Adrian's POV
Adrian doesn't sleep.
He sits in Patricia's office with two other lawyers while they draft the contract. Twenty pages that basically turns Mia Chen into a wife he can control. Separate bedrooms. Public appearances. Private distance. One year. Done.
Patricia keeps glancing at him like she wants to say something. She doesn't. She's Henry's lawyer. She's seen worse.
By four AM, the contract is finished. Fifty pages now with legal language that makes it sound important and final. Adrian reads through it once and tells himself this is fine. This is business. This is him protecting what's his.
He calls Mia. She answers on the third ring sounding like she hasn't slept either.
"Nine AM. My lawyer's office. Bring your ID."
He hangs up before she can respond.
By eight forty-five, Adrian is sitting in Patricia's office reviewing everything one more time. Separate residences. Non-disclosure of money. Clean divorce after exactly three hundred sixty-five days. Payment transferred upon finalization. Every angle covered. Every detail controlled.
Mia arrives at exactly nine AM.
She's wearing that same black Target dress. Hair pulled back. No makeup except foundation trying to hide she's been crying. Her eyes are swollen and red and terrified.
Adrian doesn't let himself feel guilty about that.
"This is the contract," Patricia explains, pointing to sections. "Separate rooms in the mansion. Public appearances as a couple. Non-disclosure agreement. Clean divorce after one year. Payment upon finalization."
Mia doesn't read it. She just flips pages like she's looking for the signature line.
"Don't you want to understand what you're signing?" Adrian asks.
She looks up. Those red eyes meet his and something in his chest twists. "Would it change anything?"
"Maybe."
"No," Mia says quietly. "It wouldn't. I need the money more than I need to understand the fine print. So let's just finish this."
Adrian watches her sign. Her hand shakes on every page. By the end she can barely write her own name.
He signs too. His signature is strong. Controlled. The signature of someone who knows exactly what he's doing.
Patricia witnesses both signatures. Notarizes everything. Makes it official. Makes it binding.
When it's done, the room goes silent.
"There's one more thing," Patricia says. She pulls an envelope from her desk drawer. It's sealed. Official looking. "Mr. Westwood left a letter with very specific instructions about when it should be opened."
Adrian tenses immediately. "What kind of letter?"
"He didn't specify the contents. Only the timing." Patricia looks at the envelope like it might explode. "He wanted this opened after you both signed the marriage contract. But there's a condition."
"What condition?" Mia asks. Her voice is small.
"You both must open it together. At the mansion. After you've moved in as husband and wife. He was very specific about this."
Adrian leans back in his chair. Of course his father left conditions. Of course he's still controlling things from beyond the grave. "What if we don't want to open it?"
"Then you don't have to. But Mr. Westwood made it clear that understanding certain things about this arrangement depends on reading it." Patricia sets the envelope on the desk between them. "He said both of you deserved to know the full truth. Just not yet."
Mia stares at the envelope. "What's the truth?"
"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me." Patricia's expression is careful. Measured. "But he seemed very certain that you both needed to understand something. Something important about why he arranged this marriage specifically."
Adrian's jaw clenches. "My father loved secrets."
"Your father loved you," Patricia corrects gently. "In his own complicated way."
Adrian doesn't believe that. But he doesn't argue. Instead he looks at Mia. She's staring at that sealed envelope like it holds all the answers. Or all the problems. Maybe both.
"When do we move to the mansion?" Mia asks.
"Today if possible," Adrian says. "The wedding is this weekend. We need to look comfortable with each other by then."
Mia nods. She doesn't ask if they'll be comfortable. She seems to know they won't be.
Patricia puts the sealed envelope in a folder and hands it to Adrian. "This stays with you. Open it when you're ready. But please open it soon. Mr. Westwood seemed to think timing mattered."
Adrian takes the folder. The envelope feels heavier than it should.
They stand to leave. Mia is already moving toward the door when Patricia speaks again.
"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a gold digger," Patricia says quietly to Mia. "I've been Henry's lawyer for twenty years. I know when someone's being manipulated and when someone's being genuine. You were genuine with him."
Mia's eyes fill with tears. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Just understand that your marriage comes with more context than Adrian currently knows. Be patient with each other."
Adrian wants to ask what that means. But something in Patricia's expression tells him she's already said too much.
They walk out of the law office into Los Angeles sunshine. The city looks the same as it always does. Cars honking. People walking fast. Nobody knowing that Adrian's life just got significantly more complicated.
"I need to go back to my apartment," Mia says. "Pack my things."
"My driver will take you. Be ready by six PM. My staff will meet you at the mansion to show you where everything is."
"Okay."
Adrian starts to walk away. Then he stops. He turns back to look at her. "The contract is binding. Once we're at that mansion, you're committed. There's no walking away. No changing your mind. Do you understand?"
Mia meets his eyes. And for just a second, he sees something fierce underneath all that fear. "I understand exactly what I'm doing."
"Good."
But as Adrian watches her get into his car, the sealed envelope heavy in his hands, he wonders if either of them really understands anything at all.
By six PM, Mia is standing in the foyer of the Westwood mansion with a single suitcase and a backpack. It's all she owns. Everything she cares about fits in luggage that costs less than one of Adrian's suits.
Adrian watches from the top of the stairs as his staff leads her around. They're showing her the separate wing. The room that will be hers. The distance between their worlds measured in hallways and locked doors.
"Mr. Westwood," Patricia calls. She's standing in the main study. "Your father's instructions mentioned you should open the letter before the wedding. Tomorrow would be appropriate. You'll both need time to process before you stand in front of cameras."
Adrian looks at the sealed envelope in his hands. His father's handwriting stares back at him.
"What if I don't like what it says?" Adrian asks.
"Then you deal with it," Patricia says simply. "That's what growing up means."
She leaves him alone in the study. Adrian sits at his father's desk. The desk Adrian inherited. The empire Adrian built.
And he opens the envelope.
The letter is long. Pages and pages of his father's handwriting. Adrian starts reading.
By the time he finishes the first page, his hands are shaking.
By the time he finishes the second page, he doesn't know what to think.
His phone buzzes. A text from Patricia: "Don't confront her about it tonight. Let her rest. You'll both need clarity tomorrow."
Adrian reads the letter one more time.
Then he walks to his bedroom and sits in the dark.
Because his father, even in death, just gave him information that changes everything about this marriage.
And Adrian has no idea how to tell Mia what he just learned.
He has no idea if she even knows.
And most importantly, he has no idea if anything she said to him was ever actually true.