The atmosphere inside the luxurious living room felt cold and quiet, even though the air conditioner was not set too low. Elara Wijaya sat at the edge of the cream‑colored leather sofa, her hands clasped tightly together to hide her nervousness. She wore simple clothes that she had washed many times, looking completely out of place among the expensive furnishings surrounding her.
Across the room, behind a large solid teak desk, sat a man with a stern expression and sharp, unwavering eyes. His name was Arga Pratama — the sole heir of the Pratama Group, one of the largest and most powerful companies in the country. To the public, he was known as a man of iron will, cold, and never letting emotions get in the way of his decisions.
“You know why you were called here?” Arga’s voice was low, firm, and completely devoid of warmth.
Elara swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “I was told that Mr. Arga needs someone to be his contract wife for two years.”
Yes, that was the only choice left for her. Her mother lay weak in the hospital, medical bills piling up higher and higher, and she had nowhere else to turn for help. She had run out of every possible option.
Arga leaned back in his large leather chair and folded his arms across his chest. “The terms are simple. You will be my wife legally, but only for business and family purposes. There will be no real feelings, no unnecessary questions, and no demands of any kind once the contract ends.”
He continued in the same steady tone. “In return, I will pay off all your debts, cover every single cost of your mother’s treatment until she recovers fully, and give you a monthly allowance more than enough to live comfortably.”
Elara’s heart raced. This arrangement sounded unfair at first glance, but for her, it was the only lifeline to save her mother.
“Just two years?” she asked, needing to make sure she had heard correctly.
“Exactly two years. After that, we will get a quiet divorce, and you will be free to live your life however you wish. No strings attached,” Arga replied without hesitation.
He pushed a printed agreement across the desk toward her, with a blank line waiting for her signature. “Think carefully. If you agree, sign it. If not, the door behind you is open, and you may leave.”
Elara looked at the paper, then pictured her mother’s pale face in the hospital bed. Without any more hesitation, she picked up the pen and signed her name, her hand trembling slightly.
“I agree,” she said softly but clearly.
Arga stared at her for a moment, as if trying to read what was going on inside her mind. Then he gave a short nod.
“Good. Starting tomorrow, you will move into this house. Remember one thing, Elara — never expect anything more than what is written on this paper. My heart is locked behind ice, and it will not melt easily.”
Elara only bowed her head, hiding the anxiety in her chest. She had no idea what awaited her during these two years, but she made a promise to herself: she would endure everything with her head held high, for the sake of the person she loved most.
Outside the large window, the sky began to turn soft shades of orange and purple as the sun set. And inside that grand room, a contract was signed — an agreement that would change the fate of both of them forever.