Ehevertrag mit einem Milliardär

Ehevertrag mit einem Milliardär

oyindamola aduke

228.4k Words / Completed
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Introduction

Ich hätte mir nie vorstellen können, dass ich einmal Mrs. Alexander Kane sein würde. Der kalte, rätselhafte Milliardär bemerkt kaum jemanden – geschweige denn mich. Doch als das Testament seines Großvaters verlangt, dass er innerhalb von 18 Monaten heiratet und ein Kind bekommt, werde ich nach der Abweisung dutzender anderer Frauen zu seiner unerwarteten Wahl.

Warum ich? Ich weiß es nicht. Aber ich bin entschlossen, ihm zu zeigen, dass ich mehr bin als nur eine bequeme Lösung.

Das Leben in seiner Welt ist ganz anders, als ich es mir vorgestellt habe. Unter seiner frostigen Fassade verbirgt sich ein Mann, der von Geheimnissen verfolgt wird – und je näher ich ihm komme, desto gefährlicher fühlt es sich an. Was als einfache Vereinbarung begann, wird schnell zu etwas viel Komplizierterem. Jetzt setze ich alles aufs Spiel – einschließlich meines Herzens.

Kann ich das Herz eines Mannes erweichen, der nie an die Liebe geglaubt hat, oder werde ich diejenige sein, die am Ende zerbrochen und allein zurückbleibt?
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oyindamola aduke

Chapter 1

Alexander Kane, New York Citys jüngster Milliardär und einer ihrer begehrtesten Junggesellen, saß im Fond seines maßgeschneiderten Rolls-Royce Phantom und trommelte ungeduldig mit den Fingern auf die gepolsterte Armlehne. Seine Augen wanderten zu der Uhr an seinem Handgelenk, deren glänzendes Zifferblatt den orangefarbenen Schein des Abendhimmels reflektierte, während das Fahrzeug im dichten Verkehr nur langsam vorankam.

Es war bereits 19 Uhr, und er hatte gerade das Büro verlassen – seine Gedanken kreisten um eine weitaus dringlichere Angelegenheit als das Ende des Arbeitstages. Heute war sein Geburtstag, aber der Gedanke an eine Feier fühlte sich für ihn so fremd an wie ein Leben in Mittelmäßigkeit. Was ihn wirklich beschäftigte, war sein Ziel: das alte Familienanwesen, wo das Testament seines verstorbenen Großvaters, Lord Benjamin Kane, verlesen werden sollte.

Alexanders Beziehung zu dem Mann war kompliziert – teils Mentor, teils Tyrann – doch Respekt war nicht verhandelbar. Obwohl das Imperium seines Großvaters nie der Antrieb hinter Alexanders Erfolg gewesen war, hatten die Lehren des alten Mannes ihn zu dem kalten, berechnenden Geschäftsmann geformt, der er geworden war. Seinen Aufstieg verdankte er seinen Fähigkeiten, aber selbst jetzt, mit 30 Jahren, spürte Alexander den Druck der Erwartungen seines Großvaters, die über das Grab hinaus auf ihm lasteten.

Als der Rolls-Royce schließlich die verstopften Straßen hinter sich ließ und die Auffahrt zum Herrenhaus hinauffuhr, schweiften Alexanders Gedanken zurück zu den Erinnerungen an seinen Großvater – die strengen Lektionen, die rücksichtslosen Machtspiele und der unnachgiebige Griff, den der alte Mann über die Familie und das Geschäft hatte. Der Name Kane, einst ein Synonym für absolute Macht, schwebte trotz seines Todes vor fünf Monaten immer noch wie ein Schatten über allem.

Als das Auto zum Stehen kam, beeilte sich sein Assistent, James Parker, die Tür zu öffnen.

"Ganz schön was los," bemerkte Alexander, seine Stimme von Neugierde durchzogen, als er die zahlreichen teuren Fahrzeuge in der Auffahrt sah. Sein Blick verengte sich.

"Gibt es eine Party, von der ich nichts weiß?"

James zögerte, sein Ausdruck unsicher. "Junger Herr... es ist eine Geburtstagsfeier. Ihre Großmutter hat sie für Sie organisiert."

Alexanders Stirn legte sich in Falten. "Eine Geburtstagsfeier?" Die Worte waren von Ungläubigkeit durchdrungen, sein Blick wurde kälter.

James schluckte schwer. "Ja, Herr. Sie bestand darauf."

"Und Sie wussten davon... und haben mir nichts gesagt?"

James trat unbehaglich von einem Fuß auf den anderen, gefangen zwischen der Loyalität zu seinem Chef und dem Druck der Wünsche seiner Großmutter. "Verzeihen Sie, Herr. Ich wurde angewiesen, nichts zu sagen."

Ein Moment der Stille verging, bevor Alexanders Stimme, ruhig und doch von einer bedrohlichen Schärfe durchzogen, die Spannung durchbrach. "Keine Boni für die nächsten sechs Monate."

James zuckte zusammen, seine Gedanken rasten. Der Zorn von Alexander Kane war nichts, dem man leicht entkommen konnte.

Im Inneren des Herrenhauses trafen ihn die fröhlichen Begrüßungen wie eine Flutwelle. "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!" ertönte es von allen Seiten. Alexanders Miene verdüsterte sich weiter, als er seine Großmutter erblickte, die ihn mit einem Lächeln umarmte, das ihre Augen nicht erreichte.

"Ich habe das nicht gewollt, Oma."

