Chapter 2 Love Letters and Corporate Espionage

# Chapter 2: Love Letters and Corporate Espionage

The charity gala had been my introduction to society as Mrs. Gilbert Blackwood. I'd expected to be paraded around like a trophy wife, but instead, Gilbert had kept me close all evening, his hand resting possessively at the small of my back. He'd introduced me as his "brilliant wife" and actually seemed interested when I joined conversations about market trends and investment strategies.

It had been... confusing, to say the least.

Two weeks into our arrangement, I still hadn't found time to read Clause 100. Between settling into the penthouse and attending a whirlwind of corporate events, I'd barely had a moment to myself. Gilbert remained an enigma—cold and distant one moment, surprisingly attentive the next.

This morning, he'd left for an early meeting, giving me the perfect opportunity to explore. I told myself I was just getting familiar with my new home, but really, I was searching for clues about the man I'd married.

Gilbert's office was the one room he'd asked me not to enter without him, which naturally made it my first destination. The space was immaculate—glass desk, ergonomic chair, state-of-the-art computer, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with business texts and classics.

Nothing personal. Nothing revealing.

I was about to leave when I noticed a small safe in the corner, partially hidden behind a modernist sculpture. It was unlocked—perhaps Gilbert had forgotten to secure it in his rush this morning.

Inside was a stack of envelopes tied with a simple black ribbon. I hesitated for only a second before curiosity won out. I carefully removed the bundle and untied the ribbon.

The envelopes were numbered, from one to twenty. Each contained a handwritten letter on Blackwood Industries stationery. I opened the first one and began to read.

"Day One as your contract husband. You wore blue today. It matches your eyes when you're angry, which seems to be your default state around me. I find I don't mind it. Most people are afraid to show anger in my presence. You called me an 'emotionally stunted corporate robot' under your breath when you thought I couldn't hear. I almost smiled. Almost."

I blinked in surprise and quickly opened another.

"Day Five. You rearranged the kitchen today. My housekeeper nearly had a heart attack, but I told her to leave it. The coffee tastes better when I make it the way you organized things. I won't tell you that."

And another:

"Day Eight. Today I love you because you curse like a sailor when you think no one can hear. You were on the phone with your sister, pacing on the balcony, gesturing wildly with your hands. You called me a 'pretentious ass' and then, thirty minutes later, straightened my tie before we left for the Henderson meeting. The contradiction is... intriguing."

Each letter was signed the same way: "Your Contract Husband."

My hands trembled as I read through more of them. Some were short observations, others longer reflections. All of them revealed a Gilbert Blackwood I'd never met—one who noticed everything about me, who seemed to find my defiance amusing rather than annoying, who was... feeling things he never expressed.

"Day Fifteen. You fell asleep on the couch while reading financial reports. I carried you to bed. You nestled against my chest and mumbled something about 'not really hating me.' I've rerun those words in my head seventeen times today."

The letters were simultaneously childish and profound. This hidden Gilbert noticed when I changed my shampoo, remembered how I took my coffee, and apparently spent considerable time thinking about me when I wasn't around.

I was so absorbed in the letters that I nearly missed the sound of the elevator arriving. Frantically, I rebound the letters and shoved them back into the safe, positioning the sculpture exactly as it had been. I slipped out of the office just as the penthouse door opened.

Gilbert wasn't alone. With him was Victor Crane, CEO of Crane Technologies—our biggest competitor and the man who'd been circling my family's company like a vulture before Gilbert stepped in.

I froze in the hallway, suddenly feeling like an intruder in my own home. Gilbert's expression flickered with surprise before settling back into its usual mask of indifference.

"Kate," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "I didn't expect you to be home."

"Clearly," I replied, trying to sound casual while my mind raced. What was Victor Crane doing here?

Victor's smile was all predatory charm. "Mrs. Blackwood, a pleasure to finally meet you properly. Your hasty wedding was quite the talk of the business world."

I forced a smile. "Mr. Crane. What a surprise."

"Victor and I have some business to discuss," Gilbert said smoothly. "We'll be in my office."

My office. The one I'd just been snooping in. Had I left anything out of place?

"Of course," I said, my voice overly bright. "I'll have Maria bring in some refreshments."

Gilbert gave me a look I couldn't interpret before leading Victor into his office. The door closed firmly behind them.

I waited approximately thirty seconds before creeping closer to the door. Call it intuition or paranoia, but something felt wrong about this meeting.

Gilbert's office was soundproofed—another detail that now seemed suspicious—but the air vent near the ceiling shared ducting with the guest bathroom next door. I slipped inside, stood on the counter, and pressed my ear against the vent.

"—everything prepared?" Victor's voice drifted through.

"Exactly as discussed," Gilbert replied, his tone all business.

"Excellent. This plan has been long in the making." Papers rustled. "Here are the final documents for the Parkinson takedown. Once you sign these, we can begin dismantling everything her father built."

