The morning sun barely pierced through the gray Manhattan sky as Amanda paced her modest apartment, the leather folder from Leonardo resting on her coffee table like a silent intruder. She had barely slept, her thoughts a whirlwind of disbelief, anger, and curiosity. Every time she tried to dismiss the proposition as absurd, the note at the bottom of the first page echoed in her mind: 'Sometimes, we must choose the lesser of two evils.'
Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. She glanced at the screen: an unknown number. Her instinct was to ignore it, but something urged her to answer.
"Hello?" she said cautiously.
"Amanda." Leonardo's deep, unmistakable voice sent a jolt through her. "We need to discuss the terms."
She gripped the phone tighter. "You can't seriously think I'm considering this."
"I do," he replied calmly. "And I've arranged a meeting to go over everything. Noon at Castelli Tower. I'll send a car."
"Wait—" she started, but he had already hung up.
Frustrated, Amanda stared at the phone. She knew she should refuse, but the lure of understanding his motives—and perhaps finding a way to turn him down on her terms—was too strong to ignore. By noon, she found herself stepping into the sleek black car waiting outside her building.
Castelli Tower was a monolith of glass and steel, towering over the city like a fortress. The elevator ride to the top floor was silent, the air thick with anticipation. When the doors opened, Amanda was greeted by a sharply dressed assistant who led her into a sprawling office with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Manhattan.
Leonardo stood near his desk, his back to her as he stared out at the city. He turned as she approached, his expression unreadable.
"Thank you for coming," he said, gesturing to a leather armchair opposite his desk.
Amanda sat, crossing her arms defensively. "I'm not agreeing to anything, just so we're clear."
His lips quirked in what might have been amusement. "Of course. But you deserve to hear the details before making your decision."
He sat across from her, sliding a new folder across the desk. She hesitated before opening it, her eyes scanning the document's crisp pages. The words blurred together until he began to speak.
"The terms are straightforward," he said, his tone measured. "A one-year marriage. During that time, you'll receive a substantial monthly allowance, full financial coverage for any personal needs, and funding for your art career."
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "My art career?"
"I know you haven't pursued it because of financial constraints," he said, his gaze steady. "This arrangement changes that."
Amanda's throat tightened. The idea of finally being able to create again, without the constant pressure of survival, was almost too tempting. But the price…
"In return," Leonardo continued, "you'll be required to attend public events as my wife, maintain the appearance of a stable marriage, and adhere to the conditions outlined in the contract."
She flipped to the next page, her eyes catching on a section labeled Boundaries. "Conditions like what?"
"No intimacy," he said bluntly. "This is a business arrangement, nothing more. We'll maintain separate living spaces within the same residence, and our interactions will be limited to what's necessary for appearances."
Amanda's brows furrowed. "And what happens after a year?"
"The marriage will be annulled," he replied. "You'll walk away with the financial security to pursue your dreams, and I'll have fulfilled my obligations to my family."
The cold practicality of it all made her skin crawl. "Why do you even need this? What kind of obligations are we talking about?"
Leonardo's jaw tightened. For a moment, Amanda thought he wouldn't answer. Then, he said, "My family's position in certain… circles requires stability. A marriage deters alliances and enemies from exploiting perceived weaknesses."
It was vague, but the weight in his words hinted at deeper dangers. "And you couldn't find someone from your world to do this?"
"I don't trust anyone in my world," he said simply. "You're an outsider. That makes you the safest choice."
Amanda leaned back, her mind racing. The offer was outrageous, but it was also calculated, almost impossibly rational. And yet, there was something in Leonardo's eyes—a flicker of something unspoken—that made her wonder if there was more to his motives.
"I still don't see why I should agree," she said finally. "You're asking me to put my life on hold, to live in your shadow for a year. What's in it for me beyond money?"
He studied her for a long moment before responding. "Freedom. The kind you've never had. The chance to shape your future without fear of falling apart."
The words struck a nerve. Amanda thought of her tiny apartment, her grueling hours at the gallery, and the dreams she'd buried under the weight of practicality. But even as temptation tugged at her, doubt gnawed at the edges.
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
Leonardo's expression didn't change, but his tone hardened. "Refusal isn't without risk. My world has already touched yours, Amanda. Whether you like it or not, you're in the shadows now. This arrangement offers protection—not just for you, but for those you care about."
The implication chilled her. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a fact," he said quietly. "One I wish you didn't have to face."
Amanda stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the polished floor. "I need time to think."
"Take all the time you need," Leonardo said, rising as well. "But know this: the longer you wait, the more dangerous the game becomes."
His words followed her out of the office, the folder clutched tightly in her hands. By the time she returned to her apartment, her head was spinning. She spread the contract across her kitchen table, reading and rereading every line, searching for loopholes, hidden traps, anything to explain why she felt so torn.
As night fell, she found herself staring out her window, the city lights flickering like distant stars. Leonardo Castelli was a man of many layers, and she had barely scratched the surface. But one thing was clear: whatever decision she made, there would be no turning back.
Her phone buzzed again, another message from an unknown number. This time, it was a single line:
The clock is ticking.
Amanda's grip tightened on the phone as she looked back at the contract. The terms were clear, the stakes even clearer. But beneath the cold logic of it all, she sensed something else—an undercurrent of desperation in Leonardo's offer, a vulnerability he tried to hide behind his stoic exterior.
For a moment, she wondered: Was she stepping into his world to help him—or to save herself?
The question lingered as she turned off the light, leaving the contract untouched on the table. But in the darkness, she knew the shadows were waiting, ready to pull her in.