Chapter 5 – The Price of Courage

 

I’m back at the building where it all began.

The skyscraper of Hawthorne Corp rises before me, an imposing structure that seems to swallow the sky. Its mirrored facade reflects my pale face and the tension in my eyes. I should feel confident, strong for being here again.

But the truth is, I’m terrified.

My mother’s words echo in my mind since leaving the hospital: “Fix it. No matter how.”

And here I am, ready to sell my dignity, my freedom, in exchange for her survival.

I step into the building with hesitant steps, the sound of my shoes echoing in the luxurious lobby. The atmosphere is cold and elegant, just like him. Every detail is perfectly arranged, with no room for mistakes or imperfections.

I’m announced at the reception desk, and soon an assistant guides me to the private elevator leading to the top floor. My hands are trembling, but I clench them into fists, trying to control my anxiety.

When the elevator doors open, I’m greeted by the oppressive silence of Alexander Hawthorne’s office. He’s there, sitting behind a glass desk, typing something on his laptop, his posture impeccable and his expression as impassive as ever.

His eyes lift to meet minecold, calculatingand for a moment, I feel like I’m being evaluated again.

“Miss Carter.” His voice is low, firm, without a trace of surprise. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

I close the door behind me and approach slowly.

“I thought…” I take a deep breath, trying to find the courage that seems to elude me. “I thought a lot about your proposal.”

Alexander clasps his hands on the desk, waiting, as if he already knows what my answer will be.

“And?”

“I accept.” The words leave my mouth before I can reconsider.

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t show relief or satisfaction. He merely nods, as if concluding another transaction.

“Very well.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll arrange the contracts. It will be a simple marriage, no publicity. One year, as agreed.”

My mouth is dry, but there’s a question I can’t ignore any longer. It’s been burning in my mind since our last conversation, and now, with the deal sealed, I feel the need to know.

“And what about… us?”

His eyebrow raises slightly.

“Us?”

I avert my gaze, embarrassed by the audacity of my question, but I summon the courage I have left.

“I mean… will there be any kind of… physical involvement?”

The silence following my question is suffocating. When I finally look at him, I see something different in his eyesa spark of curiosity, perhaps even perverse amusement.

But when he answers, his voice is dry, almost sarcastic.

“Don’t worry, Miss Carter. You’re not my type.”

I feel the blood rush to my facea mix of relief and embarrassment. He’s not interested in me, and that should be good news. Right?

“I understand,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended.

But the man doesn’t stop there.

“I have no intention of sharing my bed with you. Our marriage will be purely contractual, nothing more.”

The words should reassure me, but there’s something in the way he says them that makes me uneasy. A calculated coldness, as if I’m nothing more than a pawn in his game.

And yet, another question creeps into my mind, one that makes me blush before I even voice it.

“And… do you plan to have lovers during this time?”

Alexander tilts his head slightly, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smile. The bastard seems to savor my discomfort.

“Would that bother you?”

I avert my gaze, feeling my face burn.

“I… I just want to know what to expect.”

Hawthorne rises from his chair, walking slowly toward me. His presence is overwhelming, and each step he takes in my direction heightens the tension in the air.

“Miss Carter…” He stops just inches from me, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “Would you like to share my bed?”

My heart skips a beat. The question is delivered directly, almost as a provocation, and I feel a wave of indignation wash over me.

“What?” My voice comes out incredulous, but he holds his gaze firm.

“It’s a simple question,” he says, his tone soft but with a sharp undertone. “Because, frankly, it seems that’s what you’re worried about.”

I step back, crossing my arms in an attempt to shield myself from his proximity.

“That’s never crossed my mind.”

“No?” His smile widens, but it’s cold, distant. “Then why are you so interested in the subject?”

Anger begins to bubble inside me.

“Because I want to understand the rules of this arrangement. I’m not interested in you like that.”

Alexander keeps his eyes on me for a few more seconds, as if trying to decide whether to believe me. Then, with an indifferent gesture, he steps back, increasing the distance between us.

“Good,” he says, his voice returning to its impassive tone. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

I cross my arms tightly, trying to steady my breathing and hide how much he unsettles me.

“I just want things to be clear.”

“And now they are.” He returns behind his desk, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with the precision of someone who controls every aspect of his life. “Our marriage will be a partnership of convenience. Nothing more.”

“Perfect.”

“Excellent.” He looks at me again, his gaze cold and calculating once more. “If there are no further questions, I’ll arrange the documents.”

I nod, trying to regain my composure.

“I have no more questions.”

“Good.” He picks up the phone on his desk and, with a simple command, summons his assistant to prepare the contract.

I leave his office with trembling legs, a racing heart, and a bitter feeling in my chest.

Alexander Hawthorne isn’t just cold. He’s cruel.

And I’m about to marry him.