The $25 Million Clause

Summary

My father arranged a marriage for me on his deathbed.

The groom was Weston Cole. If you follow Wall Street, you know the name. He’s the coldest, most ruthless venture capitalist in New York.

Before I moved into his penthouse, I set three strict rules for myself:

Keep it business. Collect the dividends, forget the feelings.

Total autonomy. He does his thing; I do mine.

If a "True Love" ever appears at his door, I pack my bags immediately—provided I get double the severance pay.

Weston seemed perfectly satisfied with how pragmatic I was.

Until the day a teenage boy knocked on our door.