Chapter 4 - The Marriage of Convenience
Ryan stared at the check on the counter, then at Clare’s furious, determined face.
"Marry you?" he asked, wondering if the sheer exhaustion of working two jobs had finally driven him insane. "Are you out of your mind?"
"It is the only logical solution that protects both of us," Clare said, her tone suddenly shifting into the cool, calculated rhythm of a corporate strategist mapping out a merger. "Think about it, Ryan. If the media finds out an unmarried CEO had a fling with a staff member, it’s a scandal that destroys my credibility and drags your family through the dirt. But if I announce that I am engaged to a private contractor—a hardworking single father, a former military apprentice, a man building a honest life—it isn't a scandal."
"It's a fairy tale," Ryan realized bitterly.
"It's a human interest story," Clare corrected smoothly. "The press loves a redemption narrative. A billionaire CEO settling down with a working-class widower. It grounds my public image. It protects my board position. It gives our child a legitimate, two-parent structure on paper. And it gives your daughter and mother absolute financial security."
Ryan looked down at the hundred-thousand-dollar check. It was the answer to his prayers, handed to him on a silver platter by the woman carrying his child. But the price was staggering.
"What are the terms?" Ryan asked quietly.
Clare pulled off her gloves and sat down at his small kitchen table. "A legal marriage contract with a strict prenuptial agreement. You receive a monthly allowance to manage household operations and support your family. You and Sophie move into my penthouse in Gold Coast. We present a united front to the public, the board, and the media until six months after the baby is born."
"And after six months?"
"After six months, we quietly file for an irreconcilable differences divorce," Clare explained, her voice steady, though her fingers fidgeted with her ring. "We agree to joint legal custody. I settle a five-million-dollar trust on Sophie, and you receive a quiet property settlement that ensures you never have to work a night shift again."
It was a business proposal disguised as a marriage proposal. Clean, efficient, and entirely devoid of emotion.
"What about Sophie?" Ryan asked. "She’s eight years old, Clare. She lost her mother four years ago. I am not going to drag her into a fake marriage just to discard it six months later like an expired contract."
Clare looked down at her lap, her expression softening for the first time since she had walked into the apartment. "I don't have family, Ryan. My father treated me like an investment property, and my mother left when I was six. I don't know how to be a mother. But I promise you... I will never hurt your daughter. We will tell her that we are working together to take care of the new baby."
Ryan looked around his cramped living room. He thought of his mother's failing heart, of Sophie sleeping in a bedroom where the radiator screamed all night, of his own body breaking down after four years of night shifts.
Then he looked at Clare—a woman worth $1.4 billion, standing in his worn kitchen, completely terrified of facing the world alone.
"Two conditions," Ryan said firmly.
Clare looked up. "Name them."
"First, my mother gets her surgery this week at the best cardiac center in the city, with a private room for her recovery," Ryan stated. "Second, we don't lie to Sophie about our relationship. We tell her we are partners helping each other, not a fairytale couple in love."
Clare stood up and held out her hand. "Agreed."
Ryan took her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
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Three days later, Ryan Carter resigned from his job as a night janitor at Ashford Sterling Group.
On Friday afternoon, in a private judge's chambers on the top floor of the Cook County Courthouse, billionaire Clare Ashford married Ryan Carter in a ten-minute ceremony attended only by a court clerk, a legal witness, and an eight-year-old girl holding a white rose.
