Page 17 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

He leans over to see what I’m looking at. “What do you mean?”

“This has a few extra zeros. The agreed-upon amount was supposed to be $50,000.”

Ronald gives me another tight grin and crosses his arms. “That isn’t a mistake.”

“But”—I read the number again, then back up at him—“this says a guaranteed $5 million.”

He nods. “$50,000 of that will be sent to you immediately. We can have a bank transfer done in a matter of hours.”

We?

“The remainder will be paid on the schedule provided on the next page.”

I flip to the next page.

Half a million dollars a year for the next ten years as long as we remain married and living together. After that, one million a year for each year wed.

I try to process the words in my head. “I don’t…” I blink and survey the small cabin. “Where are you getting all this money?”

Shit, that made me sound like some gold-digging bitch.

“I mean, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

He smirks. “Lyla, if you go through with this, you’ll never have to worry about money again. I can promise you that. But I need you to read through all the provisions.”

I gulp and keep reading, but the other changes are minor. Wording choices mostly. Which means the only thing holding me back from doing this is theindefiniteclause.

Which might not really mean forever.

He said if both parties agree.

Surely, if we don’t get along or something negative happens between us, he would be agreeable to part ways amicably and end the contract.

Right?

It doesn’t have to be forever…

Does it?

My throat suddenly goes dry.

Damn, I wish I had that water he offered.

Almost as if he can read my mind, he rises from his chair, steps into the kitchen, pulls a bottle of water from a small fridge, and brings it over to me. “You might need this.”

Oh, God. What’s coming up in here?

I flip a few more pages and get to his next addition.

Bride will be bound by a confidentiality agreement, preventing her from discussing any of these terms with anyone atanytime.

“So…I can’t tellanyonewhat I’m doing or discuss it with anyone, even ten years from now?”

Ronald shakes his head. “Unfortunately, it would be a requirement in this case. To anyone asking outside of these four walls, you fell in love the old-fashioned way and are forever happily married.”

I stare at the man I’m going to have to marry, who I’m going to have to have sex with, if I want this money. If there were any other way, I would walk out of here, get into that car, and drive back down the mountain.

But at this point, there isn’t.

---