Page 18 of The Billionaire’s Contract Bride

“My mother survived the procedure. You authorized payment before I signed anything.” She stepped closer to him. “Maybe I was wrong, Damien. Maybe you need this marriage more than I do.”

A dangerous flicker ignited in his gray eyes. “Careful, Aria.”

“Remove the obedience clause.”

“And what do I receive in return?”

“A wife who doesn’t actively sabotage you before the wedding.”

His gaze held hers. “You will hate me eventually.”

The cold certainty in his voice was chilling.

“Then why are you doing this?”

Damien turned his gaze toward the city lights beyond the glass. For a fraction of a second, the iron control flickered.

“Because hate is not the opposite of love,” he said quietly. “Indifference is.”

He picked up his phone and made a brief call as one of the lawyers took the folder from the room. “Prepare the final execution copy. Omit Clause Thirty-One. Integrate all handwritten revisions, mutual fidelity, protected medical coverage, and the escrow deposit.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back down.

Aria blinked. “Just like that?”

“No.”

Damien closed the distance between them until her legs pressed back against the table. He didn’t touch her, but his proximity was overwhelming.

“You wanted the obedience clause removed. It is gone,” his voice dropped to a low whisper that pulled her in despite herself. “But understand this, Aria: ink on paper has never been what makes people obey me.”

Aria’s breath hitched. “Fear?”

“Sometimes.”

“Money?”

“Often.” His eyes dipped to her lips.

“And the rest?”

“Desire.”

The word landed like a lit match on dry grass.

Aria stepped sideways, creating distance between them. “You are remarkably confident for a man paying someone to marry him.”

“And you are remarkably curious for a woman who claims to despise me.”

Before she could reply, Lucien Cross and the lawyer entered the suite carrying a fresh, pristine black leather binder. He placed it on the table and offered Damien a brief, unreadable glance.

“The revised agreement,” Lucien said. “And the escrow wire confirmation.”

Aria opened the folder. Every single modification was neatly typed into the text: Her mother’s medical coverage was secured regardless of marital status. Her private room locked. The tracking mechanism was replaced by emergency protocols restricted to public events or credible threats. The fidelity clause bound them both.

Clause Thirty-One was gone.

An attached banking receipt confirmed that $500,000 had been wired into an independent escrow account pending execution.