are you already falling in love with me?"

I sneer in response. Fall in love, my foot!

"Do you want a lifelong marriage?" she asks.

I pound my fist on the table in frustration. She's clearly trying to provoke me into responding to her crazy idea.

"Shut the hell up, woman!"

"Shut the hell up, man!" She shouts back, taken aback. "Who do you think you are to yell at me like that? Do I look like someone who'll just follow your orders because you want me to? Do I appear to be someone you can boss around? I know you need this marriage more than I do. I could just go back home right now and tell them I won't marry you, and that's final. I'm doing you a favor, so you'd better tell me if you agree with the idea or not."

I'm taken aback by her outburst. I never saw it coming. It almost leaves me speechless, but I compose myself. "Who do you think you are to impose rules…"

"You need me."

"What?!"

"Yes."

"So you don't need me?" I retort angrily. As far as I know, her father was the one who came over to our house for a business partnership. He reminded my father about the betrothal because of the partnership.

We damn well need each other.

"Nope. I don't. But my parents do. And you need me, not your parents."

My anger is boiling over. I'm furious that I have to marry this woman, whether I like it or not, and I'm irritated by her calm demeanor. She doesn't seem remotely threatened or intimidated by me.

I'm starting to think that a contract might indeed be the best idea. I can't imagine spending years with this unpredictable woman.

"Tell me why you think a contract marriage isn't a good idea," she challenges, her elbow on the table and a smirk on her face. Before I can answer, she adds, "Do you want to fall in love with me?"

"Tell me why you think a contract marriage is the best option," I reply sharply, my tone elevated. What's the point of raising my voice when it won't faze her?

She smiles and then leans back, crossing her legs. "A contract marriage is the best because no one will be able to prevent us from getting divorced according to the contract, not even our parents. They won't have a say anymore. Can't you see?"

"Why do we need a contract when we can make such decisions independently?"

"Because marriage is legal, and a contract is legal too. A contract will dissolve the marriage with minimal hassle. We won't even have to sign divorce papers."

"Who told you that?"

"Do we need to?"

I hiss in frustration.

"Why do you want to go through with this marriage?" I ask in a hushed voice. "It's clear that you have the power to oppose it, as you mentioned earlier. Tell me, what do you stand to gain aside from the benefits your parents will reap from this? You don't even sound like you want to help or are helping them."

"Why do you want to know? Do you think I trust you enough to tell you?" She scoffs, turning her head away, giving me a side view of her face.

Its shape is reminiscent of a model's. Maybe if she hadn't slathered on all this ridiculous makeup, I might have admired her a bit. But they say first impressions stick.

Even if she doesn't wear any excessive makeup next time, I'll still see her this way.

Like a clown.

Unfashionable, unsophisticated.

"Just tell me already. It's not like I can use it against you."

"Why do you want to know?"

I nearly curse at her. What's with all the questions? Can't she just tell me?

She lets out a short laugh. "I want revenge on my boyfriend and my best friend."

That's when I recall she mentioned having a boyfriend earlier. So she's in a relationship.

Why does she want to take revenge on her boyfriend? Did he cheat on her? Who wouldn't cheat on someone as unpredictable as her?

I see no need to ask her more questions, so I remain silent.

"I need you, but I don't need you the way you need me. I can still get my revenge without you," she asserts, and I acknowledge it.

Noted.

She wants me to understand that she's doing me a favor.

"So, what do you say? Are you in?"

She's referring to the idea of a contract. She still wants us to proceed and have a contract that specifies when our marriage will start and end.

This way, we can part ways without any trouble or interference from our parents. They won't be able to force us into this marriage, just as they're doing now.

As I contemplate it, it doesn't sound like a terrible idea. Why?

Because I can set the rules. This agreement should be a 50-50 partnership.

She's bringing the idea, and I'll be the one making the rules. She wants revenge on her boyfriend and best friend, and I can do the same to her for being obstinate with me.

If I set the rules, it'll be much easier to deal with her, as these rules will limit her behavior and impulsiveness.

This way, I'll be in control, not her. And our limited married life will be spent peacefully, not in turmoil.

Noticing the happiness in her eyes, I comment, "The answer to that would be yes, but only if I get to make the rules for the contract."

Her eyes light up with joy. Without hesitation, she agrees, "Great."

She extends her right hand towards me for a handshake, as I would in a business meeting.

Pleased that she readily accepted my condition, I proudly smirk and rise to leave without shaking her hand.