Married by deception

THE CONTRACT

Elena stared at the message until the screen of her phone dimmed.

She tapped it awake again.

The words were still there.

You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

Ask him what happened the first time he saw you.

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

Who was sending these messages?

And what exactly did they mean by the first time Damian had seen her?

She replayed their conversation in her head.

I've seen you.

I don't consider you a stranger.

I know who you are.

Every answer he'd given suddenly felt different.

Elena looked through the elevator's glass wall as it descended toward the lobby.

Maybe Damian had simply researched her before the marriage.

That would make sense.

They were merging two powerful families, after all. Of course he would know about her.

But the photograph.

That was different.

She had seen the way he looked at it.

Like it wasn't just a photograph.

Like it was a memory.

The elevator doors opened.

Elena stepped into the lobby and walked toward the entrance.

"Miss Sterling."

She stopped.

Marcus Reed stood several feet away.

"Mr. Blackwood asked me to give you this."

He held out a black folder.

Elena looked at it suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"The revised marriage agreement."

She took it.

"I thought the lawyers were preparing it."

"They are."

"Then what's this?"

"Mr. Blackwood made some changes."

Of course he did.

Elena opened the folder.

The first page looked familiar. The one-year condition was still there.

Public appearances.

Confidentiality.

Separate finances.

Freedom to maintain their careers.

Then she reached the additional clauses.

Her eyes narrowed.

"There are new conditions."

Marcus nodded.

"Mr. Blackwood thought they were necessary."

Elena closed the folder.

"Of course he did."

She turned toward the exit.

"Tell him I'll review it."

"Miss Sterling."

She stopped.

Marcus hesitated.

"He also asked me to tell you something."

"What?"

"He said you shouldn't believe everything you read."

Elena slowly turned around.

Her stomach tightened.

"Did he say anything else?"

Marcus shook his head.

"No."

She stared at him for a moment before leaving.

Outside, the afternoon sun was already fading behind the buildings.

Elena got into her car and placed the folder beside her.

She didn't open it again until she reached home.

Her bedroom door closed behind her.

She sat on the edge of her bed and opened the folder.

Clause after clause.

She read everything carefully.

Then she reached the final page.

There was a handwritten note.

Not from a lawyer.

From Damian.

Read everything before you sign.

Elena frowned.

Underneath it was another sentence.

And if you have questions, ask me directly.

She almost laughed.

"You're the one who refuses to answer questions."

She grabbed her phone.

She had Damian's number now.

For a few seconds, she considered calling him.

Then she typed.

Elena: We need to talk.

His reply came almost immediately.

Damian: I know.

She stared at the screen.

Elena: How?

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Damian: Because I know you.

Elena's expression hardened.

Elena: That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out.

This time, there was no immediate reply.

She waited.

A minute.

Two.

Then her phone rang.

Damian.

She answered.

"How do you know me?"

There was silence on the other end.

"Hello?"

"I heard you."

"Then answer me."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Speaking like everything is a business negotiation."

A quiet breath came through the phone.

"Elena, if you have a question, ask it."

She looked down at the photograph she had secretly taken from the document earlier.

"The first time you saw me."

Silence.

Her heart beat faster.

"Who told you about that?"

"No one."

"Then how do you know?"

Another pause.

"I remember."

"Remember what?"

"The first time I saw you."

Elena sat upright.

"And?"

"I don't think we should discuss this over the phone."

"Why?"

"Because there are things you deserve to hear in person."

She frowned.

"Fine. When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"Elena."

"You're the one who said I should ask you directly."

"Tomorrow."

"You're avoiding me."

"Tomorrow," he repeated.

Then the call ended.

Elena stared at the screen.

"Arrogant jerk."

But despite herself, she was curious.

Very curious.

The following morning, Elena arrived at Blackwood Corporation shortly after nine.

This time, she didn't wait for Marcus.

She walked straight toward the private elevator.

The receptionist looked surprised.

"Miss Sterling, Mr. Blackwood is in a meeting."

"I'll wait."

"His meeting could take—"

"I'll wait."

She walked into the executive lounge.

Twenty minutes later, the boardroom doors opened.

Damian stepped out with several executives.

His eyes found Elena immediately.

Something unreadable passed through his expression.

He said something quietly to one of the men beside him before walking toward her.

"You're early."

"I'm beginning to think you only know how to say three things."

His eyebrow lifted.

"Which three?"

"You're early. Sit down. And that's not your concern."

One of the executives tried not to smile.

Damian noticed.

"Everyone out."

The executives immediately left.

The doors closed.

Elena stood.

"I want answers."

Damian loosened his cufflinks as he walked toward his office.

"About?"

