It had been a week—seven days of sun-drenched skin, passionate nights, and endless laughter. Mira and Jerry had disappeared into their own world, wrapped in love, heat, and mischief. The ocean had witnessed their wild confessions, the stars their whispered promises. They hadn't answered a single call, ignored every message. Because in their world, nothing existed but each other.
Who cared about the outside world when Jerry's lips were brushing against Mira's bare shoulder as they watched the sunset, or when Mira was moaning her name into the sheets?
But all good things… have consequences.
Back at the Penthouse – One Week Later
Jerry pushed the penthouse door open, dragging their bags behind. "Finally back," she chuckled, glancing over her shoulder.
Mira clung to her arm, giggling. "Shhh! We probably look like criminals sneaking back home."
"We are criminals," Jerry smirked. "Criminals of love."
Just as they stepped inside, Jerry stopped short.
Her grip on Mira's hand stiffened.
In the grand hall of the Kingston-Langford shared estate stood both of their grandfathers—Mr. Kingston and Mr. Langford. Stern. Silent. Furious.
Standing beside them was Jerry's manager, pale and visibly sweating.
Jerry's jaw dropped.
Mira instinctively stepped behind her, heart thumping. "Oh god…"
Mr. Kingston's voice boomed, thunderous.
"Jerry! What the hell were you two doing?! Disappearing for a week with no word? Not answering any calls?!"
Jerry blinked, turned slowly to Mira in disbelief. "You didn't tell them?"
Mira shook her head silently, eyes wide.
"Don't look at her now!" Mr. Kingston snapped. "You're the one responsible for this madness!"
Jerry lowered her head. "I… I'm sorry, Grandpa. I just thought…"
Mr. Langford stepped forward, glaring. "Even you, Mira. Your manager has been calling every hour. And you just vanished like a child! This is irresponsible!"
Jerry squeezed Mira's hand protectively. "She's not at fault. I took her away. It was all me. If you're going to be angry, be angry at me, not Mira."
Mira's grip tightened, trembling.
Jerry turned to her and rubbed her thumb softly over Mira's hand. "It's okay, baby. I got you."
Mr. Kingston stepped forward and slapped a file onto the table.
"From now until your wedding, you're forbidden from seeing each other," he declared coldly. "You will sign this agreement. No visits. No calls. No contact."
"What?!" Jerry stepped forward. "You're joking! Grandpa, come on!"
"This is punishment. You can't run away from responsibilities like this," Mr. Langford added. "You both represent legacy—two families tied together in name, wealth, and power."
"And more importantly," Mr. Kingston interjected sharply, "the paper you signed before your engagement clearly states: 'Two heirs from the union of Kingston and Langford bloodlines shall be produced.'"
Jerry's entire body froze. "Wait. What?!"
Mira's lips parted, her face going pale.
Jerry turned slowly toward her. "You knew?"
Mira lowered her head. "I… I didn't think they'd enforce it."
"I JUST LOOK LIKE A MAN!" Jerry shouted, furious now. "I'm not a guy! How do you expect me to give you some 'heirs'? What the hell kind of condition is this?!"
Mr. Langford raised a hand. "We want to talk about this seriously and formally. You two lovers are too blinded by passion to see what this marriage means. You both agreed. And the condition stands."
"You're not even giving us a choice?" Jerry's voice cracked. "I said—we don't want kids. We haven't even talked about it. We're not even married yet!"
"Mira," Mr. Kingston said, turning to her with heavy disappointment. "Do you agree with her?"
Jerry turned to Mira, voice lower. "Tell them, Mira. Tell them we don't need that. We have us. That's all that matters."
But Mira said nothing.
"Mira…" Jerry whispered, eyes searching her face. "You… agree with me, right?"
Mira looked away.
Jerry's heart sank.
Mr. Langford stepped forward, final and cold.
"If you don't agree to this, Jerry… then this engagement is void. That contract you both signed before agreeing to the wedding makes it legally binding. You promised to produce two heirs—or walk away."
The room went silent.
Jerry's breath caught in her throat. Mira's silence felt louder than any scream.
Jerry clenched her fists. "So that's it. If we don't give you grandkids, we can't even be together?"
Mr. Kingston nodded solemnly. "That's the choice."
Jerry looked at Mira one last time—her eyes were glossy, but her mouth didn't open.
A second later, Jerry turned.
"I need to think," she muttered, voice sharp and quiet.
And without another word, she stormed out.
The door slammed behind her.
Jerry's steps were heavy and fast, chest burning as she stormed down the marble hallway. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a war drum—her breath uneven, rage swirling behind her eyes.
How dare they…
How could Mira not say anything?
They think love is a contract? That I'm not enough? That Mira needs a real man?
It felt like her worst fear just came alive.
Her mind raced as she made it to the elevator—pressing the button again and again like she could force it to open faster. The door dinged.
"Jerry!"
She froze.
Her jaw clenched.
