EPISODE 2 Signed in Blood
803 Words
Amara stood frozen in Adrian Kane’s office, the marriage contract trembling in her hands.
The silence felt heavy so heavy she could hear her own heartbeat.
“This… this has to be a joke,” she whispered.
Adrian lifted a brow. “Do I look like a man who jokes?”
No.
No, he didn’t.
He looked like a man whose presence alone demanded obedience.
She forced herself to turn the pages, her fingers shaking as she read:
• Six months marriage.
• No romantic involvement unless mutually agreed.
• No leaving the Kane mansion without permission.
• No discussing the arrangement with anyone.
• A five-million-naira payment upon completion.
• Immediate payment of her mother’s hospital bills.
Her throat tightened painfully.
“Why me?” she finally asked. “You could choose any woman.”
Adrian exhaled quietly and walked toward the window. Rain hit the glass behind him, making him look even more distant, powerful… unreachable.
“Because every woman I know wants something from me,” he said.
“Status. Fame. A last name.”
He turned slightly, his sharp grey eyes locking with hers.
“But you,” he said. “You want to survive. That makes you more trustworthy than they will ever be.”
Amara swallowed hard. She didn’t feel trustworthy. She felt trapped.
“What do you need a wife for?” she whispered.
Adrian’s jaw clenched. For a moment, something flashed in his eyes resentment? Pain? Anger?
It vanished just as quickly.
“My grandfather’s will,” he said. “He left a clause behind. If I’m not married by the time I turn 30 next month, I lose everything to a cousin who would burn my company to the ground.”
Ah.
So this was about the empire.
The money.
The power.
And somehow she ordinary, broke Amara was standing in the middle of it.
“Sign,” Adrian said, sliding a pen toward her, “and your mother’s treatment begins today.”
He said it so simply, like he wasn’t asking her to sell six months of her life.
Like he wasn’t turning her entire world upside down.
Amara stared at the pen. Her breath trembled.
“This feels wrong,” she murmured.
“What feels wrong,” he said quietly, “is watching your mother suffer because you don’t have enough money to save her.”
Her chest tightened.
Because he was right.
Painfully right.
She picked up the pen.
Her fingers felt cold.
As she pressed the tip to the paper
“Stop.”
Adrian’s voice cut through the air.
She looked up sharply. His eyes were on her hand, his expression unreadable.
“You should know what you’re getting into,” he said.
“My world is not soft. It’s not warm. It’s not kind.”
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice low.
“If you enter it, everything changes. People will watch you. Judge you. Hate you. You’ll be dragged into battles you don’t understand.”
Her heart hammered. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because once you sign,” Adrian said, “you become mine. And I protect what’s mine. Even with blood.”
A shiver rushed down her spine.
Not fear.
Something else. Something wild and dangerous and impossible to name.
He stepped back.
“Now choose, Amara.”
She closed her eyes.
Her mother’s smile flashed in her mind.
Her weak voice.
The hospital bed.
When she opened her eyes again, she knew the decision had already been made.
With one breath, she signed her name.
Amara Lawson.
The moment the pen lifted from the paper, Adrian took the contract, scanned it, then pressed a button on his desk.
“Send the car,” he said.
“She moves into the Kane mansion tonight.”
Amara blinked. “T-tonight?”
He smirked faintly his first expression since she met him.
“Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Kane.”
Her heart dropped.
Mrs. Kane.
It sounded unreal.
Before she could react, the office door opened and a woman in a black suit walked in.
“Your escort is ready, sir.”
“Good,” Adrian said. Then he turned to Amara. “Pack only what you need. Everything else will be provided.”
“Everything?” she whispered.
He leaned closer, his voice brushing her skin like a touch.
“Everything.”
Her knees nearly buckled.
As she stepped out of the office, Adrian’s eyes followed her.
Cold. Calculated.
But as soon as the door closed behind her—
His expression changed.
Just for a second.
Something dark.
Something dangerous.
Something like desire… mixed with fear.
“Six months,” he murmured to himself.
Then, almost too quietly to hear:
“She has no idea what she’s stepping into.”
- Writer
