The morning sun sliced through the penthouse windows, ruthless and bright.
Eunice sat at the long marble dining table, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea she hadn't touched. The events of the Gala felt like a fever dream—the flashing lights, Vanessa's screams, Hart's hand on her waist claiming her as his property.
Across from her, Hart Matthew was already dressed. He wore a charcoal grey suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his iPad propped up next to a black coffee. He looked as if he hadn't just destroyed a woman's life twelve hours ago.
"Eat your toast, Eunice," Hart said without looking up from his screen. "The babies need carbohydrates."
"I'm not hungry," Eunice whispered.
"Dr. Liam says otherwise," Hart replied calmly, sliding a plate of buttered toast toward her. "Eat."
He tapped his screen one final time, then set the iPad aside. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick document bound in a blue leather folder. He placed it in the center of the table.
The sound of the heavy folder hitting the marble echoed like a gavel.
"What is this?" Eunice asked, eyeing it warily.
"Your protection," Hart stated. "And the babies' future."
He opened the folder.
"The engagement I announced last night wasn't just for the cameras, Eunice. My grandmother is already plotting her next move. Vanessa's family is desperate. The only way to legally insulate you and the twins from their attacks is marriage."
He pushed a Montblanc pen toward her.
"Sign it."
Eunice picked up the document. PRENUPTIAL AND CUSTODY AGREEMENT.
She flipped through the pages. The financial terms were staggering.
Clause 4: The wife receives a monthly allowance of $50,000.
Clause 7: Upon the birth of the heirs, a trust fund of $10 million will be established in the mother's name.
It was enough money to buy an island. Madam Matthew had offered her five million to leave; Hart was offering her ten million to stay.
But then, her eyes caught Clause 14B.
She stopped. Her blood ran cold. She read it again, hoping she had misunderstood the legal jargon.
"In the event of a dissolution of marriage initiated by the Mother, or if the Mother attempts to remove the heirs from the Matthew Estate without written consent, full physical and legal custody of the children shall revert immediately and exclusively to the Father."
Eunice looked up, her hands shaking so hard the paper rattled.
"If I leave..." she choked out. "I lose them?"
Hart didn't flinch. He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those dark, unreadable eyes.
"You are carrying the heirs to a multi-billion dollar empire, Eunice. My enemies would use them as leverage. I cannot risk you running away with them. I cannot risk you hiding them in some cheap apartment where my security can't reach them."
"You're trapping me," Eunice whispered, tears filling her eyes. "This isn't a marriage. It's a hostage situation. You're saying that if I'm unhappy, if I want to leave you... I have to leave my babies behind."
"Then don't leave," Hart said simply.
He stood up and walked around the table. He stopped behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders. The heat of his palms seeped through her silk robe.
"Why would you want to leave?" he murmured into her hair. "I can give you everything. Safety. Wealth. The best doctors. The best schools. I destroyed Vanessa for you. I defied my grandmother for you. All I ask is that you stay here, where I can see you."
"But you don't love me," Eunice said, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Hart's grip on her shoulders tightened slightly. He didn't answer. He couldn't lie and say he loved her—he didn't know how to love. But he also couldn't admit that the thought of an empty penthouse terrified him more than losing his fortune.
"Love is a liability," Hart said coldly. "This contract is a guarantee."
He leaned down, his cheek brushing hers.
"Sign the papers, Eunice. For the twins. If you don't... well, my lawyers are very good at proving that a single mother with no income and a history of debt is unfit to raise the Matthew heirs."
It was a threat. A soft, gentle, terrifying threat.
Eunice looked at the pen. She looked at the clause that bound her to him forever.
She had no choice. If she fought him, he would take the babies the moment they were born. If she signed, she got to be their mother—but she would be Hart's prisoner in a gilded cage.
She picked up the pen.
I do this for you, my loves, she thought, placing a hand on her stomach.
She signed her name. Eunice Vance.
Hart let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. He picked up the contract immediately, checking the signature, then snapped the folder shut.
"Good girl," he whispered.
He kissed the top of her head—a gesture that felt more like a master praising a pet than a husband kissing a wife.
"The wedding is in three days. Just a small ceremony. Get dressed, Eunice. We have a ring to size."