Tied to You Read Online Free

packages. “Ms Walker?” he asks. I nod and sign for my parcels before heading back into my flat. My tiny studio is sparse; the escalation of my mother’s disease and mounting costs for her care have directly correlated with the slow selling off of my worldly goods and the downsizing of my living arrangements.
    I leave the parcels on the table and then head over to the cupboard that houses the little kitchenette area. I pop the kettle on and make myself a cup of tea before sitting down to open the packages. The first box contains a smartphone, all shiny and new compared with the completely basic phone that I own. There is no note attached, but my assumption is that this is from Alex. After all, who else would be sending me things?
    I plug the phone in to charge before turning my attention to a large flat box. When I finally pull out the contents, I find myself holding a small laptop and I guess it is one of those Chromebook computers that seem to be all the rage at the moment. Not sure if it needs charging as well, I plug the computer in and then turn my attention to the third and final package. Seconds later and I am holding the manuscript in my hands along with a handwritten note from Alex:
    Dear Olivia,
    As promised here is your manuscript. I trust that you will still honour our arrangement. We can discuss payment separately.
    The laptop and phone are encrypted, so please ensure that you use them for all communication between us. You will find my details already stored on both devices, and I have set up a new email account for you.
    I have emailed you a copy of the prenuptial agreement that I have had drawn up. If you are happy with the terms, you can sign it electronically and email it back.
    Any questions, just drop me an email.
    All the best,
    Alex
    The note is impersonal and business-like, which suits me fine. This is a business arrangement, after all. I sip on my tea as I wait for the laptop to load. When the home screen is finally up, I click on the email icon and then open up the email that is waiting for me.
    I read through the attached document, my brain swimming as I try to read between the lines of ‘legalese’. As I understand it, the contract states that if we remain married for a full year, Alex will take care of all my debts and my mother’s care for the year that we are together and I will get a payout of a million pounds when we divorce. What surprises me most is the caveat about ‘extramarital relations’. It appears that I am perfectly fine to have a lover as long as I am discreet. Okay, I hadn’t even thought about that. It also states that Alex will also be able to make his visits to his ‘club’, though I am not sure what that means. Maybe this lifestyle thing is a secret society or something equally obscure. I find myself grinning as my imagination conjures up an image of hooded men exchanging strange handshakes in a darkened room lined with sconces.
    I spend some time chewing over the document as I finish my cup of tea, trying to figure out the source of my unease. It is not the idea of being able to have another relationship whilst being married; I will be fine…it’s not like I am not used to being on my own, but a year is a long time for a guy to go without, I guess. No, it is the idea of the payoff at the end. With trembling fingers, I reach for the new phone, find Alex’s direct line and hit dial. I am relieved when he answers after a couple of rings.
    “Good morning, Olivia,” says Alex smoothly. I wonder how the hell he knows it is me, but then I realise he has already programmed his number, so its stands to reason he knows mine.
    “Morning, Alex. Are you okay to chat for a couple of minutes? I don’t want to interrupt your day,” I ask. Inwardly I am cursing the tremble that I hear in my voice, the nerves making themselves apparent.
    “Sure thing. I guess you have had a chance to read through the document?” Alex asks, his voice calm and even, as if he is completely