THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONTRACT WIFE

My father had never asked me to save him before. That was why I knew something was wrong. "Elena." I stopped halfway through the doorway. My father sat at the dining table, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. My mother was beside him, staring down at a cup of tea she hadn't touched. Neither of them looked up. I slowly put my bag down. "What happened?" My father raised his eyes. "Sit." One word. My stomach tightened. I pulled out the chair opposite him. "Dad?" He pushed a document across the table. "Read it." I picked it up. The bank's name was printed across the top. I scanned the first page. Then the second. By the time I reached the final paragraph, my fingers had gone cold. "Eight million dollars?" My father's silence confirmed it. I looked at him. "How?" "The business." "You told me things were improving." "They were supposed to." His voice was tired. I looked at my mother. "How long have you known?" "Three months," she whispered. I stared at her. "Three months?" "We thought your father could handle it." My father lowered his head. "I tried." That stopped me. He didn't sound like a businessman discussing a problem. He sounded like a man who had run out of options. "What happens now?" "The bank has given us thirty days." I swallowed. "And if you can't pay?" He looked toward the window. "They take the company." "And the house?" This time, he didn't answer. I leaned back slowly. For years, this house had been the one thing that never changed. The same walls. The same furniture. The same photographs hanging above the fireplace. It wasn't luxurious, but it was home. Now even that was uncertain. "What about Liam?" My mother's eyes filled with tears. "He doesn't know." I looked toward the hallway. His room was still empty. He was probably at school, completely unaware that the future he was planning for might disappear before he even came home. I pressed my fingers against my forehead. "What are we going to do?" My father reached for an envelope. "We received an offer." He placed it on the table. I recognized the name immediately. Blackwell Holdings. My expression changed. The Blackwells were everywhere. Banks. Hotels. Real estate. Technology. Their name carried enough weight to make people twice their size nervous. "What do they want?" My father said nothing. I looked at my mother. She couldn't meet my eyes. A strange feeling settled in my chest. "Dad." He finally spoke. "They'll clear the debt." I blinked. "All of it?" "Yes." "Why?" He slid another document toward me. I read the first line. Marriage Agreement. I looked up. "No." "Elena, listen." "No." "They specifically requested—" "I said no." My chair scraped against the floor as I stood. "You're telling me a family with billions of dollars wants to pay eight million dollars for me?" "No one is buying you." "Then explain it." My father took a breath. "They want you to marry Adrian Blackwell." I stared at him. Adrian Blackwell. I'd heard the name before. Everyone had. Twenty-nine years old. Heir to one of the most powerful business families in the city. And apparently, he wanted a wife. Me. "This has to be a mistake." "It isn't." "Why would he choose me?" "We weren't told." That answer unsettled me more than the proposal itself. I picked up the agreement. "One year?" My father nodded. I continued reading. A one-year marriage. Public appearances together. Financial support for my family. Separate personal finances. No expectation of love. Then I reached the final condition. No children. I stared at it for a few seconds. At least they had thought of everything. This wasn't a romance. It was a transaction. One year of pretending to be Adrian Blackwell's wife in exchange for saving my family. I put the papers down. "What happens after the year?" "The marriage ends." "And Adrian is fine with that?" "He agreed to the terms." I looked at my father. "You've already spoken to him?" "Through his representatives." Something about that bothered me. This entire arrangement had been discussed while I knew nothing about it. I looked at the contract again. "Does he even know who I am?" "Yes." "How?" My father shook his head. "I don't know." I walked away from the table. The room suddenly felt too small. Why me? That question kept circling through my mind. There were thousands of women who belonged in Adrian Blackwell's world. Women with money. Women with connections. Women who understood his family and their rules. So why had a billionaire chosen a woman like me? I turned around. "Can I say no?" My father didn't answer immediately. That hesitation said enough. "You can," he finally said. "But then we lose everything." I closed my eyes. There it was. Not an order. Not a threat. Something worse. A choice that didn't feel like one. My mother's voice softened. "You don't have to sacrifice yourself." I looked at her. "Then what do we sacrifice?" She had no answer. Neither did my father. I picked up the contract again. The pages felt heavier than they should have. I looked at the signature line. My name wasn't there. Not yet. "I want to meet him." My father looked surprised. "You're considering it?" "I said I want to meet him." I wasn't agreeing. Not yet. Before I signed anything, I needed answers. Why had Adrian chosen me? What did he really expect from this marriage? And why was a man who could have anyone willing to pay eight million dollars for a woman he barely knew? My father nodded slowly. "I'll arrange it." "When?" "Tomorrow." I stared at him. "That soon?" "He wants things handled quickly." Of course he did. A man like Adrian Blackwell probably wasn't used to waiting. I closed the folder. "Does he know I haven't agreed?" "Yes." "And he still wants to meet me?" "Yes." That surprised me. If he already knew I might refuse, why bother meeting me? Unless he was certain I wouldn't. I looked at the contract again. "There's something else." My father waited. "If I consider this, I want my own lawyer." "Fine." "And I want to understand every condition before I sign." "You should." "And nothing changes without my approval." My father gave a small nod. "I'll make sure of it." I wasn't completely satisfied, but it was enough for tonight. I picked up my bag. As I turned toward the stairs, my mother called my name. "Elena." I stopped. She stood slowly. "I am sorry." I looked at her. "For what?" "For putting this in front of you." Her voice broke. I walked back and hugged her. "You didn't create the debt." "No." "But I know what you're asking me to do." She pulled away. "We won't force you." I looked at my father. He didn't say anything. But I could see the fear in his eyes. That was the problem. Nobody had to force me. I knew exactly what would happen if I walked away. I went upstairs and closed my bedroom door. For a few seconds, I simply stood there. Then I placed the contract on my desk. My room looked exactly the same as it had that morning. My books were stacked beside the window. A jacket was hanging over my chair. A photograph of Liam and me sat on the shelf. Everything was normal. Except it wasn't. I opened the contract again. Adrian Blackwell. I traced my finger over his name. I had never met him. I didn't know his voice. I didn't know what he looked like in person. I didn't know whether he was kind, arrogant, cold, or dangerous. All I knew was that tomorrow, I would sit across from a billionaire who wanted to make me his wife. And somehow, I had to decide whether one year of my life was worth saving everything my family had built. I closed the contract. Tomorrow, I would meet Adrian Blackwell. And I was going to find out exactly why he had chosen me.