The Quiet Clause

He lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head lightly, a dangerous energy simmering beneath his calm facade. "You're infuriating."

"And you haven't even seen the half of it," I murmur, smirking lightly, letting the fire linger.

For a heartbeat, he just stands there, the energy between us almost tangible, like a live wire sparking in the air. And then-he steps closer. Not enough to touch me, not yet, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint trace of cologne I recognize too well.

I don't flinch. I let him come. I meet his gaze evenly, smirk fading into something sharper, colder. "Careful," I murmur. "You're dangerously close to losing your control."

He tilts his head, lips just a fraction from curling in that half-smile, half-snarl he reserves for me alone. "Maybe I like losing control... with you," he mutters under his breath, almost too quiet to hear-but I do. I always do.

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He didn't want to marry a spoiled materialistic rich model that cares about no one but herself,
But what happens when it's inevitable.
and not just that
But what happens when he realizes that maybe, just maybe, there might be something more to than meets the eye.

Jason Dalton doesn't want a wife - he wants stability, control, and an image the world can't question.

Katherine Prescott didn't agree to the marriage.
She signed it.

No vows written in love. No promises made in good faith.
Just clauses, expectations, and a year meant to survive.

What neither of them planned for is what happens when silence becomes a language... and restraint starts to crack.

This isn't a love story.

You'll just have to read to find out what it is.

*Updates weekly. Mature themes.