Chapter 115 The Contract #2
"Understood," Pemberton said, adjusting his screen. "What about marital fidelity? Do you require a mutual exclusivity clause?"
"Yes," Dominic said instantly, his voice ringing out at the exact same moment Clara uttered a breathless, "Yes."
They looked back at each other, and despite the stark, clinical coldness of the legal proceedings, Clara felt something profoundly warm and tender unfurl deep within her chest.
"For the entire duration of the two-year marriage, both parties agree to total sexual and romantic exclusivity," Pemberton dictated, typing out the clause.
"Any proven violation of this mandate by either party will constitute legal grounds for the immediate, hostile dissolution of the contract. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Clara and Dominic answered in perfect unison.
"And finally, children?" Chen asked, looking over the top of his glasses. "Do you wish to formally address the potential of biological offspring resulting from this union?"
Clara’s breath caught sharply in her throat.
She hadn't allowed her mind to wander down that path. She hadn't dared to let herself visualize it - the terrifying, beautiful concept of carrying Dominic’s child. Of building a real, blood-bound family with the ruthless man lying in the hospital bed.
"If it happens, it happens," Dominic said quietly, his gaze dropping to Clara's lips before rising to meet her eyes.
"But it is not an expectation of this contract. However, should Ms. Quinn become pregnant during the duration of the marriage, any children born of this union will be legally recognized as joint offspring with full,
equal custody rights and permanent financial support protocols - regardless of whether the marriage continues past the designated two-year mark."
"Agreed," Clara whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Pemberton and Chen spent the next hour meticulously hammering out the remaining boilerplate items - medical proxies, emergency health protocols, media blackouts, and the exact stipulations required for an early termination of the contract.
By the time the two lawyers finally stood up to pack away their equipment, Clara's head was spinning from the sheer weight of the legal jargon.
"We will have the formal document drafted and processed by tomorrow afternoon," Pemberton said, smoothing the front of his suit jacket. "You will both need to review the final text carefully, and then we will execute the official signing. I presume timing is of the essence?"
"As quickly as possible," Dominic confirmed. "We want the marriage legalized and recorded before I am officially discharged from this ward."
Pemberton’s eyebrows arched once more, but he maintained his professional boundary. "We will make it happen, Mr. Ashford. I'll be in touch."
The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind the legal team, a profound silence descended upon the hospital room.
"Are you absolutely certain about this?" Clara asked quietly, breaking the stillness. She looked down at their joined hands. "It isn't too late to tear those notes up. It's not too late to change your mind."
"I have never been more certain of anything in my life," Dominic replied, his dark eyes fiercely sincere. "Are you?"
Clara took a slow breath, truly weighing the reality of what she was about to do.
Two full years of her life, legally, bindingly shackled to a powerful man she had known for less than two months. Two years of occupying his massive estate, raising his young daughter, and playing the flawless role of a doting billionaire's wife. Two years of pretending.
Except... she wouldn't truly be pretending at all, would she?
Because she loved him. She had already fallen completely, helplessly in love with him. And looking at him now, two years suddenly felt like an agonizingly short amount of time.
"I am certain," Clara whispered.
The official contract arrived the following afternoon - a thick, heavy document bound in professional leather, dense with rigid legal language, clauses, and endless subclauses. Clara read through every single line twice, her eyes scanning the precise words.
It was all there, exactly as they had dictated. Physical protection. The financial boundaries. The custody mandates. And, of course, the expiration date.
Exactly two years from the date of the ceremony, the contract would lapse.
At that point, both parties would possess a strict thirty-day window to either formally renew the vows or legally dissolve the marriage.
If they chose dissolution, the separation would be clinically clean.
No alimony. No messy division of corporate assets.
They would simply sign the papers and walk away, as though marriage had never existed.
Except it would exist. And Clara knew, deep in her very bones, that walking away from Dominic when the clock ran out was going to be completely impossible.
But she picked up the pen and signed her name anyway.
Dominic executed his signature an hour later, his writing bold, jagged, and decisive despite the slight tremor in his fingers from his lingering pain medication.
Pemberton and Chen witnessed the signatures, stamped the documents with a notary seal, and immediately filed the paperwork with the city authorities.
"Congratulations," Pemberton stated, though his guarded tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced congratulations were culturally appropriate. "You are now legally bound by the terms of this contract. The marriage ceremony may proceed at your earliest convenience."
"Tomorrow," Dominic commanded. "We do it tomorrow."
The wedding was absolutely nothing like the fairytale ceremonies Clara had envisioned as a young girl. There was no historic church, no towering floral arrangements, and no guest list of hundreds of clad in black-tie attire.
Instead, it took place within the sterile, white-walled confines of Dominic's recovery room, officiated by a local registrar who had agreed to a short-notice hospital visit, witnessed by only a tight circle of the people they trusted most.
Celina stood directly beside her sister, her fingers locked tightly around Clara's hand, tears streaming openly down her cheeks.
Justin stood right behind his wife; a protective arm wrapped around Celina's shoulders while his other arm held little Leo, who was utterly transfixed by the blinking medical monitors.
Jasmine was there too, practically vibrating with excitement.
She wore a beautiful, pale pink dress that Celina had rushed out to purchase for her, her small hands gripping a tightly bound bouquet of fresh flowers.
She had been gently told that Clara was officially going to become her new mother, and the little girl had been so overjoyed she had barely slept a wink the night before.
In the corner of the room stood Derek Cooper.
He remained characteristically silent, his broad shoulders squared and his expression unreadable, but his alert, scanning gaze served as a stark reminder that the threat against them wasn't entirely buried.
Nearby stood Adrian Cole, who had recently been fully exonerated of all administrative charges and was now actively embedding himself with federal authorities to systematically dismantle the remnants of Hale's underground network.
And stationed directly by the heavy wooden door was Samuel Torres. He was no longer just a hired bodyguard; he was a true friend. His sharp eyes scanned the perimeter out of pure habit, though his jaw was tight as he fought back against the rare threat of his own emotional tears.
Clara wore a simple, cream-colored structural dress that Celina had retrieved from her apartment.
It wasn't elaborate or traditional, but it tailored beautifully to her frame, making her feel elegant despite the sterile surroundings.
Dominic remained in his hospital-issued attire and a dark robe, still unable to navigate structured clothing without severe physical pain.
But he had absolutely insisted on standing for the vows.
The nursing staff had finally relented under his glare, positioning his rolling IV pole directly beside him to act as a brace for support.
The registrar was a kind-faced, silver-haired woman who had officiated hundreds of weddings throughout her long career, and she didn't bat an eye at the highly unusual environment.
"We are gathered here today," she began, her clear voice echoing in the quiet room.
Clara felt her pulse spike, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. This is real. It’s actually happening. She was about to become Dominic Ashford's wife.
"Marriage is a sacred, profound commitment," the registrar continued. "A solemn promise to stand fiercely beside one another through joy and sorrow, through health and sickness, and through all the unpredictable challenges that life may bring."