The Billionaire's 7th Clause

Mae did not sleep.

Not because she was frightened.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

She simply couldn't stop thinking about the phone call.

You should never have saved Damian Khazri.

The words played over and over in her head.

She checked the call log.

Unknown number.

No name.

No number displayed.

Nothing.

Mae frowned at her screen.

"Great."

She tossed the phone onto the couch.

"Now I'm being threatened by invisible billionaires."

She walked toward the kitchen, then stopped.

Her eyes fell on the watch sitting on the table.

11:48.

It had never gone past 11:47 before.

Mae picked it up.

The second hand moved.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Her stomach tightened.

Then the watch stopped again.

11:48.

"Okay."

She slowly put it down.

"That's creepy."

She decided not to think about it.

Tomorrow, she would return the watch to its drawer.

She would ignore Damian Khazri.

She would find a way to pay her rent.

And she would continue living her completely ordinary life.

That was the plan.

Unfortunately, Damian Khazri had other plans.

At exactly eight in the morning, someone knocked on Mae's door.

She opened it expecting her landlord.

Instead, she found two men in black suits standing outside.

Behind them was Damian.

Mae stared at him.

He stared back.

She looked down at her clothes.

Oversized T-shirt.

Shorts.

One sock.

She slowly looked back at him.

"You're early."

Damian's expression didn't change.

"You're not dressed."

"You came to my house."

"You knew I was coming."

"No, I didn't."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Mae folded her arms.

"Did your lawyer tell you I was expecting you?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you refused my offer yesterday."

"I didn't refuse it."

"You hung up."

"That's different."

"It's exactly the same."

Mae sighed.

"Look, Mr. Khazri, whatever this is about, I'm not interested."

Damian looked past her.

His eyes briefly moved around the tiny apartment.

The cracked wall.

The old sofa.

The stack of unpaid bills.

The empty refrigerator visible through the kitchen doorway.

He looked back at her.

"You need money."

Mae's face hardened.

"That's none of your business."

"I can solve that problem."

"I don't want you to."

"You should."

"Why?"

"Because I'm offering you ten million dollars."

Mae went silent.

Ten million.

Her brain stopped functioning for approximately three seconds.

Then she laughed.

"You've got to be joking."

"I'm not."

"Ten million?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"Marrying me."

Mae stared at him.

Then she looked behind him.

"Are you filming this?"

Damian frowned.

"What?"

"There's no way this is real."

"It is."

"Why me?"

"I'll explain inside."

Mae immediately shook her head.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because rich men don't normally stand outside broke women's apartments offering them ten million dollars before breakfast."

"Then I'm not normal."

"I noticed."

For the first time, Damian almost smiled.

Almost.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a black folder.

He handed it to her.

Mae hesitated before taking it.

The folder felt heavier than it should have.

She opened it.

The first page had her name.

MAYA VELORA.

Her stomach dropped.

She flipped through the pages.

Her address.

Her employment history.

Her education.

Her financial records.

Even the name of her childhood doctor was listed.

Mae's eyes narrowed.

"Did you investigate me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't marry strangers."

"You aren't marrying me."

"I am."

"Well, I'm not marrying you."

Damian's gaze remained steady.

"You will."

Mae slammed the folder shut.

"That sounded incredibly arrogant."

"It's realistic."

"You're unbelievable."

"I've been called worse."

She wanted to throw the folder at him.

Instead, she opened it again.

"What exactly do you want from me?"

Damian's expression changed.

For the first time, something darker appeared in his eyes.

"I need a wife."

"Then find one."

"I don't want one of those women."

Mae blinked.

"Those women?"

"Women who want my money."

She laughed.

"You approached me with ten million dollars."

"You're different."

"You don't know me."

"I know enough."

"Apparently not."

Damian stepped closer.

"You're not impressed by me."

"Should I be?"

"Most people are."

"That's their problem."

His eyes held hers.

"That's exactly why I chose you."

Mae's heart skipped.

She hated that it did.

"There's another reason," he added.

Her smile disappeared.

"What reason?"

Damian didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at the watch on her wrist.

Mae followed his gaze.

Her mother's old watch.

The one that had stopped at 11:47.

Damian's expression changed.

"Where did you get that?"

Mae instinctively covered it.

"It belonged to my mother."

"How long have you had it?"

"Years."

"Did she give it to you?"

"Yes."

"Before she died?"

Mae's expression hardened.

"That's a strange question."

"Answer me."

"Why?"

Damian stepped back.

