Chapter 4 The Accidental Marriage Contract

Scarlett's POV

I picked up the pen Gabriel had placed beside my plate with deliberate precision. The weight of it felt substantial—probably cost more than most people's monthly rent.

"Go ahead," Gabriel said, settling back in his chair with the confidence of a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. "Name your terms."

The scratch of pen against paper was the only sound in the vast dining room as I began drafting the agreement. I could feel Gabriel's eyes on me as I worked, studying me like I was some fascinating specimen he'd never encountered before.

When I finally looked up to check a detail, I caught Gabriel staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. His dark eyes snapped away immediately, and I noticed the slightest flush of color across his sharp cheekbones.

Interesting.

I slid the completed documents across the polished table. "Two agreements," I said simply. "Compensation for damages, and divorce papers."

Gabriel picked up the first document, his expression growing more intrigued with each line. When he reached the section about "marital property division according to state law," one corner of his mouth actually curved upward.

"Marital property," he repeated, setting the paper down. "Clever."

"The marriage may have been involuntary," I said, meeting his gaze directly, "but it's legally valid. That means any income earned between the moment we signed those papers and the moment we sign the divorce papers constitutes marital property."

"And you want half."

"I want what's legally mine." I leaned back in my chair, keeping my voice level. "From what I understand, your daily income is quite... substantial."

Gabriel's smile widened. Most people would have been intimidated by now, throwing legal threats or having me escorted out by security. Instead, he seemed genuinely amused.

"You're asking for five hundred million dollars in damages," he said, consulting the first document again. "Plus reasonable compensation for saving my grandmother's life."

"Plus half of whatever you earned today." I kept my expression neutral. "Fair market rate for medical miracles is negotiable, but kidnapping and forced marriage carries a premium."

For a moment, I thought I'd overplayed my hand. Gabriel went completely still, his businessman's mask slipping back into place. Then he surprised me by signing the compensation agreement without hesitation.

"Done," he said, pushing the paper back to me. "But I have a counter-proposal regarding the divorce."

I raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Delay it. Just for a while." His voice lost its commanding edge, becoming almost... pleading. "My grandmother believes we're married. Seeing us together, seeing me settled, it might be what helps her recover fully. I'm asking you to play the part of my wife just long enough to ensure her health."

He gestured to the divorce papers I'd drafted. "In return, I'll honor the marital property clause. Everything I earn during our marriage—however long you're willing to extend it—gets split fifty-fifty when we divorce."

Across the room, Adam Hamilton made a choking sound. Apparently Gabriel's assistant had been lurking in the shadows, and the financial implications of this offer had just hit him. I didn't blame him for being shocked. Gabriel Rothschild's daily income could fund small countries.

"Generous," I admitted. "But I'm afraid that's impossible."

Gabriel's confident expression faltered. "Why?"

"I'm getting married tomorrow."

The words hit the room like a physical blow. Gabriel went completely still, and I watched something unreadable flicker across his features.

"Married," he repeated slowly.

"To my fiancé Jack. We're taking the afternoon train back to Maple Creek to get our marriage license. I need the divorce papers finalized by noon tomorrow, or I'll miss my train."

Gabriel stared at me for a long moment, and I could practically see him recalibrating his entire approach. Whatever he'd been expecting, it clearly wasn't this.

"Alright," he said finally, his voice carefully neutral. "You can rest at the Rothschild Manor today, and tomorrow morning I'll go with you to the courthouse to handle the paperwork."

"Thank you for your prompt agreement, Mr. Rothschild."

I nodded and headed for the door, but his voice stopped me.

"Scarlett?"

I turned back.

"Sweet dreams."

There was something in the way he said it that made my pulse skip, but I simply nodded and left him sitting alone at that enormous table.

---

Gabriel's POV

I waited until Scarlett's footsteps faded completely before allowing myself to truly process what had just happened. My accidental wife had just negotiated me out of half a billion dollars without breaking a sweat, then casually mentioned she was planning to marry someone else tomorrow.

And I'd let her.

"Sir?" Adam emerged from the shadows where he'd been discretely observing. "If I may say so, that was... generous of you."

"She saved Alice's life." I picked up my wine glass, swirling the dark liquid thoughtfully. "She could have asked for anything."

"Yes, but five hundred million—"

"Is nothing compared to my grandmother's life." I set down the glass without tasting it. "Besides, something tells me Scarlett Ross is worth every penny."

Adam looked uncertain. "About that, sir. There's something else I need to tell you. Something that couldn't wait until Ms. Ross left."

The gravity in his tone made me look up sharply. "What is it?"

"It's about Derek's missing son. The one we've been searching for."

I felt a cold certainty settle in my chest. "You found him."

"Yes, sir. He's been living under the name Jack Parker." Adam paused, clearly uncomfortable. "In Maple Creek, upstate New York."

The wine glass slipped from my fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor in a spray of crystal and dark red liquid.

Jack Parker. Scarlett's fiancé.

My brother's long-lost son.

"Does Scarlett know about this?" I asked softly.

"She probably doesn't. Derek just received the DNA report."

What are the odds that Derek's son would end up engaged to the woman who saved our grandmother's life?

In my experience, when coincidences were this convenient, they usually weren't coincidences at all.