Signed and Sealed

The VIP lounge door clicked shut, and the applause outside died.

I slid the marriage license into the inside pocket of my suit and pressed the edge of the paper with my thumb.

The ink was dry.

The deal was real.

She finally snapped out of it.

Elena turned and grabbed my sleeve.

Her fingers were shaking, like she was holding on to the last thread keeping her upright. “Listen to me… I’m not—”

I watched her. Didn’t rush her.

“I’m not the bride you were supposed to marry.” She dragged in a breath like it hurt. “The one standing next to you today… that was supposed to be Chloe. She set it up. She made me walk through the ceremony for her. I—I was just filling in—”

Panic flooded her eyes, and her voice splintered. “You can still end this. All you have to do is say the word. Your lawyers can—can pull it back. We can pretend none of this happened.”

I stepped closer.

She backed up on instinct until her spine hit the wall.

Whatever safety the grand wedding had given her shattered in an instant.

“Done?” I asked.

She froze. She’d been waiting for rage—accusations, humiliation, some kind of explosion. She didn’t get one.

“You’re not angry?” Her voice climbed. “This is fraud. It’s—”

“What do you think I was doing when I signed?” I planted my hand beside her head and leaned in, eyes locked on hers. “Playing a guessing game?”

She swallowed hard, still forcing out excuses. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to get out of this intact. It was Chloe—she said you two were going to marry anyway. That it was just a temporary—”

“A stand-in?” I repeated softly, almost amused.

Her eyes went red with desperation. “I can go back. I’ll explain everything. I’ll—”

I took her chin and tipped it up, making her look at me.

“Don’t say go back again,” I said, quiet but absolute. “The second you wrote your name, you stopped being temporary.”

“That was a mis—”

I kissed her and swallowed the rest of the word.

She fought on reflex, hands lifting—pointless. I caught her wrist and pinned it to the wall. In my grip, her resistance was paper-thin, nothing but friction and breath.

I pulled back just enough to speak against her mouth. “Do you understand what a marriage license means in this country?”

Her voice trembled. “I do… but I’m not—”

“There’s no but.” I stared at her like she was a document already stamped and filed. “You want to end it? Fine. We do it through the courts. Media, shareholders, both families—everyone gets to watch me get married and dumped in the same breath. You really think I’ll allow that?”

The color drained from her face.

That was the moment she realized I wasn’t the unlucky bastard dragged into someone else’s mess.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

The screen lit up: Chloe.

I didn’t take the phone away. I just wrapped my hand around her waist and locked her into my body, so she couldn’t put even an inch of distance between us.

She answered, voice tight. “Hello?”

Chloe’s voice came through sharp and superior, like she was interrogating hired help. “Where are you? Don’t tell me you’re still near him.”

I looked down at Elena. Her eyes flicked to me, begging me to let her go.

I didn’t.

My hand slid over the wedding dress, slow, deliberate—an unspoken reminder of whose boundary she was standing on now.

Her breathing faltered. She clenched her jaw and forced her voice smooth. “I’m not. I’m leaving.”

Chloe laughed, cold and certain. “Don’t play innocent. I know exactly what you are, Elena. You walked down that aisle and suddenly you think you can upgrade your life? Listen carefully—you’re a temporary actress in my scene. Don’t cross the line.”

“I’m not crossing anything.” Elena’s words came out too fast.

I leaned into her ear, my voice for her alone. “Say you’re a good girl.”

Her whole body jolted. Then, like she swallowed a piece of her pride, she whispered, “I’m… being good.”

There was a half-second of silence on the line. Chloe didn’t catch it—didn’t want to. If anything, she sounded more pleased. “Good. Remember your place. One second next to Liam is stolen time for someone like you. Wedding’s over—get out. Don’t embarrass me.”

I almost laughed.

She thought she was staking her claim.

She had no idea the man she was talking about had her “low-rent stand-in” trapped against his chest, holding her still while she lied through her teeth.

My grip tightened. My fingers pressed at her waist with lazy precision. A sound nearly slipped from her throat. She bit it off so hard her eyes watered.

Chloe kept going. “Even if he signed, it doesn’t matter. That’s for the partnership. When I get back, I’ll handle it. Don’t get ideas. Understood?”

Elena’s gaze wavered—like the last shred of dignity in her hands was cracking. She forced it out. “Understood.”

I lowered my mouth to the side of her neck and kissed her once—light, almost gentle, and vicious for what it did to her control. Her knees softened. The phone nearly slipped. I steadied her wrist with my hand so she had to keep holding the lie.

Chloe’s tone shifted, suspicious. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you breathing like that?”

Elena sucked in air, swallowed the tremor, flattened her voice. “Nothing. I… I’m walking. I’m tired.”

“Useless.” Chloe spat it like an insult she enjoyed. “Leave now. Don’t let anyone photograph you clinging to him. And remember—Liam is the kind of man you don’t get to touch.”

I looked at Elena’s face.

Her cheeks burned. Shame and fear twisted together, raw and bright in her eyes.

I brushed my mouth to her ear again, a quiet command. “Tell her you’ll behave.”

Her lashes shook. She still said it, like handing over a key. “I’ll behave, Chloe.”

“That’s better.” Chloe hummed, satisfied. “Don’t forget what you owe me.”

The call ended.

The moment the dial tone vanished, the room dropped into silence—only her ragged breathing and my steady heartbeat.

She stared at the phone, knuckles white, like she’d just climbed away from a cliff and found there was no ground under her feet.

I took her chin and made her look at me.

“For her,” I said evenly, “you can endure that much. But you should understand something now—your lies only matter to one person.”

“Who?” Her voice was wrecked.

I held her gaze. “Me.”

Her pupils trembled.

The door opened. Hallway light spilled in. My security stood silent, only nodding.

Elena’s throat tightened. “Where are you taking me?”

I didn’t look back. I made it a sentence, not a question. “Home, Mrs.”

The title landed like a shackle.

Minutes later, the back seat of a Rolls-Royce.

The door shut. The world disappeared. Leather and cold cologne filled the sealed cabin, tight as a vault.

Elena sat rigid, hands twisted together. She wanted to speak—wanted an argument that would make me let go. She didn’t have one.

I watched the neon smear past the window.

The car rolled toward the penthouse. Fewer lights. Quieter streets.

Her exits were gone.

And I’d only just started unwrapping her.