Married by Midnight

CHAPTER THREE - The Midnight Signature

The storm hadn't stopped. It only got louder, as if heaven himself tried to warn her.

Emma sat across from Damon Black at the long glass table her hands shaking around the silver pen. The clock over his head was at 11:58 p.m. The sound of rain pounding on the windows counted down.

She didn't belong here. His penthouse was more like a fortress than a home. Every corner was gleaming with riches, power and danger. He never wanted anyone in his space.

And yet here she was, drowning in the cologne and power of his body.

"You have one minute," Damon said, his voice carrying through the storm like a blade. No hesitation. No warmth. Just command.

He stood by the window, with his back to her. He had thrown back his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Lightning flashed on his face, making him appear sharp and powerful.

Emma's throat tightened. "You have it make it sound like I have a choice."

"You don't." He turned to look at her. His eyes were dark grey, steel grey. You were right when you walked through my doors.

She'd like to argue, to say it wasn't fair, that no one should have to marry a man like him to save her father's company. But, she couldn't get the words out of her mouth. It trembled like the pen.

"Why me?" she whispered. Why this when all the women would kill to have your name?

Damon looked at the contract on the table - it was a single page, it was harsh. "Because you are the only one who will sign without reading the fine print."

The words got under her skin more than she'd thought. She felt a shiver go through her chest.

She was shaking, half shaking, half furious; you were enjoying this.

"I don't enjoy anything," he said. He leaned back. His eyes were on her. "I just finish what I start."

Emma tried to force air into her lungs. It's because of Dad. It's for the company. It's for everything he built.

The contract existed between them like a living thing. It could almost be heard whispering to her.

Her eyes followed the black ink to the top: MARRIAGE CONTRACT AGREEMENT Between: Damon Black and Emma Hale Effective Date: January 14, 11:59 p.m.

Her pulse hammered. "A one‑year marriage. Obedience clause." She swallowed hard. "You really use that word in there."

Damon's mouth twitched. You wanted your father to save his company. I'm giving you just what you asked for."

"No," she snapped, with anger bleeding through her fear. "You're getting yourself a wife who can't tell you no."

The air thickened. Damon straightened up and walked closer. His shadow covered her. He didn't touch her, but he felt on her skin like hot water.

"Careful, Emma," he murmured. "You willingly registered to play with a devil." The horns are there so do not be amazed.

Lightning flashed behind him dividing the skyline.

The clock ticked louder.

11:59 p.m.

Emma looked at the signature line below. Her name was waiting there, blank and incomplete, shivering. Her whole life summed up in an instant of ink.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice raw. You don't even need to be with my family.

Damon's expression never changed. "Need is a weak man's excuse. I take what I want."

"But what do you want?"

A silence.

For a second something passed through his eyes, she couldn't read it. Pain? Regret? Then it was gone again.

"Sign the paper, Emma."

Her fingers tightened their grip on the pen. You're not even going to act like this is not about control?

Everything is about control. He leaned down slightly. "Those who have it survive. Those who do not - enter contracts they cannot get out of.

Her breath caught. "You're not saving me. You're trapping me."

He smiled faintly. "Then stop me."

For a moment the pen nearly fell from her hand. She looked at the ink, the wavering letters, the man standing over her like the judgment itself.

The voice inside her said even now you can come away. But then your father loses it all. The company. The legacy. The home.

Thunder roared outside.

Her choice became no choice anymore.

Emma pressed the pen to paper. Her signature came out jagged and trembling as a heartbeat. The sound of the nib scratching across the page was heard throughout the room louder than thunder.

When it was done she put the pen down and said, "There." You win."

Damon's jaw flexed. He grabbed the paper without even looking at her. "This isn't a game I play to win."

"Then what do you play for?"

He looked up. His eyes were cold. It is meant to ensure that I never lose again.

He put the paper in a black folder, and clicked it shut. The movement was accurate and ruthless. Then he rolled back his cuffs like striking a pact with the devil himself.

Emma was sitting frozen staring at the contract that just wrote a new life for her.

The storm outside had abated, but inside, she felt something worse - silence. A kind after a battle when all the living creatures were dead.

Damon headed back for the window, his hands in his pockets. The skyline was reflected in the glass behind him - two silhouettes; one powerful, one broken.

I'll be moving into his penthouse tomorrow, he said. He was quoted as saying: "I'll have a car sent for you at eight."

Her head snapped up. "Tomorrow? You can't just—"

Besides, he interjected easily, "I can." "And I am."

You said this marriage is supposed to last a year. That does not mean that you have a right to-

"Everything that happens from now on," he said flatly, "is my right."

Emma stood, scaring her chair back with a sharp sound. You can control a company, Mr. Black. You can't control me."

Damon turned. Slowly. Like a man that is too tranquil for his own rage.

He moved towards her, bridging the gap until they were separated by inches only. His voice dropped, a steel-edged whisper.

"I just bought all the debts your father owed," he said. That is to say till this contract expires - you're not mine by affection Emma. You're mine by law."

Her pulse stuttered. "You're unbelievable."

He smiled faintly. "You'll find I'm worse than that."

The elevator made a soft ding behind her. No movement of either was seen for a heartbeat. Just rain, breath and the electricity between them.

Emma swallowed the tears that were burning her throat. "You actually believe that you can buy loyalty with money? Or love?"

He said simply that he didn't believe in love. "It's a currency that is always depleted."

He moved his head away, but Emma saw a slight quiver of his hand before he put it away in his pocket.

Then he said, without moving his gaze away from her, "We're finished here."

Emma didn't reply. She picked up her coat, her bag and her broken pride.

As she passed him, she caught the faintest scent of him - clean, expensive and cold.

At the door, she hesitated.

"You think you can break me," she said quietly. "But there's something you'll find, I don't break easily."

His response was a single line, without any qualification: "Good. I'd hate to be bored."

She walked out before he could see the tears.

Outdoors the rain struck against her face like needles.

The city lights were blurred through the storm when she reached for the ground floor button of the waiting elevator with shaking fingers.

As the doors shut, she looked up - and saw her reflection in the steel mirrors. For a second, Damon's reflection appeared behind her, not moving at all, watching.

But when she turned, there was nobody in the room.

The contract was there, out in the open, behind its folder.

And the clock struck midnight, and all at once.