Sie lachte leise, obwohl ein Hauch von Traurigkeit darin lag. "Ich weiß, Liebling. Aber es ist dein 30. Du hast noch nie gefeiert."

Sein Blick schweifte durch den Raum, und er konnte das Offensichtliche nicht übersehen – seine Großmutter hatte jede heiratsfähige Frau der New Yorker High Society eingeladen, in der Hoffnung, ihm eine passende Partnerin zu finden. Seine Lippen verzogen sich zu einem schiefen Lächeln. Er war nicht naiv; dies war Teil ihrer endlosen Kampagne, seine Zukunft zu sichern – jedenfalls ihrer Meinung nach.

"Wo ist der Anwalt?" fragte er, ohne die Frauen, die wie Motten um eine Flamme um ihn herumschwirrten, auch nur zu beachten.

Oma Helen hob ihre Augenbraue, deutete aber auf die Treppe. „Lass uns erst etwas trinken. Der Anwalt wird uns oben treffen.“

"Ich gehe schon mal vor," sagte Alexander, sein Ton abweisend.

Als er sich umdrehte, um die Treppe hinaufzusteigen, stürmte eine Frau auf ihn zu, ihr Outfit grell, ihr Parfüm überwältigend. Sie versuchte, näher zu kommen, aber die Sicherheitsleute blockierten schnell ihren Weg.

"Herr Kane, nur einen Moment—lassen Sie mich mich vorstellen. Ich bin sicher, Sie werden—"

„Begleiten Sie sie hinaus,“ befahl Alexander, seine Stimme kalt. „Und sorgen Sie dafür, dass sie nicht zurückkommt.“

Die Proteste der Frau wurden von den entschlossenen Antworten der Wachen übertönt. Alexander sah nicht einmal zurück, als er die Treppe zum zweiten Stock hinaufstieg.

Zwei Stunden später war die Party nichts weiter als eine ferne Erinnerung. Die letzten Gäste waren gegangen, nur Oma Helen marschierte wütend die Treppe hinauf, ihre Wut kaum unter ihrer anmutigen Fassade verborgen.

"Alexander," begann sie, ihre Stimme scharf, "du hast deinen Standpunkt klargemacht. Können wir das jetzt wenigstens hinter uns bringen?"

Alexander saß an einem langen Tisch, der Familienanwalt, Herr Edwards, neben ihm. Seine Großmutter, die Lippen vor Frustration zusammengepresst, nahm ihren Platz ein. Der Rest des Haushaltsstabs verweilte leise im Raum, ihre Anwesenheit eine stille Erinnerung an ihre Loyalität zum Familiennamen.

Der Anwalt richtete seine Brille und räusperte sich. "Laut Testament," begann er, seine Augen über das Papier vor ihm gleitend, "erhält Alexander 50% des Nachlasses, 20% von seiner abwesenden Schwester, 20% von Oma Helen und die restlichen 10% vom Personal. Dies umfasst Kane Enterprises und verschiedene andere Immobilien."

Eine Pause. Jeder im Raum wartete auf den nächsten Teil, spürend, dass es mehr gab.

"Aber," Herr Edwards zögerte, Alexander anblickend, der seit seinem Eintritt in den Raum keine Miene verzogen hatte. „Es gibt eine Bedingung.“

Alexander lehnte sich vor, sein Blick eisig. "Eine Bedingung?"

„Ja," antwortete der Anwalt, seine Stimme leiser werdend. "Um den gesamten Nachlass, einschließlich Kane Enterprises, zu erben, muss Alexander heiraten... und innerhalb eines Jahres und sechs Monaten ein Kind haben. Wenn er dies nicht tut, wird das gesamte Erbe an Waisenhäuser in New York City gespendet.“

Der Raum fiel in Stille. Oma Helens Gesicht verlor jede Farbe. Sie hatte die Haltung ihres Enkels zur Ehe gekannt und unzählige Male versucht, ihn umzustimmen, aber das... das war mehr, als sie erwartet hatte.

Alexanders Ausdruck blieb unergründlich, seine Stimme gleichmäßig, als er den Anwalt ansprach. "Also sagen Sie mir... wenn ich nicht heirate und innerhalb von 18 Monaten ein Kind bekomme, geht alles an die Waisen?"

Der Anwalt nickte, seine Augen funkelten vor Unsicherheit.

Alexanders Blick wanderte zu seiner Großmutter, die nun kämpfte, um die Tränen zurückzuhalten. Er war nicht überrascht; der alte Mann hatte immer darauf gedrängt, aber jetzt schien sein Tod der letzte Nagel in Alexanders Sarg zu sein.

Seine Stimme durchbrach die Stille, scharf und befehlend.

"Raus," befahl er den anderen. Der Butler und das Personal verließen sofort den Raum, nur der Anwalt und Oma Helen blieben zurück.

Sobald die Tür hinter ihnen geschlossen war, wandte sich Alexander mit einem kalten Lächeln an den Anwalt. "Und wenn ich nicht gehorche, was passiert dann mit dem Kane-Erbe?"

Herr Edwards rutschte unbehaglich auf seinem Stuhl hin und her, unsicher, wie er antworten sollte.

„Ich schätze, wir werden sehen,“ murmelte Alexander, seine Augen verengten sich gefährlich. „Aber ich frage mich... werde ich derjenige sein, der mein Schicksal wählt, oder wird mein Großvater das letzte Wort haben?“

Der Anwalt konnte ihn nur anstarren, sein Gesicht erbleichte, als das Gewicht von Alexanders Worten schwer in der Luft hing.

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