Chapter 12 - Callahan
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I showed up unannounced and asked her to marry me, though for some reason I expected her to say no.
On our date, we spoke about my dilemma: being forced into a marriage of convenience.
She volunteered to help, but I expected her to reconsider after a couple of days.
I guess I was wrong. The first thing she did was get someone to cover her shift, then insisted we go to my office so we could have some privacy.
Hence, she was sitting across from me, her eyes shining brightly in the soft light.
"We can go right now,” she said without an ounce of hesitation.
“Right now?” I repeated, my brain suddenly turning to mush.
“Yes.” She blinked at me, brows knitting slightly. “You look surprised.”
“I am,” I said honestly. “I guess I shouldn’t be, but I am.”
She studied me for a moment, as if gauging whether I was teasing her or I really didn't think she'd say yes. “You thought I'd change my mind.”
I opened my mouth to lie, then closed it. Why pretend with her? My words came out rough: "I thought… that you might change your mind. After you had time to really think, you'd realize it's not as simple as it looks."
She nodded slowly, like that was a reasonable assumption. “And yet here we are.”
Here we were.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
“Yes,” she grinned, not giving me the chance to question her decision. "I've wanted this for so long."
I froze, her words echoing in my chest. What exactly did she mean by wanting this? My pulse quickened with hope and confusion.
“I would obviously compensate you,” I said, breaking the silence because it was starting to feel suffocating. “Generously. This wouldn’t be charity. It would be a contractual agreement for two years.”
Evania tilted her head slightly, her hazel eyes still fixed on me. “Two years?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Two years should be long enough to convince my parents and the board that I can commit to something as demanding as marriage. That I’m stable. Reliable. Capable of… long-term responsibility.”
I didn’t say, or they’ll strip me of the CEO position, but it hovered between us anyway.
She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms loosely across her chest. That should have been my first warning. “And after two years, we'd get a divorce?"
"That's the plan."
“And the narrative is… what? That you tried marriage, decided it wasn’t for you, and walked away?”
I frowned. “That’s oversimplifying it.”
“Is it?” she asked gently.
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. Because the more I replayed it in my head, the more it sounded exactly like that.
She continued before I could even gather my thoughts. “In my humble opinion, that looks less like growth and more like confirmation of everything they already think about you.”
I stared at her, shocked but also impressed by her logic. She continued without giving me a chance to speak.
“If you marry me - someone with no wealth, no prestigious family name, no corporate influence - and then divorce me two years later, it doesn’t exactly prove you're a responsible and family-driven person,” she said. “It looks like you played house and got bored.”
For the third time today, all I could do was look at her—my throat tight, my pulse rushing.
I had arrived so sure of myself, the architect of this moment, certain I’d keep control.
But in less than a minute, she stripped my logic bare, leaving my confidence unraveling.
She looked at me like I was already hers, wanting me for more than two years.
The thought didn't repel me, but uncertainty buzzed beneath my skin—what did she truly want?
“I-” I stopped, exhaled sharply, and scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “You’re assuming they’d see it that way.”
She raised a brow. “You don’t think they would?”
I had no answer.
Because the truth was… she was right. I’d spent years negotiating contracts worth billions, anticipating every angle, every objection. And somehow I’d completely overlooked my parents plotting against me.
“That’s why,” she continued, “if you’re going to do this, you can’t treat it like a countdown.”
I straightened. “What do you mean?”
She leaned forward now, resting her forearms on the desk between us, closing the distance just enough that I could smell her perfume—something subtle and warm that absolutely did not belong in a room where I was trying to keep my head clear.
“I mean,” she said, “you’d have to treat it like a real marriage.”
The words landed like a punch to the chest.
A real marriage.
My gaze flicked away from her instinctively, scanning the office - the leather chairs, the polished desk, the framed artwork on the wall—as if any of it could ground me.
She really was suggesting we have a real marriage.
Heat crept up my neck, my face warming in a way I was painfully aware of.
This was not how this was supposed to go.
Even when I anticipated what she wanted, it still took me by surprise.
“You’re suggesting,” I said carefully, “that we don’t plan the divorce.”
“I’m suggesting,” she replied gently, “that if you want this to work, you can’t walk into it already planning the ending.”
I swallowed. God help me, she sounded like she actually meant it.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted by the idea—if only I knew she wanted me, not just what I could provide. That uncertainty left me aching, vulnerable, and suddenly aware of how defenseless emotion could make me. All my life, logic was armor—but now, feelings threatened to slip beneath it.
So I did what I always did when I felt exposed. I changed the topic.
“There would be rules,” I said, straightening my posture, forcing my voice back into something businesslike. “Clear boundaries.”
Her lips curved slightly. “I assumed as much.”
“For starters,” I continued, “fidelity. There would be no affairs, no scandals, no one-night stands.”
“And that applies to you as well,” she said, looking thoroughly amused.
I didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
She studied me again, as if testing the sincerity of that answer.
“I have no desire to cheat on my wife,” I added. “Whether this marriage is based on love or not.”
The word wife felt strange in my mouth. Heavy. Permanent.
Her smile softened, just a fraction. “Good.”
We went over the rest quickly—public appearances, living arrangements, confidentiality. Each agreement felt less like a contract and more like laying bricks around something I wasn’t ready to name. Finally, there was nothing left to discuss.
