THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORBIDDEN BRIDE

The first time I saw Damien Blackwood, I was holding a knife. Not because I wanted to kill him. Although, after what happened that night, I briefly considered it. I stood outside the private dining room of the Blackwood Hotel, staring at the gold-plated doors while my fingers tightened around the handle of the knife hidden inside my handbag. My father's voice echoed in my head. Whatever happens, Elena, don't anger him. That was easier said than done. Damien Blackwood was the reason my family was drowning in debt. The reason my father's company was gone. The reason creditors had been calling our house every morning for the past three months. And tonight, I was supposed to beg him for mercy. I took a shaky breath and pushed open the door. The room was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, its lights glittering beneath the darkness like millions of stars. A long black table occupied the center of the room, but only one person sat there. A man. His back was turned toward me. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his broad shoulders relaxed as he stared through the window with a glass of whiskey in his hand. I swallowed. "Mr Blackwood?" He didn't answer. I stepped farther into the room. "My name is Elena Hart. Your assistant asked me to come." Nothing. My irritation began placing my nervousness. I had spent the entire afternoon convincing myself not to be intimidated by this man. Apparently, he hadn't received the memo. "Look,"I said,"I don't have all night." The man slowly turned. And for one terrible second, I forgot how to breathe. Damien Blackwood was younger than I'd expected. Thirty-one, according to everything I'd read. Tall. Dark-haired. Sharp jaw. Cold gray eyes that seemed to look straight through me. He didn't smile. He didn't even acknowledge my greeting. His gaze traveled over me slowly before settling on my face. "You came alone." It wasn't a question. "Yes." "Good." My brows pulled together. "Good?" He placed his glass on the table. "Sit." I hated the command in his voice. But I sat. He took the chair opposite me. For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then he slid a folder across the table. I looked at it. "What is this?" "Your father's debt." My stomach dropped. I opened the folder. Numbers. Millions of them. My father's entire company was buried beneath loans, unpaid contracts, legal fees, and interest. I already knew the situation was bad. I hadn't realized it was this bad. "You said you could help us." "I can." Hope flickered inside me. "How?" Damien leaned back. "By paying every debt your father owes." I stared at him. "You'd do that?" "Yes." "Why?" His expression didn't change. "Because I want something in return." Of course. Nothing involving Damien Blackwood came without a price. "What?" He looked directly into my eyes. "Marry me." The room went silent. I actually laughed. It wasn't because it was funny. It was because my brain refused to process what I'd just heard. "I'm sorry?" "You heard me." "You want me to marry you?" "For one year." I pushed the folder away. "You've lost your mind." "No." He reached into his jacket and placed another document on the table. "A marriage contract." I stared at it. "You brought a contract?" "I don't make important decisions without preparation." "Apparently you make insane decisions with excellent preparation." For the first time, something almost resembling amusement flickered in his eyes. It disappeared quickly. "You have forty-eight hours." I stood. "No." He didn't move. "Think carefully." "I already have." "Your father's creditors will begin legal proceedings tomorrow morning.'' My body went still. Damien continued calmly. ''Your family home will be seized within two weeks." My heart pounded. "You can't know that.'' "I know everything concerning your family's finances." I hated how easily he said it. "And if I refuse?" "Then your family loses everything.'' I stared at him. He had me. He knew it. And somehow, that made me hate him even more. "You planned this.'' His eyes narrowed slightly. "What?"' "This." I pointed between us. "You knew I would come. You knew my father couldn't pay. You knew I'd be desperate." Damien's jaw tightened. "I knew you'd do anything to protect your family.'' The words struck deeper than they should have. I grabbed my handbag. "I'm not marrying you." He didn't stop me. I walked toward the door. My hand had just touched the handle when his voice stopped me. "Ask your father why he never told you about my mother." I froze. Slowly, I turned around. "What does your mother have to do with my father?" Damien's expression became unreadable. "Ask him.'' ''Damien-'' ''Go home, Elena.'' There was something in his voice. Something