Mira's voice came again, breathless. "Jerry, wait!"
The elevator doors opened. Jerry stepped in without looking back.
But just before they could close—
A soft hand slid through the gap.
Mira.
Panting. Eyes wide. Barely able to breathe.
"Don't," Jerry muttered, not meeting her eyes. "Don't come after me."
Mira didn't care. She stepped in, and the doors closed around them.
Silence. The hum of descent.
"Say something," Mira whispered.
Jerry stared ahead.
"I didn't say anything because… because I froze," Mira said shakily. "I didn't agree with them, Jerry. I didn't know what to say. I was scared."
"Of what?" Jerry asked coldly. "Of losing them? Or losing me?"
Mira flinched. "I'm scared of everything right now. But mostly of losing you."
Jerry turned, finally looking at her. Her eyes weren't angry anymore. They were tired. "Then why did you let them make me feel like I'm not enough?"
Mira stepped closer. "You're more than enough. You're everything. Don't you get that?"
Jerry's voice cracked. "Then why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't know how. But I do now."
The elevator stopped on the basement level. Mira hit the stop button before the doors could open.
She turned to Jerry, chest heaving, hands trembling. Then, with a breath, she said:
"I don't care about bloodlines. Or contracts. Or heirs. I want you, Jerry Kingston. I want your scars, your rage, your kisses, your stupid jokes. Your smell on my pillow. Your body tangled with mine at 3 a.m. I want to fight for us. Even if it's against my family. Even if it means losing everything else."
Jerry's throat tightened. She looked away.
Mira walked up to her, slowly. She placed a hand over Jerry's heart. "You said you'd give me everything. Then let me give you everything too. Let me fight this time."
Jerry's lips trembled. "They won't let us get married if we don't give them what they want."
"I don't want a marriage that costs us our peace," Mira whispered. "I'd rather fight than marry under chains."
Jerry let out a broken laugh. "You really chasing me down like this…"
"I'd chase you to the ends of the earth."
Their eyes met.
Heat pulsed in the elevator. Not lust—love. Pure, intense, aching love.
Mira stepped even closer and whispered, "Let me be yours again."
Jerry leaned in, forehead resting against Mira's. "I never stopped being yours."
Their lips met.
Slowly.
Deeply.
A kiss that tasted of tears, apologies, and promises.
When they finally broke apart, Mira smirked. "Now, let's go upstairs, break the contract, and ruin your family dinner together."
Jerry laughed. "You're bad, baby."
"You love it."
"Damn right."
A sharp, cold voice echoed from the hallway.
"Enough of this nonsense."
The elevator doors opened.
And standing right there…
Was Mr. Kingston.
Arms folded. Jaw tight. Eyes like a steel blade.
Behind him, Mr. Langford stood too—silent, unreadable.
Jerry instantly stepped in front of Mira. "You followed us?"
Jerry stood frozen.
Her grandfather's hand rested gently on her shoulder—not with force, not with pressure… but with a silent, aching plea.
"Jerry…" Mr. Kingston's voice had never sounded so… human. "Look at me, my child."
Jerry turned slowly, eyes meeting the man who had raised her with stern discipline and iron expectations. But now… there was pain. Regret. And love.
"It's not easy," Mr. Kingston continued, his voice trembling. "But look at us. We know your heart. You love women. That's why we allowed—arranged—this marriage, so you could love freely, even with this family name."
Jerry's lips parted. "Then why—"
"We don't just want a child from you, Jerry," Mr. Langford stepped closer, eyes watery. "We want to see you happy. We want to see your love last beyond just… passion."
Mr. Kingston nodded slowly. "But you're the last Kingston after me. After I'm gone… the name ends with you. All our family built—your parents' legacy—ends too. I let you be who you are, my girl. But now I'm begging—please. Let us have a part of you that lives on."
A pause. Mr. Langford added in a soft, cracking voice, "We don't care how. Science, surrogacy… just something. A child with both your names. We want to see a piece of both our families live through your love."
Jerry's hands fell limp at her sides, her chest heaving with conflict. "So it's not just about blood."
"No," Mr. Kingston said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes like he used to when she was little. "It's about knowing that after all the storms we've weathered… there's still life. Still love."
Then… they both turned, walking silently back into the penthouse, leaving Jerry and Mira alone again.
The hallway echoed with silence.
Mira slowly wrapped her arms around Jerry from behind, resting her cheek against her back.
"What now?" she whispered. "I'm with you. In any decision."
Jerry turned to face her, eyes shimmering. "I never thought they'd say that… not like this."
Mira nodded, eyes searching hers. "Whatever we do… we'll do it together."
Jerry pressed her forehead to Mira's. "I just want to love you. Build a future with you. I don't care what shape it takes, as long as you're in it."
Mira smiled softly. "Then let's go home. And talk. Not as Langford and Kingston. Not as heirs."
She leaned in and whispered against Jerry's lips.
"But as wives."
Jerry pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss—full of unspoken promises.