I reached for the phone on my desk, suddenly grateful we were at my office, where things could stay a secret for as long as I needed them to. “I’ll have my assistant bring in my lawyer. We can draw up the contract now.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Now?”
“No sense delaying,” I said. “If we’re doing this, we do it properly.”
I pressed the intercom. “Troy?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Send in my lawyer. Immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
I didn’t expect the sound of my own signature to feel so final.
I closed the folder and looked up at Evania, who was perched on the edge of my desk, as if this were any other day and not the moment she legally tethered herself to a stranger with too much money and too many expectations.
“Well,” she said lightly, swinging one foot. “That was painless.”
I scoffed. “That was a five–page legal document.”
She smiled. “Exactly. I’ve read worse.”
That should’ve been my second warning that this woman was not at all what I thought I was getting into. I stood, buttoned my jacket, and nodded toward the door. “Come on. We’re already late.”
“For what?” she asked, sliding off the desk and grabbing her bag.
“For you to marry me.”
She blinked once. Then twice. “Right. That.”
The drive to Theo’s place was quiet, but not uncomfortable.
The city blurred past the windows, steel and glass giving way to quieter streets and tree-lined neighborhoods.
My grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles pale, while Evania leaned back in the passenger seat like she was on her way to brunch.
“You always this tense?” she asked, glancing at me.
“Only when my entire future is riding on the next hour,” I replied dryly.
She hummed. “You should try breathing.”
I shot her a look. She grinned.
Theo’s house came into view—a modern place tucked behind a tall iron gate, all clean lines and warm lighting. After entering the security code, I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.
“This is your best friend?” she asked.
“Yeah, he's one of the few people who doesn’t work for me or want something from me,” I said. “He’s ordained. Got certified online to impress a woman.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Of course he did.”
Theo opened the door before I even rang the bell, wearing sweats and an expression that shifted rapidly from surprise to suspicion.
“Cal?” he said. “Why do you look like you’re about to commit a felony?”
“Good to see you too,” I replied, stepping inside. “I need you to marry us.”
He stared at me. Then at Evania. Then back at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly, “you want me to what?”
“Marry us,” I repeated. “Now. Preferably before my parents find a way to sabotage this.”
Theo laughed once, sharp and incredulous. “You show up unannounced, demand I officiate a wedding, and don’t think I’m going to ask questions?”
“I think you’re going to ask a lot of questions,” I said. “But I recommend doing it after you marry us.”
He turned to Evania, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Blink twice if he kidnapped you.”
She laughed. Actually laughed. “He didn’t kidnap me. I promise.”
Theo crossed his arms. “That’s exactly what someone being held hostage would say.”
“I signed a contract,” she added. “Very willingly.”
Theo’s eyes widened. “There’s a contract?”
“Yes,” she said cheerfully. “He’s very thorough.”
I shot her a look. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” she admitted.
Theo dragged a hand down his face. “Cal, you are insane.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “But this is happening.”
Theo studied us for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then he sighed. “You know I’m going to help her escape if she changes her mind, right?”
Evania smiled at him, soft but sure. “I appreciate that, but I’m right where I want to be.”
That seemed to settle it.
“Alright,” Theo said finally. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. At least as properly as a living room wedding can be.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were standing in front of his fireplace. Theo had changed into something resembling real clothes. Evania stood beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her arm through the thin fabric of her blouse.
This was supposed to be strategic. Controlled. A means to an end. So why did my chest feel tight?
Theo cleared his throat. “We are gathered here today,” he began, smirking, “very unexpectedly, to join Callahan Sterling and what's your name?"
“Evania Blackwell,” she grinned, seemingly unoffended that I totally forgot to introduce them.
Theo nodded. “To join Callahan Sterling and Evania Blackwell in marriage. This isn’t traditional. It isn’t romantic. And it definitely wasn’t planned.”
Evania glanced at him. “Speak for yourself.”
Theo continued, after side-eyeing her. “But marriage is about partnership. About choosing each other, for whatever reason, brought you here.”
His eyes met mine briefly, sharp and knowing. Then he turned to Evania. “Do you, Evania, take Callahan to be your husband?”
She responded immediately. “I do.”
The words landed heavier than I expected.
Theo turned to me. “Do you, Callahan, take Evania to be your wife?”
I swallowed. “I do.”
Theo smiled. “By the power vested in me by the internet and the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
He stepped back. “You may kiss the bride.”
I turned to face Evania, noting how her eyes seemed to sparkle even now. I leaned in and turned my head slightly, aiming for her cheek. Just before I could, she moved. Her hand came up, fingers curling into the lapel of my jacket, and she turned her head at the last second. Our lips met.
It was brief but deliberate, a kiss that sent a jolt straight through my spine. I froze for half a second too long before she pulled away, her eyes bright, lips curved into a satisfied smile.
“Well,” she said, voice warm and certain. “Hello, husband.”
Theo made a choking sound. “Oh. Oh wow.”
I stared at her, heart pounding, mind scrambling to catch up with my body. “That wasn’t—”
“In the contract?” she finished sweetly. “No. But neither was the part where you looked like you forgot how to breathe.”
Theo burst out laughing. “I like her.”