..ELARA'SPOV
1692 Words
Sebastian stared at me, waiting for a response, like a masked man hadn't just been dragged out of his office screaming accusations.
"I'm sorry," I said slowly.
"Can we talk about what just happened?"
"No."
"But that man—"
"Is not your concern." His voice was cold, final.
"Do you want to hear my offer or not?"
Every instinct screamed at me to leave. To run from this office and never look back. Something was deeply wrong here.
"I'm listening," I heard myself say.
Sebastian's expression didn't change. He simply continued as if nothing had interrupted us.
"The terms are simple. One year as my legal wife. You live in my home. You attend social events with me when required. You present yourself as happily married in public."
"And in private?"
"In private, we're strangers. You'll have your own bedroom. Your own space. I won't touch you unless absolutely necessary for appearances."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I might put my hand on your back at a gala. I might kiss your cheek in front of guests. But nothing more. Your body is yours. I will never force you."
The words should have been reassuring. Instead, they felt ominous. Like he was promising not to do one terrible thing while leaving a thousand others open.
"What else?" I asked.
"You don't ask questions about my business. You don't investigate. You don't go poking around in places you're not allowed. What I do and who I meet is not your concern."
I thought about the masked man again. About his rage. His pain.
"And if I break these rules?"
"There are consequences." His pale eyes held mine.
"I suggest you not find out what they are."
My mouth went dry.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a warning."
Silence stretched between us. I should have stood up and left. Should have told him to find someone else for his twisted arrangement.
But I couldn't.
"What exactly do I get out of this?" I asked.
"I'll pay off every debt in your name. All three hundred seventy-two thousand dollars. You'll start with a completely clean slate. No creditors. No collectors. Nothing."
The relief that thought brought was almost painful.
"Additionally," Sebastian continued, "you'll receive a million-dollar settlement at the end of the year. Tax free. Deposited directly into an account in your name."
A million dollars. Enough to start over. To build a real life.
"And finally, I'll ensure you can return to school. Any university you choose. Full tuition paid. You can finish your degree."
Everything I'd lost. Everything I'd been fighting for. He was offering it all on a silver platter.
"Why?" I asked.
"Why me? You could have anyone. Why choose some desperate girl with nothing?"
"Because you have nothing," he said simply.
"Because you're desperate enough to say yes without asking too many questions. And because..." He paused, his eyes traveling over my face in a way that made my skin heat.
"You're exactly what I need."
There was something in the way he said it. Something that suggested this wasn't random at all.
"Have we met before?" I asked.
"No."
"Then how do you know so much about me? About my debts? About my situation?"
"I make it my business to know things about people I'm considering working with."
"This isn't work. This is marriage."
"This is a business arrangement that happens to involve marriage," he corrected.
"Don't confuse the two."
He pulled a document from his desk drawer and slid it across to me. It was thick, bound, official-looking.
"The contract," he said.
"Read it carefully. Everything we've discussed is outlined in detail."
I picked it up with shaking hands and started reading.
The language was formal, legal, but clear. Then I saw something that made my blood run cold.
"What's this?" I pointed to a paragraph near the end.
"If I breach the contract early, I forfeit not just the money, but... my identity?"
"If you try to leave before the year is up, you leave with nothing. And I retain legal rights to control how you're represented publicly. Your name, your image, your reputation. All mine to control."
"That's insane. You can't own a person's identity."
"I can when they sign a contract agreeing to it."
I stared at him, trying to understand.
"Why would you need that kind of control?"
"Insurance. To ensure you honor your commitment."
"Or to ensure I can't expose whatever it is you're hiding."
Something flickered in his eyes. Approval, maybe. Like he was pleased I'd figured that out.
"Sign the contract or don't," he said.
"But decide now. This offer expires in ten minutes."
I looked down at the contract again. At the promise of freedom from debt. At the million dollars. At the chance to finish school and build a real life.
All I had to do was sell myself to a dangerous man for one year.
"I need a pen," I whispered.
Sebastian's expression didn't change, but I could have sworn I saw satisfaction flash across his face. He handed me an expensive fountain pen.
My hand shook as I signed my name on the line. Elara Quinn. The name felt foreign suddenly, like it belonged to someone else.
Maybe it did now.
Sebastian took the contract and added his own signature with swift, confident strokes. Then he stood and extended his hand.
