Chapter 3 A Marriage with Conditions

Amara had spent the entire night staring at her mother's photograph.

By morning, she had reached one conclusion: someone had lied to her, and she intended to discover who.

Unfortunately, the first person she needed answers from was the last man she wanted to see.

Adrian Blackwood.

At nine fifteen, she entered Blackwood Tower carrying a folder containing copies of her mother's letters and the photograph of Evelyn standing beside Richard Blackwood.

Adrian was already waiting in his office.

His gaze moved to the folder in her hands.

"You found something."

"My mother knew your father."

For the first time since Amara had met him, Adrian's expression lost its composure.

"Let me see."

She placed the photograph on his desk.

He picked it up carefully. His eyes lingered on the two figures before he turned it over and read the handwriting.

"Where did you get this?"

"It belonged to my mother. I found it yesterday."

"Did she ever mention my father?"

"No. But apparently, everyone else knows more about her life than I do."

Adrian placed the photograph down.

"My father died seven years ago. He rarely discussed his private affairs, and when he did, he was careful about what he revealed."

"That sounds convenient."

His eyes lifted to hers.

"You think I'm hiding something?"

"I think you know something you haven't told me."

He studied her for a moment before gesturing towards the chair opposite him.

"Then let's discuss what I can tell you."

Amara sat, keeping her handbag on her lap.

Adrian opened a drawer and removed a document.

"Your husband has scheduled the public announcement of the Bennett Holdings acquisition for tomorrow evening. He intends to present the deal as effectively complete."

"And it isn't."

"No. The ownership records contain unresolved voting rights connected to your mother's trust."

"Can you prove that?"

"I can prove there are discrepancies. Establishing the full truth will require access to additional records."

"Records Julian controls."

"Precisely."

Amara leaned back.

"And you expect me to walk into his office, ask him nicely, and hope he hands them over?"

"No. I expect you to stop allowing him to decide what you deserve to know."

The words struck a nerve.

She hated that he had noticed something she had spent years trying to hide.

"Don't mistake my marriage for stupidity, Mr Blackwood."

"I haven't."

"Good. Because if you think I'm going to become your convenient little weapon against Julian, you've misunderstood me."

A faint smile touched his mouth.

"I was beginning to think you might be difficult."

"Then we understand each other."

For several seconds, the silence between them felt strangely charged.

Amara looked away first.

Adrian returned to the document.

"There is another option. One that would give us both more leverage."

She frowned.

"What option?"

"Marriage."

She stared at him.

Then she laughed once, certain she had misunderstood.

"You want me to marry you?"

"For twelve months."

"You cannot be serious."

"I rarely make business proposals without considering the consequences."

"Marriage isn't a business proposal."

"In our circumstances, it can be both."

Amara stood so quickly that her chair shifted backwards.

"You've known me for barely a day."

"And yet, in that time, you've discovered a clause my lawyers believe could jeopardise the acquisition, challenged me in my own office, and produced a photograph connecting your mother to my father."

"None of that makes me your wife."

"No. But a marriage would give you a stronger public position, access to independent legal and financial resources, and protection against attempts to pressure you into surrendering your claim."

"And what would it give you?"

"Stability during the acquisition, an ally with a legitimate interest in the company's ownership, and time to investigate the discrepancies without Julian dictating the terms."

There it was.

The truth.

He wanted her just as much as she needed his resources.

Not romantically. Not yet.

Strategically.

Amara returned to her seat.

"Suppose I agree. What happens when you get what you want?"

"We honour the twelve-month agreement and separate."

"And you expect me to believe you'll simply let me walk away?"

"I expect a properly drafted contract to protect us both."

She looked at him carefully.

"You really do believe everything can be solved with paperwork."

"Paperwork is often the only thing standing between power and abuse."

For the first time, she found herself agreeing with him.

But agreement wasn't trust.

"Then I have conditions."

Adrian nodded towards the chair.

"I'm listening."

"First, I retain my own lawyer. You pay the reasonable legal costs, but my lawyer answers to me, not you."

"Agreed."

"Second, I keep my own money, my own bank accounts, and control over my career. I will not become dependent on you."

"Agreed."

"Third, no physical intimacy is required under this arrangement. Marriage does not give you ownership of my body."

His expression became serious.

"Agreed. Nothing happens without your consent."

"Fourth, you do not control what I wear, where I go, or whom I speak to, provided I don't compromise legitimate security arrangements we both approve."

"Reasonable."

"Fifth, if we discover that either family has committed fraud, neither of us interferes with the investigation to protect the other."

Adrian paused.

"That condition could become complicated."

"Truth usually is."

He held her gaze.

"Agreed, subject to the law and the rights of anyone involved."

Amara folded her arms.

"And finally, if you lie to me about my mother, the agreement ends."

Something changed in his face.

Not anger.

Something closer to caution.

"You're asking me to promise something I cannot guarantee."

"No. I'm asking you not to knowingly deceive me."

Adrian was silent for a moment.

Then he extended his hand across the desk.

"I can agree to that."

Amara looked at his hand but didn't take it immediately.

"What about your conditions?"

"I have three. We maintain a united public front during the acquisition. We do not disclose confidential business information to unauthorised parties. And we investigate the trust through legal channels rather than making accusations we cannot prove."

She considered them.

"Fair."

She shook his hand.

His palm was warm, his grip firm without being forceful.

For one absurd second, she became aware of how close he was and how easily he had commanded her attention without raising his voice.

She withdrew her hand.

"This doesn't mean I trust you."

"I would be disappointed if you did."

"Good. Then we have an agreement in principle."

"Pending independent legal review."

"Exactly."

Adrian's phone rang before either could speak again.

He glanced at the screen and answered.

"Yes?"

His expression hardened as he listened.

"When?"

A pause.

"Do not let anyone remove the original files. Preserve the access logs and notify legal."

He ended the call.

"What happened?" Amara asked.

"One of the original shareholder files has been accessed again."

"By whom?"

"We're checking."

"And what was taken?"

Adrian looked at her.

"Your mother's original trust agreement."

Amara's stomach tightened.

"Someone knew I was coming here."

"It appears so."

"Or someone knew you'd be showing me the records."

Adrian didn't deny it.

For the first time, they were looking at the same problem from opposite sides of the desk.

Someone was moving against them before they had even agreed to work together.

Amara picked up her handbag.

"Have the agreement sent to my lawyer. I won't sign anything until it's reviewed."

"Of course."

She reached the door, then turned.

"Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"If we're going to do this, don't ever confuse my cooperation with obedience."

His eyes held hers.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

She left the office without looking back.

Neither of them saw the man standing in the corridor near the private lift.

He had heard enough to understand that the arrangement was becoming real.

And before Amara reached the ground floor, Julian Bennett received a message from an unknown number.

She's negotiating with Blackwood. Stop the marriage before it's too late.