THE NO-FALLING-IN-LOVE CLAUSE
“Are you in love with Adrian Hale?”
Camera flashes exploded across the room, so bright that Emma Collins could barely see the hundreds of reporters crowded before her.
Beside her, Adrian remained perfectly composed. His black suit was immaculate, his sharp jaw tense, and one hand rested lightly against the small of her back—as though he were protecting the woman he loved.
Only Emma knew that his fingers had tightened.
A warning.
Remember the contract.
She stared into the cameras, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs.
“Yes,” Emma said. “I’m in love with him.”
The room erupted.
Adrian turned to her.
There was no relief in his grey eyes.
Only shock.
Because in the contract they had signed three months earlier, one clause had been printed in bold:
Neither party shall develop genuine romantic feelings for the other.
Three months earlier, Emma had been nothing more than a contract lawyer fighting to keep her job at one of London’s most prestigious firms.
She was intelligent, disciplined, and notoriously difficult to intimidate. She never allowed emotion to influence her decisions.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
No one knew she was drowning in the enormous debt her late father had left behind. No one knew the bank was preparing to repossess her small flat.
And no one knew that, on that particular morning, her senior partner would summon her into his office and place a black folder on the desk.
“Adrian Hale,” he said. “Founder of Hale Hotels. Thirty-two years old. Worth nearly a billion pounds. And currently in serious trouble.”
Emma opened the folder and skimmed the printed headlines.
BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN HALE ACCUSED OF BETRAYING FIANCÉE
THOUSANDS OF JOBS AT RISK AFTER HALE HOTELS SCANDAL
“He needs a lawyer?” Emma asked.
“He needs a girlfriend.”
She looked up slowly.
Her boss slid a contract toward her.
For six months, Emma would appear beside Adrian at public events, attend interviews with him, and help rebuild his image as a stable, trustworthy businessman.
In return, she would receive enough money to clear every debt she owed.
“No.”
“You haven’t seen the fee.”
“I don’t need to.”
The door opened behind her.
“I don’t like the idea either.”
The deep voice made Emma turn.
Adrian Hale stood in the doorway, wearing an expression that suggested the entire world was wasting his time.
He was taller than he appeared in photographs. Better-looking, too.
And considerably more irritating.
His gaze moved over Emma’s modest suit before settling on the contract.
“She isn’t suitable.”
Emma folded her arms.
“Fortunately, I have no intention of accepting.”
One corner of Adrian’s mouth lifted.
“At least we agree on something.”
Ten minutes later, they were arguing.
Twenty minutes later, Emma discovered that the woman accusing Adrian of betrayal was the daughter of an investor attempting to force him to sell his company.
Thirty minutes later, Adrian revealed that if an upcoming deal with an American corporation failed, more than two thousand employees could lose their jobs.
One hour later, Emma signed the contract.
Not because of Adrian.
She reminded herself of that.
She was doing it to save her flat. To repay the debt. To protect thousands of jobs.
It certainly had nothing to do with the moment Adrian spoke about his employees and the coldness disappeared from his eyes, revealing a flash of genuine fear.
The contract was twelve pages long.
Clause Three: Neither party shall display conflict in public.
Clause Seven: All physical contact must be agreed upon in advance.
Clause Ten: Neither party shall interfere in the other’s private life.
The final clause: Neither party shall develop romantic feelings.
Emma signed without hesitation.
So did Adrian.
They both assumed it would be the easiest clause to obey.
Their first fake date took place at an elegant restaurant overlooking the Thames.
Emma wore a red dress selected by Adrian’s public relations team.
Adrian arrived twelve minutes late.
“Do you always keep women waiting?” she asked as he took his seat.
“Only the ones being paid to wait.”
Emma smiled sweetly for the photographers gathered outside the window.
Under the table, she kicked him sharply in the shin.
Adrian did not flinch.
Instead, he leaned forward, placed his hand over hers, and spoke quietly enough that only she could hear.
“Violence isn’t covered by the contract, Miss Collins.”
“You’re welcome to sue me.”
“I’m considering it.”
The next morning, photographs of them gazing “lovingly” into each other’s eyes appeared in every newspaper.
No one knew that, at the moment the photograph was taken, Emma had been threatening to pour wine over his head.
The dates that followed became easier.
They attended a hotel opening in Manchester. They danced together at a charity gala. They answered ridiculous questions about how they had supposedly met.
Emma discovered that Adrian only drank black coffee when he was under pressure. He hated parties but remembered the name of every employee who served him. He had secretly paid the medical bills of a hotel manager’s daughter without allowing anyone to know.
Adrian learned that Emma never slept enough. She removed her high heels the moment they left an event. She pretended not to be frightened of thunder, but whenever a storm began, her hands curled into tight fists.
One evening, after an event in Edinburgh, their car became trapped in a violent storm.
Thunder cracked across the sky.
Emma flinched.
Adrian said nothing.
He simply held out his hand between their seats.
He did not look at her.
He did not pressure her.
After a moment, Emma placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers, warm and steady.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she said.
“I’ll add it to the confidentiality agreement.”
Emma laughed.
It was the first moment she forgot they were pretending.
Their first kiss happened two weeks later.
According to the plan, it was supposed to be nothing more than a brief touch of the lips in front of hundreds of guests at a charity gala.
Clause Seven had been discussed carefully.
No longer than three seconds.
No unscripted contact.
Adrian wrapped an arm around her waist.
Emma placed her hands on his shoulders.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three.
He was supposed to release her.
But as Emma began to pull away, Adrian suddenly drew her closer.
The second kiss was not in the contract.
It was deeper. Slower.
And more real than anything that had passed between them before.
Applause filled the ballroom.
Emma barely heard it.
