Signed To Love You

The air in the Bennetts’ living room was thick with silence, the kind that choked. Olivia Bennett sat across from her father’s old lawyer, her fingers clenched so tight her knuckles had turned white. She had grown up in this room—where her mother once played piano, where her father used to read the paper every Sunday. Now, it felt cold, stripped of life, and heavy with desperation. “Olivia,” Mr. Wexler began, his tone too gentle for the news he carried, “Your father’s company is on the verge of liquidation.” She didn’t blink. She couldn’t. Her stomach twisted as the words settled. “There has to be another way.” Wexler sighed, sliding a paper across the coffee table. The figures were brutal. Debt. Foreclosure. Lawsuit threats. Everything her father built was crumbling, and with his recent stroke, he wasn’t strong enough to fight anymore. “There is one way…” he said slowly. She lifted her head. “What?” Wexler hesitated. “Elijah Knight.” The name hit her like a slap. Her heart stilled. “No.” “He’s willing to settle the debt,” Wexler continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, “if you agree to marry him.” Olivia shot to her feet, her breath caught in her throat. “You’re joking.” “I wish I were.” Elijah Knight. Billionaire. CEO of Knight Enterprises. The man who once held her heart… and shattered it without remorse three years ago. They had been college sweethearts once—he, the charming business prodigy; she, the idealistic daughter of a respected businessman. They were in love, reckless and sure of forever, until he vanished from her life without explanation. No calls. No closure. Nothing. Now he wanted to marry her? “What kind of sick game is this?” she demanded. Wexler opened his briefcase and handed her another envelope. “He sent this.” With shaking fingers, she opened it. Inside was a simple contract. > Marriage Term: 1 year. – No divorce until completion. – No emotional entanglement. – Appear together in public as husband and wife. – Bedroom relations not required. – In exchange, all family debts will be cleared. Signed: Elijah R. Knight Olivia stared at the signature—bold, confident, cruel. “He can’t be serious,” she whispered. “He is.” Tears stung her eyes. “Why me? After all these years?” “I think he still wants something from you, Olivia. But whether it’s revenge, power, or something else... I don’t know.” Her heart pounded. She glanced toward the hallway, where her father rested. Hooked up to machines. Weak. Helpless. If she didn’t do this, everything he built would be gone. Their home. His reputation. Their legacy. And all because of one man. Later that night Olivia stood outside the Knight Enterprises skyscraper, her heels echoing on the marble steps. She had aged emotionally in one day. The woman who walked through the revolving doors wasn’t the Olivia Bennett of yesterday—she was someone hardened, armored, dangerous in her own way. The receptionist ushered her to the top floor. Glass walls. Chrome furniture. And behind the desk, Elijah Knight. Her breath caught again, this time for an entirely different reason. He looked… devastating. Black suit. Sharp jawline. Eyes like obsidian, cold and unreadable. Time had only made him more refined, more powerful. He didn’t stand when she entered. Just watched her like she was both prey and predator. “You got my offer,” he said simply. Olivia stepped forward. “Why me, Elijah?” He leaned back in his chair. “Because no one plays the role of my wife better than you.” Her hands curled into fists. “Is that what I was? A role to you?” His jaw flexed, but he didn’t answer. “Why now?” “Because your family needs saving. And I’m offering the solution.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t pretend this is charity. You’re doing this for a reason.” “You’re right. I need a wife.” “Then go to hell and marry one of your supermodels.” He smirked. “They don’t have your fire.” She hated how he could still get under her skin. “This is a game to you.” “No. It’s a deal. Just like the old days.” Her throat tightened. The old days… when she thought he loved her. “What do you get out of this, Elijah?” she asked quietly. He stood now, walking around the desk until he was in front of her. So close. Too close. “You, Olivia,” he said, voice low. “On paper. In public. In my house.” She looked up at him. “But not in your heart.” A flicker passed over his face, then vanished. “Don’t ask for what I don’t offer.” Her voice was ice. “Then I want one clause added.” He raised an eyebrow. “No touching. No intimacy. No crossing that line.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Afraid you’ll fall in love with me again?” “No,” she said, her voice firm. “Afraid I’ll start to believe you care.” The air crackled between them. “I’ll have my lawyers add it,” he said. “And if I say no?” “Your father loses everything.” She hated him in that moment. And maybe a little of herself. But she said, “Fine.” The next morning The wedding was arranged in two days. No white dress. No music. No guests. Just two signatures in a courtroom, a cold kiss on the cheek for photos, and an empty smile for the cameras. Olivia wore cream. Elijah wore gray. Their smiles were practiced. Their eyes—soulless. Reporters swarmed them afterward. “Elijah, is it true you two dated in college?” “Yes.” “And now you’re married after all this time—how romantic!” Elijah looked down at Olivia. “Some things never die.” She forced a smile, but her chest felt tight. He was lying. They were lying. That night She entered the penthouse alone. He had gone out for a “meeting.” Of course. The place was cold, sterile. No warmth, no welcome. On the kitchen island sat a note: > “Your room is the second door on the right. I’ll be staying in the master. Keep your distance. —Elijah.” Olivia crumpled the note in her hand. So this was marriage. Cold instructions and colder walls. But as she walked to her assigned room, she told herself: One year. Just one year. Then I’m free. She had signed the deal. Now she would survive it. But deep down, a voice whispered: What if surviving him was the hardest part?