Chapter 2

JADE

I had no idea how it happened, but I was sitting in the back of Roman's luxury car while it sped through the wet road. I shifted to the edge of the seat, afraid my wet clothes would stain the leather.

"Sit properly." His voice cut through the silence of the car like a command. I turned to him slightly, and he didn't even once glance at me, his eyes firm on the road.

Even from a seat away, his presence felt overwhelming, and I felt like a stranger beside him.

The questions were bubbling in my chest. I wanted to ask him: after only one meeting, why did you choose me?

As much as I hated to admit it, Naomi was far more polished in navigating high society's tedious rituals than I could ever be.

After my adoptive father passed away, my mother, Meredith, had fallen gravely ill. Our already struggling household had only gotten worse. I'd learned to fight for survival early—scraping together tuition for myself and my brother. I'd spent years learning the habits that kept me alive, only to find out they were exactly what the upper class looked down on.

I could never be a suitable wife for Roman Volkov. That's impossible.

"Don't get sick; you are no use to me in a hospital bed."

I turned to him slightly; I knew those words weren't out of concern. I was here as a prisoner, having just escaped one. I closed my eyes and cursed my miserable fate. But I also knew I didn't have a choice.

Compared to the disasters Victoria had lined up for me—the men who would have destroyed me piece by piece—Roman was the better option by far.

The house was finally in view; it was nothing short of a palace, a true abode for someone of the Volkov status. Maids roamed the floor as we approached, and once they saw our car, they all stood at attention.

The moment the car stopped, a butler appeared with an umbrella and opened my door. No one questioned who I was. No one stared. As soon as we stepped inside, Roman handed me over to one of the maids and left us alone without a word.

"I am Ana," she said with a slight head bow.

"You can call me Jade." I tried to copy her actions, but she stopped me and shook her head. I gulped, confused as to what was going on.

"This way," she pointed towards the hallway that Roman had disappeared into. I walked behind her with my head down; my dress was dry now, but I was still so cold.

The halls were filled with expensive-looking things, artworks, statues and paintings, but it felt like there was no soul here. Everything just felt like a decorative piece thrown together for the sake of it.

She stopped in front of a huge double door. I cowered back at the sight. I had always been in awe of the wealth of the Sterlings, but this felt so very different – like another world.

"This is your room," she announced as she pushed the door open. The room was perfectly done, almost as if he had already prepared for my arrival.

Clothes, shoes, bags, and high-end jewellery lined every corner of the closet, while the room had a soft feel. Very different from everything in the hall.

"You can get dried and changed; the master would see you in his study. " Ana took a step back and assessed me. "Left hallway, two doors by your right."

I was left alone in the room that felt more like a cell than a home. It had been a long time since anywhere felt like home.

Roman was behind a huge table with a floor-length window behind him. Thick grey curtains hung from the ceiling and swept the ground. He puffed out a cloud of smoke, and I held my breath to stop myself from inhaling it.

"Come in," he said when I lingered by the door.

I had pulled my hair into a punishingly tight bun and was now in the least flashy thing I could get from the closet. I walked to him, trying not to look at him.

He was undeniably handsome—the kind of beauty that felt dangerous. His jaw looked sculpted from marble, his nose perfectly straight, his presence absolute.

"We are getting married," he announced, as if I had not heard this before.

"Why?"

The question came out before I could stop it. I understood the mechanics of a business arrangement well enough, but I was done being a puppet for the Sterlings. Roman was the variable they hadn't planned for—and I intended to use that.

He stared at me, jaw ticking. A man in his position wasn't accustomed to being challenged. But I needed him to see that I wasn't a pawn to be pushed around. If he couldn't accept that, then there was nothing left to discuss.

Just when I thought he might have me thrown out, he shifted and put out the cigarette, tossing the butt into the ashtray.

"I need a wife, and you happen to be the best candidate." His eyes ran over my body. "Do I need to explain myself to you?"

He took a folder off the table and stood up, walking over to me. For the first time, I noticed how much taller than me he was. He was towering over me as he handed it over to me.

