Jane's POV
We both paused.
"You go first," I said. Mostly because I needed a second to brace myself. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my gums.
He stepped closer. Calm. Controlled. Like the world could be burning outside and he'd still have this exact expression.
"One year," he said. "After she's born, you decide. Divorce or stay. No pressure, no obligations beyond that. You get that freedom."
I didn't realize how tight my chest had been until it loosened all at once. Relief hit me so hard my knees actually felt weak.
He wasn't chaining me to anything.
He wasn't trapping me in some forever contract.
He was giving me an exit, even as he offered protection.
"What was it you wanted to say?" he asked, voice low but steady.
I swallowed, forcing myself not to shrink away from the moment. "The same thing you just said. I'm only marrying you now because of the baby and because… I'm tired, Allen. I'm tired of fighting for air in a world that keeps trying to drown me."
His jaw flexed, but not in anger. Something else—something like understanding—clicked behind his eyes.
"I wouldn't be fighting battles all my life," I continued, meeting his gaze fully. "So if we're doing this, it's with the clear understanding that I'm choosing safety and stability for now. Not… romance. Not expectations. Not pressure."
He nodded once—firm, accepting, almost relieved. "Then we're on the same page."
For the first time since this entire nightmare began, I didn't feel like prey.
I didn't feel cornered.
I didn't feel powerless.
We were drawing the terms of a war we didn't start—but at least we were drawing them together.
And that was the real beginning of everything.
"And afterwards, you don't seem like the type that'd prefer to stay idle, I'll get you a job, beside me, you'll be paid, and—"
"And what?" I cut in before he could finish that thought. "You'll be my boss and my husband at the same time? Sounds like a dictatorship, Allen."
He smirked, not even pretending to deny it. "Call it whatever you want. I call it efficiency."
I rolled my eyes. "You call everything efficiency. Even breathing."
His lips twitched. "Breathing keeps people alive. You should try it without panicking for once."
"Wow," I muttered, crossing my arms. "Romance really isn't your strong suit."
He ignored that completely and continued like I hadn't said a word. "There's a press statement going out tomorrow morning. My PR team will handle it. We'll make it official after that—engagement first, then the civil ceremony."
"Press?" I blinked, stepping back. "As in… the media? You're telling people?"
"Of course." He said it like it was obvious. "You think anyone would believe we suddenly got married in secret? The speculation would do more damage than the truth. Controlling the narrative is the only way to protect you."
"Protect me?" I repeated, scoffing. "You mean control me."
He looked at me for a long second, and the air shifted—less sharp, more honest. "Jane. The world already thinks it owns you. The only way to fight that is to make sure you decide how they see you."
That… shut me up for a moment.
Celine poked her head in just then, clearly having been eavesdropping. "So? Are we all good, or do I need to bring wine for this family meeting?"
Allen shot her a look that could've curdled milk. "She's fine."
Celine grinned. "That's not what her face says."
I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and threw it at her. She dodged, laughing her way out of the room.
When I turned back, Allen was staring at me again—less guarded now. "You'll start staying in the main wing tonight," he said simply.
"What happened to the guest room?"
"It's too far from me."
The words shouldn't have made my stomach flip, but they did.
He stepped past me, his cologne lingering in the air like static before a storm. "Tomorrow, 9 a.m. Be ready."
And then he was gone again, leaving me in a silence that hummed with everything unsaid.
Celine crept back in, arms folded. "He's bossy, but he's hot. That counts for something."
I groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "I think I just agreed to marry a storm."
"Good. Storms wipe out the weak stuff."
I didn't answer. My gaze drifted toward the window, where the sky was bruising into night. Somewhere deep down, a part of me, the part that wasn't terrified wondered if this was what it felt like to finally start taking back control.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. Inside, I whispered to myself,
"Let the storm come."
And for the first time, I actually meant it.
.
.
.
A message pinged on my phone afterwards, the contract of the conversation we just had and a few minutes later, William walked in, clutching a pile of papers in his arms.
"This is the marriage certificate and the job contract," He said, laying the papers before me with a pen.
"A secretary?" I asked as I scanned through the papers.
"Yes, because it's the closest you'd get to him, and the pay, it's quite handsome," He said with a small smile.
I clicked the pen and signed both the papers, while Celine walked towards me, pulling me into a hug.
"It'll be fine, we'll scale through this, a Year, two years at most and we'll be out of this, your husband, your father, everyone involved in this, they'll pay," she cooed, rubbing her hands down my body.
"Yes, they will, they have to."