The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 41: The Contract

Chapter 41: The Contract

Vernon tapped his foot restlessly against the polished marble floor of the second-floor hallway in his mansion. The rhythmic sound echoed faintly, a sharp contrast to the low murmur of his friend and business partner, Felix Song, who was rambling on without pausing for breath on the other end of the call.

Vernon’s eyes kept drifting toward the wide, imposing door of his study, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of caution and something else—unease, perhaps.

When Felix finally paused, Vernon let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his stinging eyes behind the glass lenses, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight.

"What did he say?.. No... leave it in her name. I made sure no one could touch it before I did. Just the details—I don’t want to drag this out. Those vultures are already circling, waiting for scraps." He paused, his jaw tightening. "Everything will be set in motion once she signs it. Yeah... thanks, man."

With another heavy exhale, he ended the call and slipped the phone into the inner pocket of his tailored jacket.

Despite being back home, he couldn’t bring himself to change into something more comfortable.

These clothes—rigid, tailored, precise—felt like armor now, a necessary barrier between him and the emotions clawing at the edges of his mind. Around Jane, they were more than that. They were a wall, one she wouldn’t dare to breach.

Pushing open the study door, he stepped inside, his eyes immediately falling on Jane. Her shoulders tensed, a subtle shudder betraying her surprise—and perhaps discomfort—at his return. The involuntary reaction pulled a faint, wry grin to Vernon’s face, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Without missing a beat, he crossed the spacious room with measured, confident strides and sank into the leather-clad swivel chair behind his massive oak desk.

Leaning back slightly, he locked his dark, unreadable gaze onto Jane’s, his expression a mask of calm control.

Slowly, deliberately, he opened the first drawer of the desk, pulling out a thin stack of crisp papers. His fingers brushed over the edges before he slid them across the polished surface toward her, the faint whisper of paper against wood filling the heavy silence.

Jane’s eyes dropped to the first page, her breath hitching almost imperceptibly as she read the bold title in her mind: Marriage Contract.

"It’s a standard marriage contract. Review it and sign on the last page, right next to mine," Vernon said in a flat tone.

Jane’s eyes remained glued to the first page, her fingers stiff and unmoving as if the weight of the paper had somehow anchored her in place.

"D-Do I get t-to... review it with m-my lawyer?" she stammered.

Vernon’s smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth lifting with smug satisfaction, his expression dripping with arrogance. "Do you even have a lawyer?" he drawled, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Or the money to hire one?"

The words hit her with precision, sharp and deliberate—a direct strike aimed at her pride. And it landed flawlessly.

Yeah... What was I thinking? The bitter thought echoed in her mind, leaving a faint sting of humiliation in its wake.

Jane drew in a shallow, almost imperceptible breath, forcing her trembling fingers to turn the page. She began to skim through the contents, her gaze flickering over the neatly typed clauses and sterile legal jargon.

It looks simple... just like all the other marriage contracts I’ve seen before, she thought, her heartbeat pounding like a distant drum in her chest.

Jane wasn’t unfamiliar with documents like this.

When her father first broached the subject of her marrying Charles, the marriage contract had been the very first thing he’d mentioned—as if legal terms held more weight than her own feelings.

It was business, nothing more. In their world, people didn’t marry for love; they married for convenience, power, and leverage. Contracts were the glue that held those hollow arrangements together.

She even remembered the day she’d quietly approached the family lawyer, feigning casual curiosity, just to catch a glimpse of a typical marriage contract. She’d wanted to understand what her future would look like—what boxes she’d be confined within once she inevitably became Mrs. Charles Chastain.

Thinking about Charles made Jane’s heart twist painfully, a sharp ache that she couldn’t shake off. Had he ever truly considered the idea of them getting married? Had he ever wondered what it would be like to see their names written together on the final page of a contract, one beside the other?

Had he ever felt that inexplicable flutter at the bottom of his stomach, that unspoken thrill, as he imagined spending his life bound to hers?

The thought left her feeling cold and distant, almost as if the warmth of those once-cherished dreams had all but faded away.

As her gaze fell on the document before her, she couldn’t help but notice how different she felt now. There was no excitement, no sense of anticipation, nothing like the hope she’d once thought she’d feel when marriage was brought up. All that remained was a deep, gnawing anxiety and a rising sense of dread.

She turned the page slowly, each motion heavier than the last, until she reached the final page of the contract. Her body winced involuntarily as her eyes caught the bold, glaring letters, as though they had been burned into the page itself, too sharp to ignore.

Party A (Vernon Lin) is the only party that can end the contract at any time. Divorce is not possible until then.

She had expected a clause like this, yet somehow seeing it in writing still sent a pang of discomfort through her.

To live with such uncertainty, to know absolutely nothing about her future, to wait for the day when her "husband" would simply discard her—was that really the life she was about to walk into? A life where her worth was dictated by someone else’s whims, a life that could be snuffed out in an instant when he grew tired of her?

The silence in the room grew thick as Jane lingered over the contract. As if tired of the stillness, Vernon’s fingers drummed impatiently on the surface of the desk, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Nothing too fancy, as you can see. But there is one very important condition that I haven’t put in writing, yet it must be complied with—when I demand it."

The tension in the room seemed to tighten further, leaving Jane with a strange sense of foreboding as she met his dark eyes.

"What... what is it?" Jane asked nervously, the muscles in her shoulders tightening as an uncomfortable sense of unease crept over her.

Vernon’s gaze was unwavering, his voice cold and firm as he spoke.

"To the outside world, this marriage will be real. The charade I’ve set up for us will be convincing. I’m not asking you to pretend that you’re madly in love with me—no one would ever buy that. But I do expect you to act as if this marriage is something you wanted, too. In this... relationship... both of us will be committed partners. The moment even a single person suspects that this isn’t real, the deal is over, and you’re on your own."

A sharp lump formed in Jane’s throat, and her mouth went dry, begging for water that wasn’t there. Her heart raced.

She knew it would never look real. No one would believe that they were truly in love. Not even Felicity, with all her acting skills, could pull that off.

But when Vernon made it clear that he would end the contract if their deception was exposed, Jane felt an unfamiliar twist of fear inside her.

She told herself she shouldn’t care. After all, what did she even think of him? But as those thoughts ran through her mind, her body refused to move, her lips paralyzed by an overwhelming mix of anxiety and something deeper, more complex.

"So?" Vernon’s voice sliced through the silence again, dragging her back to reality. He noticed her hesitation, his intense eyes narrowing as he studied her. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Jane finally forced the words out, her voice trembling slightly. She shook her head and lifted her clear blue eyes to meet his. "Give me the pen. I will do it. I’ll sign it. I will do... everything."