Theo’s lawyer arrived the next day.
Not in a dramatic suit-and-briefcase way—she looked like someone who could dismantle you with a smile and a carefully worded email. Her name was Priya Nair, and she spoke with crisp clarity that made Mira sit up straighter.
They sat at Theo’s dining table. Theo remained standing by the window, arms folded, watching the city like it had offended him.
Priya slid a folder toward Mira. “We’re filing for a restraining order if his conduct meets the threshold. We’re also preparing a cease-and-desist for defamation and harassment.”
Mira’s mouth went dry. “Will that make him stop?”
Priya’s expression stayed neutral. “It might make him smarter. But it puts him on notice. And it creates a paper trail.”
Mira swallowed. “Okay.”
Priya glanced toward Theo. “Also, we should revisit the agreement.”
Mira blinked. “The contract?”
Theo’s gaze sharpened. “Why?”
Priya’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Because Mira’s exposure has increased. There are risks we didn’t fully anticipate—workplace interference, targeted harassment, social narrative attacks. We need to ensure Mira has additional protections.”
Mira’s throat tightened unexpectedly.
Theo moved back to the table, jaw set. “Add whatever she needs.”
Priya nodded, then looked at Mira. “There are a few clauses I’d recommend. A stipulation that Mr. Reyes covers legal counsel for any incident tied to the arrangement. A clause limiting public appearances if Mira requests it. A formal protocol for harassment.”
Mira stared down at the pages, heart heavy.
Theo’s hand settled on her shoulder, warm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
Mira looked up at him. “But if I ask for fewer appearances, won’t your mother suspect?”
Theo’s mouth tightened. “Let her.”
Mira’s voice was soft. “You’re saying that now. But she’s your family.”
Theo’s gaze held hers. “That doesn’t mean she gets to hurt you.”
Priya cleared her throat gently. “One more item.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Go on.”
Priya’s gaze flicked between them. “Given the public nature of this relationship, intimacy—whether it’s real or performative—will be speculated on. It may be useful to clarify boundaries and expectations.”
Mira’s cheeks warmed. “We already have that clause.”
Priya nodded. “Yes. But I recommend adding a privacy clause: no recordings, no photos, no third-party access. Also, if either of you wants to end the arrangement early, a structured exit plan to avoid a narrative vacuum.”
Theo’s jaw flexed.
Mira’s chest tightened. “Exit plan.”
Theo’s voice was quiet. “We’ll add it.”
Mira swallowed, feeling the weight of that word settle between them like a shadow.
Priya made notes, then stood. “I’ll send updated drafts this evening.”
After she left, the penthouse went quiet again.
Mira stared at the contract pages, fingers tracing the neat, clinical text.
Theo approached slowly and sat beside her.
He didn’t touch her immediately.
That made Mira look up.
Theo’s voice was low. “Are you regretting this?”
Mira shook her head. “No. I’m… scared.”
Theo nodded once, like fear was a fact to be respected. “Me too.”
Mira blinked. “You?”
Theo’s mouth tightened. “I don’t like that you can be harmed because of me.”
Mira’s throat tightened. “I was harmed before you.”
Theo’s gaze held hers. “Yes. But now he has a new angle.”
Mira exhaled shakily. “I hate that I can’t just… date you quietly.”
Theo’s eyes softened, and something in his face shifted—less weapon, more man. “Quiet isn’t something my world allows.”
Mira’s voice was small. “Then why ask me?”
Theo’s answer was immediate and honest. “Because you looked at him last night and didn’t collapse. Because you chose to stand next to me when you could have run.”
Mira swallowed. “I was drunk.”
Theo’s mouth curved faintly. “You were brave.”
Mira’s eyes stung. She blinked hard, then scoffed to cover it. “Stop saying things like that.”
Theo leaned closer, voice dropping. “Why? Because it makes you feel?”
Mira’s breath caught. “Because it makes it harder to pretend.”
Theo’s gaze sharpened with quiet intensity. “Then don’t pretend with me.”
Mira stared at him, heart pounding.
Theo’s hand lifted, slow, and rested on her knee—light pressure, asking rather than taking.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
Mira’s throat worked. Her voice came out rough. “I want… to stop thinking.”
Theo’s thumb moved in a slow stroke. “Then let me help.”
Mira’s breath caught as Theo leaned in and kissed her.
This kiss wasn’t frantic. It was deliberate, coaxing, like he was pulling her down into her body one careful touch at a time.
Mira’s hands slid into his hair. Theo’s mouth deepened, and Mira felt herself soften, the tight coil of fear loosening under his steady pace.
Theo’s mouth moved to her jaw, then her neck, and Mira tipped her head back, eyes closing.
Theo’s hand slid to her waist, then her back, guiding her closer until she was against him, anchored.
“You’re here,” he murmured. “With me.”
Mira’s fingers fisted in his shirt. “Yes.”
Theo kissed her again, slower, then pulled back just enough to look at her.
His eyes were dark, intent. “We can keep practicing,” he said. “We can make the performance flawless.”
Mira’s breath hitched. “And if it stops being a performance?”
Theo’s jaw tightened slightly. “Then it becomes dangerous.”
Mira stared. “Dangerous because you’ll get hurt?”
Theo’s gaze held hers. “Dangerous because you will.”
Mira’s chest ached. “Theo…”
Theo’s hand cupped her cheek. “I don’t want you paying for my family’s expectations.”
Mira swallowed. “And I don’t want you paying for my ex.”
Theo’s mouth curved faintly, humorless. “Too late.”
Mira leaned in and kissed him again, because the words were too big and her mouth knew how to speak right now better than her fear did.
Afterward, Mira lay against him, head on his shoulder.
Theo’s fingers drew slow lines along her arm.
Mira whispered, “What if Ethan sends something worse?”
Theo’s answer was quiet and absolute. “Then we end him.”
Mira’s eyes opened. “Theo—”
Theo kissed her forehead. “Not physically.”
Mira let out a shaky breath.
Theo’s voice stayed steady. “But I will not let him destroy you.”
Mira closed her eyes again, letting herself believe in that steadiness even as the contract pages lay on the table like a countdown.
***