CHAPTER ONE— THE GOLDEN CAGE
Sign it."
The voice was as cold as the glass of bourbon resting on the mahogany desk between us.
I looked down at the thick stack of papers. The words Marriage Contract stared back at me in a bold, sterile font that seemed to mock the very idea of a wedding. My hands trembled, just a fraction, as I gripped the silver pen.
"I haven’t finished reading the clauses regarding the exit strategy," I whispered, my voice sounding small in the vastness of the Blackwood penthouse.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the New York City skyline glittered like a sea of diamonds. Up here, on the 82nd floor, the world looked perfect. But down on the streets, my life was a pile of ashes. My father’s medical bills were suffocating me, and the family estate—the only thing I had left of my mother—was days away from being auctioned off to the highest bidder.
"The exit strategy is simple, Elena," Julian Blackwood said, leaning forward.
The light from the chandelier caught the sharp angles of his face. He was devastatingly handsome in a way that felt dangerous—square jaw, eyes the color of a stormy Atlantic, and a mouth that looked like it hadn't smiled in a decade. He wore a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my entire college tuition.
"One year," he continued, his tone clipped. "You play the doting wife. You attend the galas, you smile for the Board of Directors, and you convince my grandfather that I am a settled, responsible man fit to take over the CEO position of Blackwood International."
"And in return?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"In return, I clear your father's debts tonight. And on the three-hundred-and-sixty-fifth day, you walk away with ten million dollars in a blind trust. You'll never have to work another day in your life."
Ten million dollars. It was the price of my freedom—and my soul.
"No physical intimacy," I reminded him, my heart hammering against my ribs. "That was my condition."
Julian’s eyes darkened as they swept over me, lingering for a second too long on my lips. A shiver that wasn't entirely fear raced down my spine.
"I have no interest in making this complicated, Elena. I need a partner for a business deal, not a lover. As long as the public believes we are sharing a bed, I don't care if you sleep in the guest wing."
He pushed the pen closer to me.
"The clock is ticking. My grandfather’s anniversary gala is in two hours. You either walk into that room as my fiancée, or you walk out of this building and let the banks take everything you have left."
I looked at the signature line. Elena Vance. If I did this, there was no turning back. I would be property of Blackwood International for a year. I would be the wife of a man who looked at me like a line item on a balance sheet.
I thought of my father’s tired eyes in the hospital bed. I thought of the 'Foreclosure' sign leaning against our front porch.
I pressed the pen to the paper. The ink bled into the page, dark and permanent.
"Welcome to the family, Mrs. Blackwood," Julian said, his voice dropping an octave as he stood up. He didn't reach out to shake my hand. Instead, he checked his platinum watch. "My stylist is waiting in the next room. You have ninety minutes to look like you’re head-over-heels in love with me."
I watched him walk toward the bar, his movements graceful and predatory. I had just signed a contract with the devil, and the terrifying part wasn't that he was cold.
It was that for a split second, when our eyes met, I wanted the lie to be real.
