Ella’s POV
I stared out the window as my father drove us to one of his ridiculously extravagant villas. It was his thing—having a luxurious base in every corner of the globe. And of course, it had to be this one tonight, far removed from my cozy little apartnt that, in his words, "wasn’t safe for a stray cat, let alone my daughter."
Honestly, I didn’t care about the villa or the safety concerns. What was eating at was how easily Jason went along with this whole contract marriage idea. He didn’t even flinch when I laid it all out. Sure, I expected so resistance or at least hesitation. But no, Jason was all in. He agreed so fast it almost made suspicious.
Well, not suspicious enough to change my mind.
I sighed, glancing at my father in the driver’s seat. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, his expression one of smug satisfaction. No doubt he thought he’d just secured his legacy and my future all in one brilliant move. Too bad he had no idea about the little twist in his master plan.
Yeah, I know when my father finds out I went behind his back and turned his proposal into a one-year contract marriage with Jason, he’ll flip. Probably scream. Maybe threaten to disown . But hey, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I just hope Jason can keep his mouth shut about the whole thing.
The thought of him blurting sothing stupid—like he almost did earlier—made groan inwardly. That guy was going to be the death of . If he’d managed to keep quiet, I wouldn’t be sitting here in this plush car, heading to a place I didn’t even want to go.
"Sothing on your mind, Ella?" my father asked, glancing at through the rearview mirror.
"Nope," I said quickly, offering him a fake smile. "Just tired."
He nodded, clearly satisfied with my answer. "Well, you’ll sleep better tonight knowing you’re not in that shoebox of an apartnt."
I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. He ant well—he always did, in his own controlling, infuriating way. But still, his constant interference made feel like I was suffocating.
When we finally pulled up to the villa, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the grandeur of it all. The sprawling mansion, the perfectly manicured gardens, the marble driveway—it was all so over-the-top, so Kingsley.
My father opened my door for , and I stepped out, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air.
"You’ll thank later," he said, patting my shoulder as he walked toward the entrance.
"Sure, Dad," I muttered under my breath, following him inside.
The villa was just as extravagant on the inside as it was on the outside. Crystal chandeliers, plush rugs, and artwork that probably cost more than my entire apartnt. I could practically hear my father’s voice in my head: This is how a Kingsley lives.
I let him lead to one of the guest rooms, where he paused at the door and turned to . "Get so rest. Tomorrow, we’ll start discussing the wedding arrangents."
"Can’t wait," I said sarcastically, earning a pointed look from him.
"Goodnight, Ella," he said firmly before walking away.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, I flopped onto the massive bed with a sigh.
A part of felt guilty for dragging Jason into this ss, but another part of couldn’t help but be impressed by how he handled my father. If he could just keep his cool and play along, this plan might actually work.
I grabbed my phone and sent Jason a quick text:
"Just got to the villa. My dad’s already talking wedding plans, so please—whatever you do—don’t let him corner you into anything crazy. And rember: not a word about the contract."
I stared at the screen for a mont before adding another ssage:
"Also, thanks. For agreeing to this. I know it’s a lot, but it ans a lot to ."
I hit send and stared at the ceiling, wondering how I’d ended up here. My life had always been about proving myself—proving I could be more than just Charles Kingsley’s daughter. And now, in so twisted way, this ridiculous contract marriage felt like another test.
But I’d pass this one, too.
Even if it ant putting up with Jason and his infuriating ability to almost blow our cover every five seconds.
After sending the texts to Jason, I stared at my phone, half-expecting him to call with so overdramatic reaction. Maybe he’d rant about how this whole thing was absurd or try to negotiate his way out of it. Honestly, I wouldn’t bla him.
But instead, my phone stayed silent.
"Good," I muttered to myself, tossing the device onto the plush duvet. "At least he’s smart enough to shut up for now."
I glanced around the ridiculously oversized guest room my father had so graciously designated for . The walk-in closet alone was bigger than my entire apartnt. The bed was draped in silk sheets, the kind that probably cost more than my monthly rent. And on the nightstand, there was a vase of fresh roses. Because, of course, my dad couldn’t let breathe without trying to bribe with luxury.
"Well, joke’s on you, Dad," I muttered as I plopped onto the bed and grabbed my laptop from my bag. "I don’t need silk sheets or roses. I need freedom, and this little ’marriage’ stunt is how I’m going to get it."
Flipping open the laptop, I started typing out the terms of our contract. If I was going to be forced into this farce of a marriage, it was going to be on my terms.
