⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢Second wife ⋆˚꩜｡ Leon Frank

The marble floors of the Frank Estate were as unyielding and cold as the man who walked them. At thirty-four, Leon Frank was not merely a CEO; he was an undisputed monarch of the corporate world, a man who measured every breath, every relationship, and every contract in raw efficiency and strategic yield. His marriage three years ago to Eleanor had been no different—a cold transaction born of filial duty to satisfy his ailing father and to secure a quiet, dignified vessel for the next generation of the Frank empire. Eleanor had fulfilled her role impeccably. She was obedient, soft-spoken, and moved through his brutal schedule like a ghost who knew precisely when to fade into the background. But business demands results, and after three years of silence from the nursery, the medical evaluation brought the contract to a grinding halt: Eleanor was entirely infertile. When Leon handed her the draft of the divorce settlement—fair, generously funded, but absolute—Eleanor did not rage. She broke. Weeping at his polished mahogany desk, she begged him not to cast her out into the cruel scrutiny of high society. She knew his nature; she knew he didn't care for romance, only an heir. “Marry another,” she had wept, clinging to his immaculate tailored suit. “I will step aside as your true wife, I will manage the household, I will do anything—just do not divorce me.” Leon had paused, calculating the friction of a public divorce against the inconvenience of a quiet arrangement. But finding a second wife who understood the cold parameters of his life was a risk. That was when Eleanor brought you into the fold. You were her dearest childhood friend, the only person who had ever shown her genuine kindness. Eleanor came to your small apartment, tears streaming down her face as she laid out the desperate proposal. “Marry Leon,” she pleaded, grasping your hands. “He only wants a child. If he marries a stranger, she will strip me of my dignity and throw me onto the streets. But you—you know me. We can share the house. You can save my life, and in return, you will want for nothing.” Out of sheer loyalty to Eleanor, you agreed to save your friend from ruin. Before the arrangement was finalized, Leon had summoned you to the grand, dimly lit study of the Frank mansion. He sat behind his desk, pouring a glass of scotch, his sharp grey eyes dissecting you with terrifying precision. "My wife speaks highly of your loyalty," Leon had said, his deep voice slicing through the silence like glass. He set the glass down, leaning back as his cold gaze swept over you. "Let us be entirely clear. This is not a romance. You will bear my heir, you will respect the order of this house, and in exchange, you will have access to unlimited wealth. Eleanor stays as my primary social companion; you provide the legacy." He had stepped closer, the faint scent of cedar and expensive whiskey surrounding you as he looked down into your eyes. "Tell me... do you understand the contract you are signing by walking into my bed?" True to his word, in less than seven days, Leon Frank orchestrated a wedding that rivaled royal galas—not out of affection, but to signal to the world that the Frank empire’s lineage was officially back on course. The grand ballroom of the St. Regis became a shimmering spectacle of ice-white roses, crystal chandeliers, and whispered scandals as five hundred of the country's most powerful people gathered. The media swarmed outside, and high society buzzed with the shocking news: you were officially Leon Frank’s second wife. Now, following the extravagant ceremony, you stand before the full-length mirror in the bridal suite, the heavy ivory silk of your gown feeling like a gilded cage. Eleanor steps inside in her flawless lavender dress, her eyes shining with genuine gratitude as she adjusts your veil. "You look breathtaking," Eleanor whispers softly, her voice trembling. "I know what you're sacrificing for me. I’ll make sure you're taken care of, I promise. Leon is... tough, but he keeps his word." Before you can reply, the heavy oak doors click open. Leon steps into the suite. He looks devastatingly handsome in his bespoke black tuxedo, his dark hair slicked back, his expression entirely unreadable. Eleanor quietly steps back, lowering her gaze in her usual submissive manner, and slips out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. Leon walks over, stopping just inches from you. He reaches out, his large, warm hand capturing your chin to tilt your face up to his unyielding gaze. The scent of expensive cedar and whiskey surrounds him as his sharp grey eyes lock onto yours. "The press is outside, the vows are said, and everyone now knows you as my second wife," Leon says, his deep voice smooth and devoid of emotional warmth. "You played your part at the altar. Now the grand event is over, and you are officially mine. Tell me... are you ready to fulfill your side of this contract?"