"You know exactly what."

He opened his office door.

"Come in."

She followed.

Damian went behind his desk while Elena remained standing.

"You said you remembered the first time you saw me."

"I did."

"When?"

"Six years ago."

Elena's eyes widened.

"Six years?"

"Yes."

"I was sixteen."

"I know."

She immediately became more guarded.

"What were you doing there?"

"Your father hosted a charity event."

Elena searched her memory.

She remembered the event vaguely.

"It was my mother's foundation."

"Yes."

"And you were there?"

"My grandfather brought me."

She looked at him carefully.

"Why don't I remember you?"

"Because you weren't paying attention to me."

There was something almost amused in his voice.

"Why would I have been?"

"You wouldn't."

She crossed her arms.

"Then why do you remember me?"

Damian's expression became serious.

"You were arguing with someone."

Elena blinked.

"Who?"

"I don't remember his name."

"What were we arguing about?"

"You had just caught him taking credit for something you had done."

Elena's mouth parted slightly.

She remembered.

A young employee had claimed responsibility for a charity project she'd helped organize. She had confronted him in front of several people.

She'd forgotten about it years ago.

Damian hadn't.

"You remember that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I noticed you."

The answer was simple.

Too simple.

Elena looked away.

"And you never spoke to me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have a reason to."

"Until now?"

Damian's eyes met hers.

"Until now."

The room suddenly felt quieter.

Elena cleared her throat.

"That's not enough."

"I know."

"Then tell me the rest."

"Not yet."

She stared at him.

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

He picked up the contract.

"Now, the agreement."

Elena exhaled.

"Fine."

She sat opposite him.

Damian placed the contract between them.

"I made one change."

"Which is?"

"The living arrangement."

Elena's eyes narrowed.

"We discussed this."

"You said you wouldn't move into my house."

"Correct."

"I changed my mind."

"You can't just change the rules."

"I can propose a different arrangement."

"What's different about it?"

"You'll have your own floor."

She blinked.

"My own floor?"

"Your bedroom, dressing room, office and sitting room."

"And you?"

"The top floor."

"So we'll barely see each other."

"That depends on you."

She ignored the comment.

"And I can come and go whenever I want?"

"Yes."

"Without asking permission?"

"You're my wife, Elena. Not my employee."

She looked at him suspiciously.

"That's surprisingly reasonable."

"I can be reasonable."

"Sometimes."

Damian leaned back.

"Do you want the agreement or not?"

She picked up the pen.

"Fine."

She began signing.

Then she stopped.

One clause caught her attention.

Neither party may intentionally enter another romantic relationship during the twelve-month marriage period.

She looked up.

"What's this?"

Damian's expression didn't change.

"It's standard."

"It wasn't in the first version."

"It was added."

"By you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we're supposed to convince people this marriage is real."

She studied him.

"That isn't necessary."

"It is if we want people to believe us."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we have a problem."

She leaned back.

"Are you telling me who I can date?"

"No."

"It sounds like it."

"I'm saying neither of us should create unnecessary complications."

Elena tapped the contract.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"The rule applies to you too."

"Of course."

She searched his face.

"You're not planning to see anyone else?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Elena frowned.

"Why?"

Damian held her gaze.

"Because I won't need to."

Something about the way he said it made her uncomfortable.

She looked down and signed the page.

"There."

She pushed the contract toward him.

Damian picked up the pen.

His signature appeared beneath hers.

Just like that.

It was official.

Elena Sterling was going to become Elena Blackwood.

For one year.

She stood.

"I hope you understand something."

Damian looked up.

"This doesn't mean I belong to you."

His expression softened by the smallest degree.

"I know."

"And I won't let you control my life."

"I know."

"And if you ever lie to me about something important—"

"You'll leave."

She stopped.

He had finished the sentence for her.

"Yes."

Damian placed the pen down.

"I understand."

Elena picked up her handbag.

She reached the door.

"Elena."

She turned.

Damian's eyes were fixed on her.

"This marriage may have started as a contract."

He paused.

"But don't assume that's all it will ever be."

Her heart skipped.

She forced a smile.

"Don't worry, Mr. Blackwood. I'll remember that."

She left.

Damian waited until the door closed.

Only then did his expression change.

He looked down at the contract.

Their signatures sat beside each other.

For everyone else, it was a business agreement.

A temporary marriage.

A means to secure an inheritance.

But Damian knew something Elena didn't.

He had spent six years remembering the girl who had stood fearlessly in a crowded room and refused to let someone take credit for her work.

Six years later, she was walking into his life again.

Only this time, she wasn't walking away after a few minutes.

She was his wife.

Even if only on paper.

For now.