"Welcome to the family, Miss Quinn."
I shook his hand. His grip was firm, warm, and somehow possessive.
"When do we..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Three days. That will give you time to settle affairs and gather whatever belongings you have. The ceremony will be private. Just us, a judge, and two witnesses. Nothing elaborate."
"My friends—"
"No friends. No guests. This is a private business arrangement, remember?"
"Right." My voice sounded hollow.
"My driver will collect you in three days at nine AM. Be ready."
He was dismissing me. Our meeting was over.
I stood on shaky legs and walked toward the door.
"Miss Quinn."
I turned back.
Sebastian was watching me with those unsettling pale eyes.
"Don't be late."
******
Three days later, I stood in a courthouse wearing a simple white dress I'd bought from a discount store. It was the only thing I owned that seemed appropriate for a wedding, even a fake one.
Sebastian arrived exactly on time, wearing another expensive suit. He looked at the dress, at my attempt to look bridal, and something unreadable crossed his face.
The ceremony took fifteen minutes.
A judge read words about love and commitment. Two of Sebastian's employees served as witnesses, their faces blank and professional.
When the judge said I could kiss the bride, Sebastian leaned in and pressed his lips to my cheek. Brief, cold, impersonal.
"Congratulations," the judge said without enthusiasm.
We signed papers. Made it legal. Binding.
I was Mrs. Sebastian Crowe now.
The driver was waiting outside. Sebastian opened the door for me, his hand barely touching my back as he guided me inside.
We drove in silence. Away from the city.
The further we went, the more isolated it became. Fewer houses. More trees. The ocean appearing and disappearing between cliffs.
Finally, we turned onto a private road. It wound up a hillside for what felt like forever.
Then I saw it.
Sebastian's mansion.
It was like something from a magazine, but colder. Glass and steel. It perched on the edge of a cliff, waves crashing far below.
Beautiful but terrifying.
The gates opened automatically as we approached. Armed guards stood at attention as we passed.
"How many guards do you have?" I asked.
"Enough."
The car stopped in front of the main entrance. Sebastian got out and came around to my door, opening it.
I stepped out and stared up at the massive structure that was now my home.
"Welcome," Sebastian said.
A woman appeared in the doorway. Older, stern-looking, wearing a housekeeper's uniform.
"Mrs. Chen will show you to your room," Sebastian said. "She'll explain the household rules."
"You're not coming?"
"I have work to do." He turned and walked away, disappearing into the house without another word.
Mrs. Chen approached me.
"This way, Mrs. Crowe."
Mrs. Crowe. The name felt wrong.
I followed her inside.
The interior was just as cold as the exterior. Everything glass and steel and sharp edges. Modern art on the walls. Furniture that looked expensive but uncomfortable.
We walked down hallways, turned corners, climbed stairs. The house seemed to go on forever.
Finally, Mrs. Chen stopped at a door and opened it.
"Your bedroom," she said.
I stepped inside. It was huge, elegantly furnished, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. A massive bed dominated the center. There was a sitting area, a desk, a door leading to what I assumed was a bathroom.
Everything was perfect. And completely impersonal. Like a luxury hotel room.
"Mr. Crowe's bedroom is in the east wing," Mrs. Chen said.
"You're not to go there without permission."
"Okay."
"The basement is also off-limits. As is Mr. Crowe's private office on the ground floor. The security room. And the garage."
The list of forbidden places was growing longer.
"You're free to use the library, the art studio, the pool, the gardens. But you're not to leave the property without Mr. Crowe's permission and a security escort."
"I'm a prisoner then."
Mrs. Chen's expression didn't change.
"You're Mr. Crowe's wife. These rules are for your protection."
"Protection from what?"
She didn't answer.
"Dinner is served at seven. Mr. Crowe expects you to join him when he's home. Dress appropriately."
Then she left, closing the door behind her.
I stood alone in my beautiful prison, staring out at the ocean.
What had I done?
I'd signed my life away to a man I didn't know. A man who had guards and forbidden rooms and secrets he'd kill to protect.
Behind me, the door to my room was closed but not locked.
I could leave. Right now. Just walk out and never come back.
But where would I go?
I had nothing. No one. Nowhere.
I was trapped.
And Sebastian Crowe knew it.
- Writer
