Millionaire Marriage

The Terms of the Agreement

Chapter 3: The Terms of the Agreement

Catherine sat at the long mahogany dining table, the soft morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the estate's grand breakfast room. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the clink of her silver spoon as she stirred her tea. The mansion, while beautiful, felt impossibly empty. Even the light itself seemed cold.

She glanced at the empty seat across from her—the place where Nicholas was supposed to be. He had risen early, leaving her alone in bed with nothing but his carefully worded note from the night before. Polite, distant, and to the point. In a way, it was a perfect reflection of the man himself.

The butler approached, setting down a fresh basket of pastries with a nod. "Mr. Welles will be joining you shortly, ma'am."

Catherine thanked him softly, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't shake the strange sensation of being more of a guest in this house than a wife. This wasn't her home—at least, it didn't feel like one yet.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard Nicholas's footsteps approaching, his pace as measured as always. He entered the room in a crisp suit, already fully prepared for a day of meetings and business deals, his phone in hand as he wrapped up a conversation. When he finally set the phone down, his eyes met hers briefly before he took his seat across the table.

"Good morning, Catherine," he said, his tone neutral.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice a little softer than she intended.

Nicholas picked up his coffee and took a sip, his attention already shifting to the stack of papers beside him. Catherine noticed the top sheet bore the Welles family crest—business, no doubt. He was always in work mode, always thinking five steps ahead. It was one of the reasons he was so successful, but also the reason why the emotional distance between them felt so vast.

"You've adjusted well, I hope?" he asked, though the question sounded more like an obligation than genuine interest.

Catherine nodded, though internally she debated whether or not she should address the elephant in the room. The terms of their marriage—the unspoken, businesslike contract—hovered in the air between them. Everything about this arrangement was defined by boundaries, transactions, and convenience, but what exactly did that mean in practical terms? They hadn't discussed it in detail since their rushed engagement. It was as if they were both avoiding the inevitable conversation.

"Nicholas," she began, her voice more confident this time, "I think we need to talk about... expectations."

He looked up from his coffee, his dark eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, the mask slipped just slightly—she saw a flicker of something more beneath his polished exterior. But just as quickly, it was gone.

"Of course," he said, setting his cup down and leaning back in his chair. "I suppose it's time we clarified things."

Catherine straightened in her seat, feeling the weight of what was about to be said. She had married him knowing full well this wasn't a love match, but she needed to know where she stood. What did their marriage actually mean, beyond the contract?

"You've made it clear that this is... an arrangement," she said, choosing her words carefully. "But I need to know what that looks like for us—day to day."

Nicholas considered her for a moment, his gaze sharp, as if assessing whether she was truly ready for the answers. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, measured, as though he had rehearsed this conversation long ago.

"We agreed that our marriage would be mutually beneficial," he began. "Your family's debts are erased, and in exchange, I gain the public image of stability and partnership that my position demands."

Catherine nodded, though hearing it stated so plainly still made her stomach twist.

"I understand that," she said. "But what about us? What do you expect from me in terms of our... personal relationship?"

Nicholas's expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened slightly, the flicker of emotion she had seen earlier reappearing for just a second.

"Our marriage is a partnership," he said carefully. "I don't expect emotional involvement from you, and I won't demand it. We both knew what this was from the beginning."

Catherine's heart sank slightly. She had hoped, even just a little, that there might be room for something more—some possibility of connection. But Nicholas was making it clear that this was strictly a business deal to him.

"What about children?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

That seemed to catch Nicholas off guard, though he quickly recovered. "That's something we can discuss when the time comes. But I do expect that eventually, there will be an heir."

His words were delivered with such cold finality that Catherine felt a chill run down her spine. An heir. It was just another piece of the puzzle for him, another part of the arrangement.

She looked down at her hands, feeling suddenly small in the grandeur of the room. Was this really all her life would be now? A series of formal agreements and obligations?

"And what about you?" she asked quietly, almost dreading the answer. "Are there... others?"

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "No. Not now."

The way he said it—so direct and matter-of-fact—left no room for interpretation. He had made it clear that while he wasn't involved with anyone else at the moment, their relationship wasn't built on fidelity or emotional intimacy. It was just another transaction in his world of deals and alliances.

The silence between them grew heavier, the reality of their arrangement settling over Catherine like a weight she hadn't fully anticipated. She had known going into this marriage that it wasn't based on love, but she had hoped for more than this. Something, anything, that felt real.

Nicholas stood, gathering his papers and preparing to leave for another day of meetings. He paused for a moment, looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

"I'll be working late tonight," he said. "But if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask the staff."

Catherine nodded, feeling the familiar pang of isolation return as he left the room. She watched as his figure disappeared down the hall, the echo of his footsteps fading until she was left in complete silence.

As she sat alone at the table, the terms of their marriage clear in her mind, Catherine realized that she was living a life that, on the surface, looked perfect—wealth, luxury, and status. But beneath it all, she was more alone than ever.

And the most painful part? She wasn't sure if Nicholas even cared enough to notice.