Chapter 3 Terms And Conditions

Nila’s POV

“They said it’s just a marriage for appearances. You won’t have to, you know… do anything,” my father said nervously.

“Sleep with him? If he’s eighty, then it’s fine. He probably can’t anyway. Eighty sounds good,” I replied, trying to sound indifferent.

My father fidgeted. “Nila, I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to go through with this, I’ll figure something else out.”

I looked at him, sitting slumped in his chair. His messy hair and tired, bloodshot eyes made him look older than he was. He seemed so small, so defeated.

“There’s no other way, is there? Unless you’re ready to report the mafia to the police,” I said flatly.

“You know I can’t do that. They’d kill us all,” he whispered.

Of course, they would. I sighed deeply, trying to stay calm. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

My father’s face crumpled, and he began to cry. I wanted to cry too, but what was the point?  

“When will this start? Will they arrange some kind of meeting?” I asked.

“They already did,” he said. “We’re meeting their boss in an hour.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Perfect. I’ll just head to the bathroom and throw up my lunch. Meet you at the door in five minutes.”

Adrian’s POV

The server placed a drink in front of me without a word and rushed back to the kitchen. I glanced around the shabby café. It had closed weeks ago, which made it the perfect location for this meeting.

“They’re here,” Sergio said from behind me. “She brought her father.”

“Let the girl in. Her father stays outside,” I instructed.

I took a sip of whiskey, keeping my eyes on the glass door. Soon, it opened, and a small figure walked in. She was shorter than I’d imagined, barely over five feet, with long black braids framing her face. Her torn jeans, hoodie, and chunky boots made her look more like a teenager than a woman.  

I closed my eyes briefly, thinking this wasn’t going to work. But when she turned her head, anger flashing in her eyes, the words I’d planned to say died in my throat. She wasn’t the scared girl I expected. She was stunning and furious.  

“Miss Roberts,” I said, motioning to the chair across from me. “Please, have a seat.”

Instead of sitting, she walked up to me, her sharp gaze fixed on mine. I waited for her to flinch when she noticed the wheelchair. She didn’t.

“You’re not what I expected, Mr. Di Salis,” she said, her tone steady.

“How so?” I asked, curious.

“I thought you’d be eighty,” she replied bluntly.

I smirked and took a sip of my drink. “I’m thirty-five. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s talk business. Did your father explain the arrangement?”

“He did. But I have a condition,” she said, her tone firm. She started twisting the end of one braid around her finger and a small crack in her confident front.  

“A condition? You’re not really in a position to negotiate, but go ahead,” I said.

“My father walks away from this deal. He’s out of the picture.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll consider it. Now, ask your questions.”

“Why do you need a wife?” she asked.

“That’s not your concern. And this marriage won’t be fake. Next question.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she pressed on. “What happens after six months?”

“You’ll get a divorce and go back to your life.”

“How will this marriage work? Are we just signing papers?”

I stared at her, letting my words sink in. “This isn’t just a paper marriage. If anyone suspects this is fake, your father dies. And you’ll follow.”

She blinked, startled, her confidence shaken for the first time. “We’re supposed to live together?”

“Of course. That’s the only way anyone will believe it’s real.”  

She stood there, speechless, staring at me. I decided to push further.  

“There’s a party on Saturday,” I continued. “You’ll attend with your father. We’ll meet and pretend to fall for each other. That night, you’ll come home with me, and we’ll stay in my room for two days.”

Her face paled. “Am I supposed to sleep with you?”

She speaks in a calm, even tone, as if she’s just asking about the weather. But her eyes give her away,there’s fear hiding beneath that composed exterior. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I’ve spent my life making others afraid, and I can see it clearly. She’s terrified.

“No,” I reply, then add, “Unless, of course, you want to.”

“Thanks for the offer, Mr. Di Salis, but I’ll pass.” She lets go of her braid and tucks her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

I knew she’d say no, but for some reason, her answer feels like a slap.

“And what exactly will we be doing for two days in your room, Mr. Di Salis?” she asks.

“As far as the world is concerned, we’ll be having nonstop sex,” I say with a small wave of my hand. “In reality, you can do whatever you want, watch movies, solve puzzles, whatever. I’ll be busy working.”

“Sounds wonderful. And after our two days of supposed passion?” she presses.

“That’s when I lose my mind over you,” I reply. “Then we get married. After that, your job is to act like a head over heels wife. The rest of your time is yours.”

“And that’s it?”  

“That’s it.”

“Do you really believe anyone will fall for this… fake love story?”

“That depends on you, Miss Roberts. Your father’s life depends on how convincing you are.”

“And what about you? Do you think you can act like a man crazy in love with his wife? You don’t seem the type.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” I say with a faint smile. “So, do we have a deal, Miss Roberts?”

I can see her mind racing as she tries to think of another way out, weighing all the options. But there aren’t any, and we both know it. I catch the moment she accepts her fate, her jaw tightens just slightly as she clenches her teeth.

“We have a deal, Mr. Di Salis,” she says finally.