Ethan sat in his office, staring blankly at his father's will, which the lawyer had just placed on the desk like it was a casual lunch menu.
"In order to inherit EC Games and remain as CEO, my son Ethan must be married within one year of my death."
"Why was my father so dramatic?" Ethan muttered, rubbing his temples.
Lily, his ever-efficient assistant, stood nearby, sipping tea. "Well, he did think you were emotionally constipated."
Ethan gave her a look. "Very professional, Lily."
"I'm just quoting the man."
As Ethan sighed and leaned back in his chair, the office door burst open.
Alex.
Wearing a cape. And sunglasses. And carrying a piece of paper.
"Daddy! I made a contract!"
Ethan blinked. "Why do you look like a baby mafia boss?"
"I'm not mafia, I'm Cupid! And this is the marriage contract!"
Lily snorted her tea. "Oh no."
Ethan took the paper. It was crayon-written, complete with heart doodles and a clause that said:
"Rule #1: Ethan must marry Elena or face Alex's sadness forever."
"I'm ten seconds away from turning off the Wi-Fi at home," Ethan warned.
"But Daddy," Alex said seriously, "if you don't marry soon, you'll lose your company. Then we'll have no big house, no pizza weekends, and worst of all… no limited edition gaming consoles."
"…You read the will?" Ethan asked, genuinely horrified.
"I asked Google."
Ethan sighed again. "You're five."
"I'm gifted."
That evening, Ethan sat in his study, contract from Alex still on the desk, staring at Elena's portfolio.
"She's responsible. Good with Alex. And doesn't look like someone who'd throw a tantrum on national TV," he mumbled.
He finally picked up his phone and typed a message.
"Elena, can we meet for coffee tomorrow? I have a… proposal. And no, it's not romantic. At least, not the way it sounds."