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Chapter Five: Legally Bound, Emotionally Wrecked
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2025-04-05 00:17:13Valeria paced her apartment like a caged animal, the marriage certificate clutched in one trembling hand.
Her mind kept looping the same impossible question:
How the hell was she legally married to Alejandro Herrera?
The paper wasn’t fake. It was stamped, signed, and government-issued.
She remembered none of it.
A sharp knock at the door jolted her out of the spiral.
She didn’t need to check who it was.
Alejandro never waited.
She yanked the door open. “What the hell did you do?”
He didn’t flinch at her fury. “Can I come in?”
She shoved the paper against his chest. “You can come in when you explain this.”
He stepped inside anyway.
The door slammed behind him.
Inside Her Apartment
Alejandro took one look at the document, then looked at her.
His voice was low. Controlled. “Where did you get this?”
“It was on my kitchen counter.”
“Who else has a key to your place?”
“Don’t play the security game, Alejandro. Explain.”
He ran a hand through his hair — and for the first time since she met him, he looked shaken.
“I had my legal team draw up a mock marriage agreement,” he said. “So it looked official for the investor portfolio. That’s what we signed.”
“This isn’t a mock agreement. This is a real marriage certificate.”
“I know.”
His eyes locked on hers.
And then he said the thing she least expected:
“I think someone submitted it. On purpose.”
A Beat of Silence
Valeria stared at him, thunderstruck. “Why would someone do that?”
Alejandro exhaled. “Maybe to force my hand. Or maybe… to protect me.”
She blinked. “From what?”
He sat on the edge of her sofa like it physically hurt to stay standing. “There’s a clause in my father’s will. I don’t get full control of the Herrera Design Group unless I’m married. Legally. On paper. For one year.”
Her heart stopped.
“You knew that?”
He nodded slowly. “But I wasn’t going to use it. I didn’t want a marriage of convenience.”
Valeria laughed bitterly. “And yet here we are.”
“I didn’t want this,” he said quietly. “Not like this.”
She folded her arms. “So someone in your team thought marrying me for real would seal the deal and secure your legacy?”
“Yes.”
“And no one thought to tell me?” she snapped.
“I didn’t even know until now,” he said. “I swear to you, Valeria.”
His voice cracked — just a little. Enough to feel real.
Too real.
She Sat Across From Him
“Then we fix it,” she said. “We go to the court. We file for annulment.”
Alejandro didn’t move.
Her stomach twisted. “You don’t want to, do you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
A silence stretched between them — tight and sharp.
Finally, he stood. Walked toward her. Paused.
“You think I wanted a fake marriage?” he asked. “You think I enjoy lying to my family, to the world, just to hold my company together?”
She swallowed. “I think you enjoy control. And this gave you that.”
His jaw clenched. “Maybe I do like control. But you... you make me lose it.”
Her breath hitched.
“You walked into my life, challenged me at every turn, said no when everyone else said yes. And now I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I know I shouldn’t.”
She shook her head. “Don’t do this.”
He stepped closer. “You make me want more. And I hate that.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not the woman who stays.”
“I’m not the man who asks.”
They stood there — two people legally bound but emotionally wrecked.
And still... still, she couldn’t look away from him.
Then He Whispered It
“Stay married to me.”
Valeria’s eyes widened. “What?”
“One year. That’s all I need.”
“And what do I get out of it?”
He hesitated. “Whatever you want. Name it.”
“Freedom,” she said. “After that one year, I walk away. Clean. With proof this was a contract, not a con.”
“Done.”
“And in the meantime?” she added. “No touching. No kissing. No falling in love.”
A flicker passed through his expression. Something darker.
“Deal.”
She reached out and shook his hand.
His grip was firm. Electric.
And suddenly, her no-touching clause felt very, very stupid.
He Left Without Another Word
The moment the door clicked shut, Valeria collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.
One year.
No falling in love.
Easy. Right?
Except...
Why did her heart ache like it already had?
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