Chapter 4 THE CONTRACT

Ava could hardly fathom that she was now positioned before the office of Julian Blackwood; the glossy glass doors mirrored the unforgiving morning light. The edifice was immaculate-sleek, contemporary and somewhat frigid. Everything about it exuded opulence and authority, causing a knot to tighten in Ava's stomach. She had never before entered a space that felt so... daunting. The reception area was void of people, except for a few strategically placed potted plants in the corners and a minimalist desk where a young woman sat, her attention glued to the computer screen.

The woman glanced up as Ava drew near, her expression inscrutable yet courteous. "Can I assist you?" the receptionist inquired, her tone as composed as the marble floors beneath Ava's feet. Clearing her throat, Ava responded, "I have an appointment with Mr. Blackwood." The receptionist acknowledged her with a nod, her fingers already tapping away at the keyboard. "Right. He's anticipating your arrival. Please take a seat; he'll join you shortly."

Ava experienced a moment of hesitation; her nerves began to bubble up once again as she settled into one of the sleek leather chairs. She had adequately prepared for this meeting: conducted her research and rehearsed her lines. However, now that she found herself here-on the precipice of a decision that could alter the course of her life-she felt uncertain. A part of her yearned to turn back, to exit and abandon this entire notion. But another aspect of her-the part that had endured for years, that had witnessed her mother toil to the point of exhaustion merely to keep food on the table-understood she could not afford to walk away from this opportunity.

She had to make this work.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to Julian's office finally opened and a tall figure entered the reception area. Julian Blackwood, attired in his customary impeccable suit, greeted her with a smile that appeared both sincere and calculating. His eyes were sharp, evaluating her as he extended a hand. "Ava, I'm glad you could make it," Julian remarked, his voice smooth and inviting. Ava grasped his hand, feeling the firm grip and nodded. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Blackwood." "Please, call me Julian," he replied, guiding her into his office. "And I appreciate your willingness to meet with me. I understand this is somewhat unorthodox, however, I believe we could both gain from what I'm proposing." His office was expansive, the walls adorned with bookshelves, some filled with business literature, while others showcased art-abstract pieces, portraits and a few items that, at first glance, seemed almost incongruous. The desk was large, constructed of dark wood with polished edges and upon it rested a few disordered papers and a laptop. There was an atmosphere of control in every aspect-right down to the manner in which Julian organized his space.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured towards the chair opposite his desk, where a sleek black leather chair awaited her arrival. Ava settled into the chair, her mind racing while her fingers nervously twisted the hem of her dress. "Would you prefer coffee or tea?" Julian inquired as he eased himself into his own chair, leaning forward slightly. "No, thank you," Ava responded, shaking her head. She had come here with a specific intention and although she appreciated his hospitality, she needed to remain focused. "So... what exactly are you proposing?" Julian's gaze softened for a moment; however, an underlying intensity remained in his eyes. "I want to make a deal with you, Ava. You're an artist with significant potential, but I understand the struggle-the financial stress and the constant battle for recognition. I've witnessed this happen to too many artists. You possess talent, but you require the right kind of exposure. I can provide that for you." Ava's heart skipped a beat. She had anticipated something like this, but hearing it articulated made the reality of the situation even more overwhelming. "Exposure...?"

"Not merely exposure," Julian asserted, his tone both firm and reassuring. "It's a partnership. You possess the creativity; I possess the resources. Together, we can create something substantial." Ava frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion. "I don't understand. What type of partnership are we discussing?" Julian leaned back in his chair, his gaze locking with hers. "I've been searching for an individual who can assist me with a project. I'm entangled in a significant business deal and the stipulations of this deal necessitate that I'm married. However, my personal life isn't exactly... conventional. Therefore, I require someone to help me uphold the appropriate image. I'm proposing a marriage contract." Ava blinked, convinced she hadn't comprehended him correctly. "A what?" "A contract marriage," Julian reiterated, his voice steady and measured. "It's straightforward: a one-year arrangement. In return for your public role as my wife, I will furnish you with the financial backing necessary for your art. You will gain access to my networks and resources and, most importantly, you won't need to fret about the bills any longer. Your work will receive funding, your studio will be maintained and you'll have the opportunity to concentrate entirely on your art."

Ava gazed at him, struggling to comprehend his words. A marriage contract? It appeared too bizarre to be legitimate, resembling more of a commercial agreement than a personal commitment. She parted her lips to respond; however, her throat felt parched. "I realize this sounds unconventional," Julian remarked, his tone both soft and resolute. "But consider it: you obtain the financial autonomy you require and I acquire the assurance of a favorable public persona. A year, Ava. That's all I'm asking for. Just a year." Ava's thoughts raced. This situation transcended her art. It involved more than merely selling paintings or attaining fame. This presented an opportunity much grander-a means to secure her future, to alleviate the anxiety about keeping the lights on. Yet, at what price? A marriage contract? It felt like a risk, one she wasn't certain she was ready to embrace. She examined Julian, attempting to decipher his intentions. His expression was inscrutable, but his eyes-those eyes-appeared sincere. Nevertheless, a nagging part of her couldn't dismiss the notion that this was merely a business arrangement for him. She found herself questioning what he perceived in her, why he believed she was the ideal candidate for such an agreement.

"What do you gain from this?" Ava inquired cautiously, her tone softer than she had anticipated. Julian's lips formed a subtle smile as he leaned in, his stare piercing. "The arrangement I'm pursuing necessitates a particular... image. Marriage will provide that. However, beyond this, I acquire a partner who can support me-someone who won't merely be a facade, but an individual I can rely on, someone who comprehends the demands of the world I inhabit." Ava found herself uncertain about the veracity of his words. Trust? Could she truly trust him? Yet, on the other hand, what alternative did she possess? The other option was ambiguity-persisting in her cramped studio, yearning for an opportunity that might elude her. Her heart raced within her chest and she stole a glance at her hands, attempting to calm her swirling thoughts. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, she raised her eyes to connect with Julian's. "How can I ascertain that this is genuine?" she queried, her voice quavering slightly. "How can I be sure you're not merely seeking someone to assume a role and vanish afterward?"

Julian's expression softened and for the first time, his smile appeared genuinely warm. "I'm not asking you to assume a role. I'm requesting that you take a leap of faith. This could be beneficial for both of us, Ava: a partnership. I recognize it's unconventional, but it could indeed succeed." She felt the weight of the decision pressing heavily on her shoulders. It was a risk-no doubt about it-but it also represented an opportunity that might never arise again. Julian wasn't merely offering her financial stability; he was presenting her with a chance to transform her life. Ava inhaled deeply, steeling herself for what lay ahead. "Alright," she replied, her voice resolute. "I'll do it. I'll sign the contract." Julian's eyes flickered with a blend of approval and something else-perhaps satisfaction, or even something more profound. He nodded and slid a sleek document across the table toward her. "Good," he stated simply. "Let's make this work, Ava."