Bought as His Contract Wife

“Sign it.” Elara Quinn stared at the document on the table, her fingers trembling despite her effort to stay composed. The words blurred before her eyes, not because she could not read them, but because she already knew what they meant. Marriage Contract. Duration: Two years. Terms: Absolute obedience within the scope of marriage. Clause 7: Emotional involvement is prohibited. Her breath felt shallow. The air in the private office was cold, sterile, and suffocating. Across from her sat a man she had never met before tonight, yet somehow, he already held her entire life in his hands. Adrian Blackwood. CEO of Blackwood Holdings. One of the most powerful men in the city. Ruthless, untouchable, and known for destroying anyone who stood in his way. “I don’t understand,” Elara said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why me?” Adrian leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp and unreadable. His suit was immaculate, dark and tailored perfectly to his broad frame. Everything about him radiated control. “Your family owes my company twelve million dollars,” he replied calmly. “They cannot pay. You are the alternative.” Elara swallowed hard. “This isn’t a business deal. This is my life.” “To me,” Adrian said flatly, “your life is part of the deal.” Her chest tightened. She clenched her hands on her lap, nails digging into her skin. “You are asking me to marry a stranger.” “No,” he corrected. “I am offering you a solution.” Her eyes burned. “By selling myself?” A faint smile touched his lips, cold and humorless. “Do not flatter yourself. This is not about desire.” The door behind her creaked open. “Elara.” She turned to see her father standing there, his shoulders slumped, eyes hollow with shame. The man who had once promised to protect her looked broken, defeated. “Dad,” she whispered. He avoided her gaze. “We don’t have a choice.” The words struck harder than any slap. Elara laughed weakly. “So that’s it? You gamble everything away and then hand me over like collateral?” Her father flinched. “I never wanted this.” “But you let it happen,” she said, her voice shaking. “You let him buy me.” Adrian stood, his height suddenly intimidating as he approached the table. He placed a pen beside the contract with deliberate precision. “This conversation is unnecessary,” he said. “Time is limited.” Elara looked up at him, anger mixing with fear. “You talk like I’m an object.” “You are,” he replied without hesitation. “Until the contract ends.” The room fell silent. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure they could hear it. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to refuse, to scream until her throat bled. But reality pressed down on her like a weight. If she walked away, her family would lose everything. Their house. Their business. Their future. She picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the signature line. Adrian watched her closely, his eyes dark and calculating. “You can still walk out,” he said, his tone indifferent. “But understand this. If you do, I will collect the debt in other ways. Your father will not survive it.” Elara’s vision blurred with tears. “You’re cruel.” “Yes,” Adrian said. “And honest.” She signed. The sound of the pen against paper felt deafening. Adrian took the contract, scanned it briefly, then nodded. “Good.” Just like that, it was done. Elara sat there, numb, her hands cold. She had expected some reaction. Triumph. Satisfaction. But Adrian merely returned to his seat as if they had just closed a routine business deal. “When does this start?” she asked quietly. “Immediately,” he replied. “You will move into my residence tonight.” Her head snapped up. “Tonight?” “You are my wife as of now,” Adrian said. “Appearances matter.” “I don’t even have my things.” “You will be provided with everything you need.” “I don’t want your charity.” “It is not charity,” he said. “It is ownership.” Her stomach twisted. They left the building in silence. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows of Adrian’s car as Elara stared out, trying to keep her emotions under control. The world she knew felt distant now, unreachable. She glanced at Adrian. “Why are you really doing this?” He did not look at her. “Because I need a wife.” “That can’t be the only reason.” “It is enough,” he said. The car stopped in front of a massive estate surrounded by iron gates and towering walls. The house looked less like a home and more like a fortress. Inside, everything was pristine. Cold marble floors. Minimalist decor. No warmth. “This will be your room,” Adrian said, opening a door at the end of the hallway. Elara stepped inside and froze. The room was large, luxurious, and undeniably beautiful. But it felt like a cage. “Do we share a room?” she asked. “No,” he replied. “This is a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.” Relief washed over her, quickly followed by humiliation. “Rules,” Adrian continued. “You will attend events with me when required. You will not interfere with my business. You will not embarrass me.” “And if I break the rules?” she asked. His gaze hardened. “You will regret it.” She met his eyes, refusing to look away. “You don’t own my soul.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “We will see.” That night, Elara lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The silence was heavy, broken only by distant city noise. Her life had changed in a matter of hours. She had been bought. And somewhere down the hall, Adrian Blackwood stood by his window, watching the city below. His jaw was tight, his expression dark. He reached into his drawer and pulled out an old photograph. A woman who looked painfully similar to Elara smiled back at him. “Two years,” he murmured. “That’s all it will take.” What Elara did not know was this. Her marriage was not just a contract. It was a trap. And she was never meant to walk away unscathed.