When Adrian finally released her, his eyes had darkened.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Emma struggled to catch her breath.
“Don’t apologise when you don’t regret it.”
She turned away before he could see the emotion trembling in her eyes.
After that night, everything changed.
Adrian began avoiding being alone with her.
Emma began counting the days until the contract ended.
Neither of them mentioned the kiss.
They both knew the final clause had already been broken.
Neither was brave enough to admit it first.
Three days before Adrian’s company was due to sign the deal that would secure its future, an audio recording was leaked to the press.
In it, Emma could be heard speaking to her employer.
“I only need to survive six months. Once I have the money, I’ll disappear from his life.”
She had said it on the first day of the arrangement.
The newspapers did not care about context.
They only needed a scandal.
ADRIAN HALE’S GIRLFRIEND ADMITS RELATIONSHIP IS FAKE
Hale Hotels’ share price collapsed.
The American investors demanded an emergency press conference.
Emma called Adrian seventeen times.
He did not answer.
When she arrived at his office, security refused to let her enter.
An assistant brought down an envelope.
Inside was a termination agreement bearing Adrian’s signature.
There was also a cheque.
The amount was more than enough to save Emma’s flat.
She tore it in half.
The following morning, she attended the press conference despite not being invited.
When she entered the ballroom, Adrian was standing alone on the stage.
“I accept full responsibility,” he told the assembled reporters. “Miss Collins had no involvement in the company’s decisions.”
He was still protecting her.
Even though he believed she had used him.
Emma pushed through the crowd.
“Are you in love with Adrian Hale?” a reporter shouted.
The room fell silent.
Adrian turned toward her.
His hand settled against the small of her back, his fingers tightening in warning.
Remember the contract.
Emma looked at the man who had held her hand during a storm. The man who remembered that she took her tea with two sugars. The man who always waited outside until he was certain she had entered her building safely.
She knew she could lie.
She could deny everything and give Adrian a chance to save his company. She could leave with what remained of her pride.
But love was not a courtroom.
The safest answer was not always the right one.
“Yes,” Emma said. “I’m in love with him.”
Camera shutters fired across the room.
She continued before fear could silence her.
“Our relationship began with a contract. That part is true. I accepted money to appear beside him.”
A wave of whispers spread through the audience.
“But no one paid me to stay awake until three in the morning while he reviewed plans to protect his employees. No one paid me to worry when he skipped meals. And I was certainly never paid to fall in love with an arrogant, impossible man who believes he has to solve every problem alone.”
A few reporters laughed.
Adrian did not take his eyes off her.
Emma pulled the contract from her bag and opened it to the final page.
“I broke this clause a long time ago.”
She tore the contract in half.
“And I don’t want your money.”
She placed the pieces on the table and walked off the stage.
Adrian did not follow her.
Emma told herself that was for the best.
At least she had finally told the truth.
Rain was falling when Emma left the hotel.
She had walked half a block when she heard someone call her name.
“Emma!”
Adrian ran into the street without a coat, without his security team, and without any concern for the reporters chasing after him.
He caught her wrist.
“You can’t say something like that and walk away.”
Emma turned to face him.
“What would you prefer? Shall I stay so you can sue me for breach of contract?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
Adrian pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket.
“The compensation clause,” he said. “The party responsible for the breach must repair the damage.”
“How much do you want?”
“A lifetime.”
Emma stopped breathing.
Rain ran down Adrian’s face, but for the first time, he made no attempt to hide what he was feeling.
“I heard the entire recording,” he said. “After you said you would disappear, you told your employer that if I ever endangered my employees, you would end the arrangement even if you weren’t paid a penny.”
“Then why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Because I’m a coward.”
Emma blinked.
“I can face the press, my shareholders, and the collapse of an entire company. But I didn’t know what to do when the woman I loved said she was going to disappear.”
Her breath caught.
Adrian stepped closer.
“I signed that contract because I thought I could no longer trust anyone. You ruined that.”
“That doesn’t sound like a declaration of love.”
“I’ve never been good at this.”
“That, I believe.”
The corner of his mouth lifted.
“Emma Collins, I love you. Not because you make me look respectable in the newspapers. Not because you saved the deal. I love you because you’re the only woman who has ever kicked me under a restaurant table, challenged me in front of my board, and torn up a cheque worth a small fortune.”
Emma tried to maintain a serious expression.
“What happens to my flat?”
“I’m not buying it for you.”
“Good.”
“But I happen to know an exceptional lawyer who is perfectly capable of saving it herself. Particularly now that she has been offered the position of chief legal counsel at Hale Hotels.”
“Are you bribing me?”
“Absolutely not. Human Resources will send you a fair contract.”
“Will it include a clause forbidding us from falling in love?”
“No.”
Adrian took a pen from his pocket and wrote on the back of the termination agreement.
Then he handed it to her.
There was only one line:
The only condition: When something goes wrong, neither of us is allowed to walk away.
Emma read it and looked up.
“What’s the duration?”
Adrian’s voice softened.
“Forever.”
Emma took the pen and signed her name.
Then she pulled him down by the collar and kissed him in the rain.
This time, there was no three-second limit.
No script.
No contract.
And none of the cameras mattered.
Six months later, the Hale Hotels deal was completed.
Not a single employee lost their job.
Emma kept her flat, although she spent most nights at Adrian’s home.
One year later, he proposed with a contract exactly one page long.
Clause One: Adrian must make Emma tea every morning.
Clause Two: Emma is entitled to win every argument—or so she insisted.
The final clause was printed in bold:
Both parties agree to remain in love, even when doing so is entirely unreasonable.
Emma signed without reading the fine print.
For the first time in her life, she did not need to.
She already knew exactly what she was agreeing to.