The Contract Clause
The penthouse dining room was colder than a courtroom. The floor-to-ceiling glass offered a panoramic view of the city’s steel and concrete rising into a pale sky, but the light felt thin, sterile. Mara Vale clutched her coffee cup, its ceramic warmth a stark contrast to the chill emanating from the polished marble table and, more acutely, from Adrian Blackwood. His gaze, sharp and assessing, felt less like a partner’s and more like a prosecutor’s. This fake engagement, meant to be a simple transaction, was already proving to be