My blood turned to ice. Parkinson—my family name. The company I thought I'd saved by marrying Gilbert.

"The timeline?" Gilbert asked.

"Fast. Two weeks, and Parkinson Enterprises will be nothing but a memory. Your wife won't see it coming until it's too late."

I nearly fell off the counter. The bastard. The absolute bastard. This whole marriage was just a scheme to get inside information on my family's company. The contract, the hidden clauses—all of it a elaborate ruse to make me trust him.

And those letters? Probably just drafts he wrote to practice seeming human.

I was about to storm out of the bathroom and confront them both when I heard a sound that made me pause—the distinctive whir of Gilbert's paper shredder.

"What are you doing?" Victor's voice was sharp with alarm.

"Exactly what it looks like," Gilbert replied coldly. "Destroying your proposal."

"Have you lost your mind? This plan is foolproof! We discussed this for months before she came into the picture!"

"Plans change."

"Because of her? She's just a means to an end, Blackwood. Don't tell me you've actually developed feelings for your contract wife."

There was a long pause. I held my breath.

"Kate," Gilbert said loudly, "I know you're listening through the vent."

I nearly choked. How did he—?

"You do it every time I have sensitive calls," he continued. "The bathroom counter creaks under your weight."

Mortified, I stayed silent.

"Since you're eavesdropping anyway," Gilbert continued, his voice taking on an edge I'd never heard before, "you should know that Mr. Crane was just leaving. Permanently."

"You're making a mistake," Victor snarled.

"The only mistake was entertaining your proposal in the first place. Clause 100, Victor. I always stand by my wife."

The sound of a chair scraping back, footsteps, then the office door opening and slamming shut. Moments later, the elevator dinged.

I climbed down from the counter, my mind reeling. What had just happened? Had Gilbert actually defended me? What was this mysterious Clause 100 he kept referencing?

Taking a deep breath, I marched to his office and pushed the door open without knocking.

Gilbert stood by the shredder, feeding the last of what appeared to be a substantial document into its hungry maw. He didn't look surprised to see me.

"You heard," he said. Not a question.

"Enough," I replied, crossing my arms. "What was that about? Were you planning to destroy my family's company?"

"Initially? Yes." His honesty was jarring. "That was the plan before we met."

"And now?"

Gilbert turned to face me fully. "Now things are different."

"Because of Clause 100?" I challenged.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Among other things."

I stepped closer, my anger still simmering. "I found your letters."

If I expected him to be embarrassed, I was disappointed. He merely raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"They're... unexpected."

"They're private."

"They're about me!"

"Precisely why they're private." He moved around his desk and sat down, infuriatingly calm. "Did you read all of them?"

"Enough to know you're either playing some elaborate game or you're..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

Gilbert picked up a pen, twirling it between his fingers. "I'm what, Kate?"

"Not who I thought you were."

He nodded slowly. "That's fair."

I approached his desk, placing my palms flat on its surface and leaning forward. "I want to know what Clause 100 says. Now."

"You have a copy of the contract."

"It would save time if you just told me."

Gilbert leaned back in his chair, studying me. "Some things are worth the effort of discovery."

I was about to argue further when I noticed something odd about the shredded papers in his waste bin. Among the confetti of destroyed documents were strips of paper with handwriting—not typed text. Curious, I reached in and plucked out a few pieces.

On one strip, I could make out the words "Today I love you because..."

I looked up at Gilbert, confusion washing over me. "These aren't the takeover documents."

For the first time since I'd known him, Gilbert Blackwood looked genuinely uncomfortable. "No."

I fished out more strips, piecing them together like a puzzle. "...the way you challenge me without fear..." another fragment read. And another: "...never seen anyone so beautiful when they're proving me wrong..."

Realization dawned. "This is another letter. To me."

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Letter number twenty-one. I was working on it when Victor arrived unexpectedly."

"So you shredded it."

"I panicked."

The admission—so human, so unlike his usual calculated persona—caught me off guard. I looked at the fragments in my hand, then back at the man who had written them.

"You actually write these every day?"

He nodded once.

"Why?"

Gilbert stood up, coming around the desk to stand before me. "Because saying these things aloud doesn't come naturally to me. But that doesn't mean I don't think them."

I stared at him, really seeing him perhaps for the first time. The man who had negotiated a marriage contract with hidden sweet clauses. Who wrote me love letters he never intended me to see. Who had just burned bridges with a powerful ally to protect me.

"You're a very strange man, Gilbert Blackwood," I said finally.

"So I've been told." Was that the hint of a smile?

"I still don't trust you," I warned him.

"Understandable."

"And I'm still going to find out what Clause 100 says."

This time, he definitely smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you, Kate."

As I turned to leave his office, more confused than ever, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd married a manipulative genius or the world's most emotionally constipated romantic. Possibly both.

Either way, the game had just gotten a lot more interesting.