Signed To Seduce

BLACK FOLDER

Camille sat stiffly on the edge of the leather sofa, her hands knotted together in her lap. The black folder between them looked like a trap she had already stepped into.

Xavier opened it with ease, sliding a page toward her. “This outlines your role,” he said smoothly. “Events, dinners, charity galas. You’ll be at my side—silent unless spoken to. Presentable. Devoted. That’s what people expect of a wife.”

Her throat felt dry. “So… I’m supposed to just stand there and smile?”

He tilted his head, amused. “Yes. And look the part.” His eyes flicked down her modest blouse, his gaze sharp enough to cut. “Your current wardrobe won’t do. My tailor will handle it. You’ll dress in what I choose—elegant, polished. Nothing timid, nothing cheap.”

Camille’s chest tightened. “I… I don’t need you to buy me clothes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You do,” he said simply. “If you’re going to convince anyone you belong at my side.”

Her stomach turned, but she nodded.

“And in return,” Xavier continued, leaning back casually, “your debts vanish. Your mother’s medical bills are handled. You’ll live here, under my roof. Comfortable. Safe.”

Safe. The word almost sounded like a promise, but his tone made it clear it was a condition.

Camille’s fingers trembled as she touched the contract. “H-how long…?”

“One year.” His voice softened, almost reassuring. “And then, you walk away. With more than you came with.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust the steadiness in his voice, but her heart pounded too hard, too fast.

Then he leaned forward, closing the space between them. His hand brushed lightly against hers on the table, deliberate. Her breath caught in her throat.

“And one more thing,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to hers. “When the cameras are on, you’ll smile like you love me. You’ll touch me like you can’t resist me. And when people expect a kiss—” his gaze dropped to her mouth, his voice lowering, “—you’ll give them one.”

Camille’s entire body went rigid. She wanted to pull back, but she couldn’t move. Her lips parted soundlessly, fear and confusion tangling in her chest.

He stopped just short of her mouth, his smirk sharp as a blade. “Don’t look so terrified, Camille. I’m not asking you to want me.” A pause. “I’m just asking you to pretend.”

She dropped her eyes immediately, her voice breaking. “I-I can do that.”

Xavier leaned back, satisfied. “Good girl. Now leave, and you move in this evening. I have a gala tomorrow night, I don't need to tell you what to do. Pack all your things, my men will come pick you at 8." She nods and quietly leaves the penthouse. What the f**k has she gotten herself into? She removes her phone from her bag and calls Ava.

"Ava, can you come over?" she asks quietly almost sounding scared.

"Sure babe. I'll be there in an hour." Ava says on the other end.

Camille hangs up and takes a cab home. As she gets home, she immediately starts packing her things. She begins to have second thoughts about the whole arrangement. Xavier Hale is a cold and dark man. What if he hurts her, or he doesn't keep to his promise?

Ava arrived in an hour just as promised. She helps Camille pack all her stuff.

"You're doing this for your mother babe." she says, stating a clear fact as he folds some clothes.

Ï know, but it all feels like a mess. I just wanted a job, not a whole relationship." Camille says.

"Hey", Ava says as she puts the clothes down, and pull her into a hug. "You're going to be just fine babe and remember this is for you not him. You're so brave my love." She holds her for a while rubbing slow circles on her back. Camille immediately gets the comfort and confidence she needed. By 6 o'clock, they were done packing all the things she needed. Ava stayed with her a while before Xavier's men came to pick her up. They hugged liked as if it was goodbye forever when they both know they'll see each other in a few days. Camille hands over the apartment keys to Ava and follows Xavier's men out the door. She felt like she was walking into trouble.