For the first time since she'd met him, he looked unsettled.

"I've seen that watch before."

Mae stared at him.

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"That's impossible."

"I know."

He looked at the watch again.

"That's the problem."

Silence filled the doorway.

Mae suddenly felt less amused.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Before Damian could answer, a black car stopped outside the building.

Victor Hale stepped out.

Damian's lawyer.

He walked toward them carrying another folder.

"Mr. Khazri."

Damian nodded.

Victor handed him the folder.

"The revised contract."

Mae frowned.

"Revised?"

"You haven't even convinced me to sign the first one."

Damian opened the folder.

"I know."

He handed it to her.

"Read it."

Mae looked at him.

"Here?"

"Yes."

She stepped aside.

"Fine."

Damian and Victor entered.

Mae shut the door behind them.

The contract was strange.

Not because of the money.

That part was straightforward.

Ten million dollars upon marriage.

A monthly allowance.

A private residence.

Complete financial security.

No interference in her career.

No forced intimacy.

No obligation to have children.

It was almost too generous.

Then Mae reached the final page.

There were seven clauses.

The first six were ordinary legal conditions.

The seventh wasn't.

She read it twice.

Then a third time.

CLAUSE 7: The wife shall remain with the husband until October 7th. Under no circumstances shall the marriage be terminated before that date.

Mae looked up.

"Why October 7th?"

Damian didn't answer.

She looked at Victor.

He remained silent.

Mae turned back to Damian.

"What happens on October 7th?"

"Nothing."

"Then why does the contract specifically mention it?"

"Because it's important."

"To who?"

"Me."

Mae closed the folder.

"No."

Damian's jaw tightened.

"Mae."

She froze.

It was the first time he'd called her by her first name.

It sounded strangely intimate.

She shook off the feeling.

"No. I'm not signing something when you refuse to tell me what happens on October 7th."

Damian stared at her for several seconds.

Then he said quietly,

"I die."

The room went silent.

Mae's fingers tightened around the folder.

"What?"

"I die on October 7th."

Victor immediately looked at Damian.

"Sir-"

"She deserves to know."

Mae stared at him.

"You're saying you're going to die?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I don't know."

"When?"

"11:47 PM."

Mae's blood ran cold.

Her eyes slowly dropped to her wrist.

11:48.

Damian noticed.

His expression changed.

"Why did your watch stop?"

Mae swallowed.

"It always does."

"At what time?"

She hesitated.

"11:47."

Nobody spoke.

Damian looked at Victor.

Victor looked equally disturbed.

Mae felt something cold crawl down her spine.

"You've seen this before, haven't you?"

Damian didn't answer.

"Damian."

He looked at her.

"I've seen six women die."

Mae's heart stopped.

"Who?"

"My wives."

She stared at him.

"Your wives?"

"They all died on October 7th."

Mae's fingers went numb.

"All six?"

"Yes."

"And now you want me to marry you?"

"Yes."

"Knowing I could die too?"

Damian's face was unreadable.

"I won't let that happen."

Mae laughed nervously.

"You can't even stop yourself from dying."

"I've been trying."

"For how long?"

He looked away.

"Six years."

Mae stared at him.

Then something clicked.

Six wives.

Six deaths.

One date.

One time.

And now him.

She slowly opened the folder again.

"Why haven't you told the police?"

"Because they think every death was an accident."

"And you don't?"

"No."

"Why?"

Damian's voice dropped.

"Because before every death, the same thing happens."

Mae waited.

"Every clock in the house stops at 11:47."

Her blood ran cold.

Her watch suddenly ticked.

Once.

Twice.

Then stopped.

11:47.

Mae slowly looked down.

Damian saw it.

His face went pale.

Victor stepped forward.

"That's impossible."

Mae looked at Damian.

For the first time, the billionaire looked genuinely afraid.

Then every light in the apartment went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Mae gasped.

A sound came from the old radio sitting on her kitchen counter.

Static.

Damian immediately reached for her.

"Don't move."

The radio crackled.

Then a man's voice whispered through the darkness.

"One wife remains."

Mae couldn't breathe.

The voice continued.

"Seven days to sign."

The lights came back on.

The radio went silent.

Mae turned toward Damian.

He was staring at her.

Not with suspicion anymore.

With fear.

And on the table between them, the marriage contract had opened by itself.

The seventh clause was no longer written in black ink.

It was written in red.

CLAUSE 7: THE WIFE MUST DIE BEFORE THE HUSBAND.