Chapter 4: Prenuptial Clash
Aria's conference room smelled like defeat.
Or maybe it was just the stale coffee her lawyer, Martin, had spilled on the mahogany table. He'd been sweating since 8 a.m., his tailored suit straining over hunched shoulders as he shuffled papers stamped "CONFIDENTIAL." Across the table, Kai lounged in a chair, boots propped on the table, scrolling through his phone. His lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a leather moto jacket sipped black espresso without breaking eye contact with Aria.
"Ms. Sterling," Martin began, mopping his brow, "per our discussions, the prenuptial agreement ensures total financial separation. Mr. Donovan will receive the agreed-upon $17 million upon dissolution, provided he adheres to strict nondisclosure terms. Any breach voids payment and triggers litigation."
Kai's lawyer, Naomi, snorted. "Cute. Let's gut clause 4B."
Aria's pen froze. "Excuse me?"
Naomi slid the document back, her smirk a mirror of Kai's. "The 'no questions, no access' bit. My client doesn't do blindfolds. If he's playing husband, he gets full visibility into Sterling Tech operations. Including board meetings."
"Out of the question." Aria's voice could've flash-frozen the room. "This is a marriage contract, not a corporate takeover."
Kai finally looked up, locking eyes with her. "You're the one who said 'convincing.' Can't do that if I'm locked out of your shiny boardroom, Queen."
Martin flinched at the nickname. "Ms. Sterling's intellectual property requires—"
"Save it." Kai dropped his feet to the floor, leaning forward. "Add clause 4C: I get read-only access to financials and attend all executive meetings. No edits, just eyes. Or I walk."
Aria's nails bit crescents into her palms. "You're here to pretend, not meddle."
"And you're here to survive*." His gaze darkened. "Your board's already sniffing for weaknesses. A clueless husband's a liability. Let me be an asset."
"An asset?" She arched her brow. "You're a bodyguard, not a strategist."
"And you're a control freak who's one scandal from a coup."He tossed his phone onto the table, displaying a news alert: STERLING HEIRESS HOUSING MYSTERY MAN LOVER OR PAID PAWN? "They're coming for you, Aria. Let me help."
The sound of her name on his lips rough, intimate ignited a spark low in her stomach. She crushed it.
"Fine. Clause 4C stays. With limitations."
"No limitations," Naomi countered. "And we're adding clause 7D: Mutual respect. No unilateral decisions affecting both parties. That includes security overrides."
Aria's laugh was brittle. "This isn't a democracy."
"No," Kai said softly. "It's a partnership."
The word hung between them, a dare.
Two hours later, Aria stormed onto her private terrace, the skyline blurring under her furious glare. The lawyers were still inside, arguing over indemnity clauses, but she'd needed air. Needed to escape the way Kai's knee had brushed hers under the table, electric and infuriating.
"Running again?"
She didn't turn. "I don't run."
"Could've fooled me." Kai joined her at the railing, close enough that his sleeve brushed her arm. Below them, Manhattan buzzed like a hive she'd once commanded. Now, it feels foreign.
"You're overstepping," she said.
"You're underprepared." He nodded at the city. "Your board's got three members linked to your dad's old partners. They're not gonna play nice just because you put on a wedding ring."
"I don't need your conspiracy theories."
"It's not a theory." He pulled a folded photo from his pocket, a grainy shot of her CFO, Evelyn Shaw, entering a garage with a man in a hoodie. "Recognize him?"
Aria's breath hitched. The man's tattooed knuckles, a serpent coiled around a dagger, matched the shooter from the gala.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.
"You didn't ask." He tucked the photo away. "That's the problem, Queen. You think you can ice everyone out. But this?"He gestured between them. "Only works if we trust each other."
"Trust is a liability."
"So's arrogance." He stepped closer, his heat searing her side. "Sign the damn clauses. Let me in."
Aria turned, their faces inches apart. "Or what?"
"Or I'll start sharing my theories with the press. How's that for liability?"
She slapped him.
The crack echoed off the glass walls. Kai's head snapped sideways, his cheek reddening, but he didn't move. Didn't blink.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"No." Her palm throbbed.
"Good." He caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "Now stop fighting me. We're on the same side."
For a heartbeat, she almost believed him.
Then her phone rang Evelyn's ID flashing. Aria pulled free, ice resettling over her panic. "This isn't over."
"Never is with you."
By midnight, the prenup was signed, with clause 4C and 7D intact.
Aria stared at the document, Kai's loopy signature beside her precise script. A relic of her surrender.
"Happy?" she asked as he lingered in her office doorway.
"Getting there." He nodded at the decanter. "Celebratory drink?"
"I don't celebrate."
"First time for everything." He poured two glasses, handing her one. "To partnerships."
She didn't clink. "To survival."
The whiskey burned, but not as much as his smile.
"Sweet dreams, partner," he said, vanishing down the hall.
Aria waited until his footsteps faded before opening her desk vault. Inside, beside her mother's ring, lay the photo Kai had given her. Evelyn and the serpent-knuckled man.
Trust is a liability.
But as she traced the serpent's fangs, she wondered if betrayal might be worse.