"Our marriage contract," he said and began to list all of the terms. "There are rumours about me, the kind my family finds... inconvenient. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against those people; I just... don't like being labelled as something I am not."

Inconvenient rumors?

Naomi's words came rushing back—the little tidbits she'd let slip while obsessing over her blind date preparations.

"There's no way Roman is gay. Those rumors are just jealousy—people can't stand how handsome and successful he is. Once I'm his wife, I'll get pregnant right away, and the gossip will die overnight."

I'd rolled my eyes at her fantasy back then. But the way Roman was presenting this now... it made me wonder if there was truth to the rumors after all. Why else would a man like him be so eager to secure a contract wife to cover up a scandal?

I had to bite back a laugh at the way he corrected me—so utterly serious, as if the very suggestion offended him. I took a small step back. He was too tall, too close. His presence filled my lungs and made it impossible to think clearly.

"Let me read the terms carefully," I said, reaching for the folder.

I scanned through the document quickly. To his credit, Roman Volkov was generous—billionaire generous. He offered me nearly everything a Mrs. Volkov was entitled to in terms of wealth and status, while asking for surprisingly little in return: absolute loyalty, public displays of affection when required, and... wifely duties when necessary.

My eyes snagged on that last clause.

"I have a question," I said, raising my hand like a student in a classroom.

"I told you—I'm a man with normal needs," he replied, his tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather. "And I'll need an heir."

Heat crept up my neck and bloomed across my ears. I wanted to argue, but the words lodged in my throat.

"I don't keep mistresses," he continued, unmoved by my discomfort. "So if I want an heir, it will have to come from my wife. And having an heir, naturally, requires—"

I lunged forward and clamped my hand over his mouth before he could finish.

My face was on fire. How could he discuss something so intimate with a woman he'd met only twice, as calmly as if he were reading a grocery list?

His eyes locked onto mine. I felt his breath against my palm, warm and steady. Suddenly, my hand felt hotter than my face. I snatched it back.

"I'm sorry," I stammered. "I just don't think we need to be so... detailed."

One eyebrow rose. He didn't look amused, but he didn't look displeased either.

"I... I can accept that clause," I managed. "Just... could we wait a few years on the heir? I'm not—"

"That's fine." He cut me off with a nod. "Pregnancy is hardest on the mother. I'm willing to respect your wishes on this." A pause. "But don't make me wait too long."

His gaze wasn't heated—not even close—yet I felt my thighs press together involuntarily. Damn it. Why was I reacting this way to a man I'd only met twice?

Even if he was about to become my husband.

I fanned my burning cheeks with my hand and forced myself to keep reading.

Then I reached the final clause: Neither party shall develop romantic feelings for the other. Should this occur, the contract will be terminated.

Relief should have washed over me. Instead, something sank in my chest.

"I don't need love," Roman said, as if reading my expression. "In this marriage, I'll give you everything except that. Wealth. Respect. Status."

"You don't need to explain." I cut him off, afraid that if I hesitated even for a second, I'd lose my nerve. "I'm perfectly fine with this clause."

I forced myself to meet his cold, unreadable eyes.

"I'll be a good wife to you. Loyal. I won't cause you trouble. I'll give you children." I drew a steadying breath. "But I won't love you either. This arrangement is mutually beneficial. All I need from you is—"

"To inject capital into Sterling Group?" He finished my sentence with a knowing nod. "Done. I'm a man of my word."

"No."

The word came out sharper than I intended.

I shook my head. Entering a loveless marriage didn't mean I had to repay those leeches at the Sterling family. From the very beginning, my goal had never been about them.

"My adoptive mother is in the hospital." I held his gaze, even though my heart was trembling. On this point, I would not back down. "I need you to ensure she receives the best care possible."

Roman studied me for a long moment. The silence stretched between us, thick and expectant. Then a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He nodded.

"Deal." He extended his hand. "Welcome to the family, Mrs. Volkov."

I placed my hand in his. "Deal, Mr. Volkov."

And just like that, I was set to marry the coldest, most untouchable billionaire in the city.