Don't Escape, My Contract Bride

Chapter 4 The Contract

No matter how much Raine screamed or protested, she was eventually hoisted over someone's shoulder and tossed into a suite like a sack of flour.

"Let me out!"

She pounded on the door, kicked it, and shouted until her voice cracked, but no one outside responded.

The memory of the bloodbath she'd just witnessed flashed in her mind, making her stomach churn.

'He is even more terrifying than Malcolm,' she thought, her pulse racing.

Before she could think of what to do next, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Raine froze. Her mind went blank, panic clouding her thoughts.

The door creaked open, and without thinking, she darted into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

The footsteps followed her, stopping just outside the bedroom door.

"Sweetie." Damien's voice drawled from the other side.

"Our last game wasn't over. Since when did we start playing hide-and-seek?"

Raine swallowed hard, forcing herself to sound calm.

"Sir, I didn't mean to offend you earlier," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm truly sorry for what happened. Please... just let me leave."

However, the lock gave way effortlessly, and Damien's tall figure filled the doorway.

"You're quite forgetful, aren't you?" he said as he stepped inside, his deep voice tinged with amusement. "I just saved your life back there. And instead of thanking me, you lock me out and act like I'm the bad guy?"

He c****d his head slightly, his sharp gaze pinning her in place. "Unless, of course, you've got something to hide."

As he spoke, he sauntered into the room and settled onto the couch, lighting a cigarette. Smoke curled around his chiseled features as he leaned back, studying her through narrowed eyes.

"I..." Raine faltered, unsure of how to respond.

Before she could come up with an excuse, one of Damien's men entered the room, bowing slightly before leaning down to whisper in his ear. Then, the man handed Damien a phone.

"Sir, we've obtained a photo of the spy. It's only a shot from the back."

Damien glanced at the screen, where a figure with a striking resemblance to Raine—down to her hair color and build—was displayed. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

Tossing the phone aside, he tilted his head toward Raine. "Care to explain what your connection to Malcolm Drake is?"

The word spy sent a jolt through Raine's already frayed nerves. She realized he'd misunderstood her identity, and given what she'd seen of Malcolm's ruthlessness, Damien might just decide to shoot her on the spot.

Frantically, she blurted out, "I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not a spy. Victor Barnes sold me to Malcolm Drake. You can check if you don't believe me!"

Damien's sharp eyes studied her intently as he flicked ash from his cigarette. "And how do you plan to prove that?"

'Prove it? How am I supposed to prove something like that?' Raine thought bitterly, her lips pressing into a tight line.

"If I were your enemy, I could've killed you earlier," she said, lifting her chin defiantly. "But I didn't."

Her voice wavered for only a moment before she steadied it. "If you're still suspicious, you can just let me go. Send me away, and I promise you'll never see me again. I'd even be grateful."

'Please,' she thought desperately. 'I'm just an ordinary woman. How did I end up in this mess?'

Damien suddenly rose from the couch, his towering presence sending a chill down her spine.

'Is this it? Am I going to die here? If I do, no one will even remember me,' she thought as her vision blurred with tears.

Her gaze lifted to meet Damien's as he stepped closer.

His calloused hand cupped her cheek, his fingers lifting her chin gently.

For a fleeting second, she thought she saw something soft in his eyes and something almost tender. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

He smirked down at her. "You had so much courage earlier. Is this really enough to scare you?"

"You're going to kill me," Raine said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien tilted his head, a spark of amusement flashing in his dark eyes. "Or," he said, his voice low and smooth, "I could give you a better option."

He returned to the couch, gesturing lazily for something.

Raine looked at him, puzzled.

One of his men stepped forward, placing a document in her hands.

She hesitated, her brows furrowing as she unfolded the papers.

"A... marriage contract?" she stammered, staring at the words in disbelief.

"What's this supposed to mean?" she demanded, her wide eyes snapping to Damien.

"Exactly what it says," he replied with an almost bored tone, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Sign it. Betray whoever you're working for, and bring me every scrap of information you can about your former employer. In return, I'll play along with your little act as my adoring wife, and you'll help me expose every rat in my operation."

"Raine skimmed the contract, her frown deepening. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

A year-long contract? With him? Pretending to be his wife?"

"The contract lasts one year," Damien continued. "We both get what we want. When it's over, I'll give you anything you ask for money, or one favor. Your choice."

Raine's hands clenched around the papers, her mind racing. 'I'm not some spy! This has nothing to do with me!'

Her chest tightened. 'And I already have someone I care about. How could I...'

Damien must have mistaken her hesitation for a moral dilemma. "Don't forget your current situation," he said, his voice sharp. "You don't have a choice."

And he was right.

If she refused, death or worse likely awaited her. Malcolm wouldn't hesitate to take revenge, and Victor's house of horrors was still out there.

If she agreed, there might still be a chance to escape... and maybe, just maybe, she'd walk away a year later with enough money to rebuild her life.

"Fine," Raine said through gritted teeth. "I'll sign."

Damien's satisfied smirk widened as she scribbled her name on the dotted line. Taking the contract, he stood to leave but paused at the door.

"Thank you for cooperating, brave little kitten," he said, his tone laced with mockery. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he added, "Oh, and one more thing. Don't actually fall in love with me. It's just an act, after all."

Raine rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Trust me. That'll never happen."

Damien chuckled softly, unfazed.

"Don't be so sure. Three hundred and sixty-five days is plenty of time to fall in love with me."