Marriage Contract Between Ella Kingsley and Jason King
Term of Marriage:
The marriage will last exactly one (1) year from the date of the wedding ceremony.
Public Image:
Both parties will maintain the appearance of a happily married couple in public, as deed necessary to satisfy Charles Kingsley’s expectations. Public displays of affection (PDA) will be limited to hand-holding, occasional hugs, and chaste kisses—nothing over the top. Let’s keep it PG, Jason.
Living Arrangents:
Both parties will reside in the sa household for the duration of the marriage. Separate bedrooms are a must. I don’t care how cute you think you are, Jason; I’m not sharing a bed.
Mutual Respect Clause:
Jason is not allowed to ddle in Ella’s business ventures or undermine her authority in front of Charles Kingsley or anyone else. Ella will refrain from belittling Jason’s opinions in public. Note: This does not apply in private, where her sassiness will remain unchecked.
No Falling in Love:
Under no circumstances is either party allowed to develop romantic feelings for the other. Seriously, Jason, don’t even think about it.
Termination Clause:
At the end of one year, both parties will amicably dissolve the marriage. If either party fails to adhere to the terms, the other party reserves the right to sue for damages. (Yes, I’m looking at you, Jason.)
I leaned back and read over the draft, a satisfied grin spreading across my face. "Perfect," I said, snapping the laptop shut. "A masterpiece of practicality and sass."
I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the screen before sending it to Jason.
"Here’s the first draft of our contract. Read it, morize it, and don’t even think about trying to negotiate the no-love clause. It’s non-negotiable."
Not five seconds later, my phone buzzed with his reply.
Jason: "No falling in love? You’re already assuming I’d fall for you? Confident much, Ella?"
I smirked and shot back:
"I’m just being realistic. Won like are irresistible. I’m doing this for your own good."
The typing indicator popped up almost imdiately.
Jason: "Sure, Ella. Keep telling yourself that. Just wait until you realize I’m the one you’ll fall for. Then what?"
I snorted at his audacity. "Not a chance, King. This is a business deal, not a romance novel. Stick to the script."
Before he could reply, I tossed my phone aside and stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The truth was, Jason’s little comnt had hit closer to ho than I cared to admit. Not because I thought he was right, but because I couldn’t afford for him to be.
This wasn’t so cheesy rom-com. This was my life, my future. And falling for Jason King? That was not part of the plan.
No, I’d play the part, get my father off my back, and then walk away. Clean break. No strings attached.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
I stared at Jason’s ssage, blinking a few tis as if my eyes were playing tricks on .
"But this clause doesn’t change the fact that I like you, and I think you know that since I already told you."
My first instinct was to laugh, but the little flutter in my chest made stop. What the hell was that?
I reread the text, trying to decide if he was serious or just ssing with . Jason had a way of sneaking in comnts like this, and while I was used to his humor, there was sothing about this that felt... different.
Before I could overthink it, I typed back:
"You must’ve hit your head or sothing. Did you forget the part where this is a business arrangent? Keep your feelings to yourself, Jason."
I hit send, my heart hamring in my chest. Why was I even reacting like this? It’s not like I didn’t already know Jason had a thing for —he’d made it clear enough in his subtle (and not-so-subtle) ways. But seeing it spelled out like that, in writing, made it feel... real.
My phone buzzed almost instantly.
Jason: "So, you’re just going to pretend you didn’t already know? Nice try, Ella. Denial looks good on you, though."
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Of course, he wasn’t going to let this go.
"Jason, I’m serious. This is a contract marriage. Feelings are not part of the deal."
Jason: "Right. A contract marriage. But you and I both know contracts can change. Just saying."
I sat up, my jaw dropping. Was he really trying to negotiate feelings into this like it was just another clause to tweak?
"Nope. Not happening. The no-feelings clause stays. Non-negotiable."
His reply ca quickly.
Jason: "Fine, but you can’t make stop liking you. That’s not how feelings work, Ella. And if you haven’t figured that out by now... well, you’ve got 365 days to learn."
I stared at his words, feeling a mix of annoyance and sothing I couldn’t quite place. Jason King was impossible.
"Keep dreaming, Jason. I’ve got bigger things to worry about than your feelings."
I threw my phone down, determined to ignore him for the rest of the night. But as I tried to focus on drafting the rest of the contract, his words kept echoing in my head.
"You can’t make stop liking you."
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
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