dangerous. I left. The drive home felt like a blur. I barely noticed the city passing outside the car window. His words wouldn't leave my head. Ask your father about my mother. My father had never mentioned Damien's mother. Not once. When I entered our house, I found my father sitting alone in the living room. He looked exhausted. Older than he had that morning. His tie was loose, and an untouched cup of coffee sat beside him. His eyes lifted when he saw me. "Elena?" I dropped my handbag onto the sofa. "We need to talk." He immediately straightened. "What happened." "Damien Blackwood offered to pay all our debts." My father's face drained of color. I noticed. And suddenly, I knew. There was something he wasn't telling me. "He offered you money?" "Not exactly.'' I took a breath. "He offered me a deal." My father's hands began to tremble. "What deal?" I watched him carefully. "He wants me to marry him." The cup beside him slipped from his fingers. It shattered against the floor. "Dad?" He didn't answer. His face had gone completely white. "Why?" I whispered. He looked at me. And for the first time in my life, I saw fear in my father's eyes. Real fear. "What did Damien tell you?" I stepped closer. "He told me to ask you about his mother." My father stopped breathing. I felt a chill run down my spine. "Why would he say that?" "Elena..." His voice broke. "What happened to Damien's mother?" My father looked away. "Nothing." "Don't lie to me." "I'm not.'' "You are!'' My voice cracked. "You've been hiding something. He stood abruptly. "You don't understand.'' "Then explain it!'' He stared at me for several seconds. Then he whispered something that made my blood run cold. "Damien's mother didn't die in an accident.'' I stopped. "What?" My father's eyes filled with something that looked like regret. "She was murdered." The room seemed to tilt. ''Who killed her?" He didn't answer. "Dad.'' He closed his eyes. "I don't know.'' ''But Damien thinks you do.'' Silence. I stepped backward. "Does he think you killed her?" My father's silence was answer enough. I felt sick. "Did you?" His eyes snapped open. "No." The answer came instantly. Too instantly. "I swear to you, Elena, I didn't kill that woman." "Then why does he hate us?" My looked toward the window. "Because he believes your family destroyed his." Before I could ask another question, my phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. "Hello?" Nothing. Then a man's voice whispered through the phone. "Don't marry Damien Blackwood." My heart stopped. "Who is this?" '' You don't know what you're getting into.'' ''Who are you?'' The lined went dead. I stared at my phone. Then another message appeared. A photograph. My hands began to shake as I opened it. It was an old picture. My father stood beside a younger Damien Blackwood. And between them was a beautiful woman. Damien's mother. But that wasn't what terrified me. It was the date written beneath the photograph. The night before she died. I zoomed in. There was someone else standing behind them. Someone I recognized. Someone who was supposed to have nothing to do with Damien Blackwood. My blood ran cold. I looked at my father. "Dad..." He stared at the photograph. His face collapsed. "Where did you get that?" "I don't know." He took a step toward me. "Elena, listen to me carefully." "What?" "Whatever Damien tells you..." His voice trembled. "...don't believe him." My phone rang again. This time, the caller ID wasn't unknown. Damien Blackwood. I stared at the screen. My father grabbed my wrist. "Don't answer." The phone kept ringing. Once. Twice. Three times. Then a message appeared. Answer the phone, Elena. Another message followed. Because your father is lying to you. I looked at my father. He was crying. And that was when I realized something terrifying. My father wasn't afraid of Damien. He was afraid of what Damien was going to tell me. I answered the call. "Hello?" Damien's voice came through, low and cold. "Your father finally told you about my mother, didn't he?" I couldn't speak. He continued. "Good." A pause. "Now ask him who was holding the murder weapon.'' My eyes slowly moved to my father. He was staring at me. And then I noticed something in his hand. A small, old photograph. The exact same photograph Damien had just sent me. Expect my father was holding something else behind it. A bloodstained newspaper clipping. And across the top were five words that changed everything: HART HEIR WANTED FOR MURDER My knees nearly gave away. "Damien..." "Yes?" "Why do you want to marry me?" There was silence on the other end. Then Damien said one thing I never expected. "Because, Elena.." His voice dropped to a whisper. "...you're the daughter of the woman who killed my mother." The call ended. And my world shattered.