Her Terms
823 Words
The pen shook between us.
Damian’s hand was hot over mine. His grey eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t beg. Just waited. Like he always did when he wanted me to break.
“Sign it yourself,” he’d said. _Sign that you’ll stay. And I’ll burn the whole contract._
Clause 4.2 screamed in my head: _must produce an heir in 6 months_.
Clause 8.3 chained me: _only mutual consent_.
$50M penalty if I ran.
He thought love meant burning his empire for me.
I thought love meant not being owned.
I clicked the pen once. Twice.
Then I turned the contract toward me. Flipped to the last page. Blank line under _Mrs. Ava Black - Signature_.
Damian’s breath caught. He thought I’d sign “stay forever”.
I signed.
But not where he expected.
I signed on the margin. In big, messy letters. Then slid the contract back.
Damian looked down. Read it.
_Addendum 2, written by Ava Black: I stay for 6 months. Voluntarily. But Clause 4.2 is void. No heir required. No touching unless I say yes. If Damian breaks these terms, I walk. No $50M penalty. No consent needed from him. This contract ends when I say it does. Not Isabella. Not you. Me._
His jaw locked. “You can’t amend a Black Corp contract.”
“I just did.” I met his eyes. “You wanted my choice, Damian. Here it is. I choose you. But not as your womb. As your wife.”
For 5 seconds, silence.
Then he laughed. Low. Disbelieving. “You think you can cage me with terms?”
“I think,” I said, stepping closer, “you caged yourself the second you said ‘you’re mine’. Now I’m returning the favor.”
“You’re mine for 6 months,” he repeated. Like a prayer. Like a threat.
“And you’re mine for 6 months,” I whispered back. Took the pen from his hand. Tossed it. “No more rules. No more claiming me in boardrooms unless I want it. No more ‘punishment’. Touch me when I ask. Kiss me when I let you.”
His hands fisted at his sides. Possessive CEO losing control. And I saw it — the panic under the mask.
“You’ll get bored,” he said. Voice rough. “Without the rules. Without me chasing.”
“Then give me a reason not to be bored,” I challenged. “Not as Mr. Black. As Damian.”
His phone buzzed again. Isabella.
He ignored it. Eyes never left mine. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Black.”
“Mrs. Black,” I corrected, “has conditions.”
He moved. Not to touch. Just one step. Close enough that I felt his heat. “And if I agree?”
“Then maybe,” I traced one finger over his tie, didn’t pull, just touched, “I won’t run next time you put your hand under the table.”
Damian’s eyes flared. Dark. Hungry. The man under the CEO.
“Terms accepted,” he said finally. Voice like gravel. “Clause 4.2 void. No forced touching. You walk when you want.”
He grabbed a pen. Signed under my messy addendum. Sharp, slanted signature. Damian Black.
Then he looked up. “But I have one term too.”
My heart stopped.
“If you ever leave,” he said, thumb brushing my knuckles, “tell me to my face. Don’t run. Don’t hide. Don’t let Isabella be the one to tell me you’re gone.”
I nodded. Once.
“Deal.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since Chapter 1. Then did what I didn’t expect.
He kissed my forehead. Soft. Not claiming. Promising.
“You win this round, Ava.” He pulled back. “But I’m still Damian Black. And I don’t lose twice.”
The study door burst open.
Isabella stood there. Red suit. Lawyers behind her. Phone in hand, recording.
“Perfect timing,” she purred. “We have a board vote in 1 hour. To remove Damian for breach of Clause 4.2. Unless… he presents an heir.”
Her eyes dropped to my stomach. Then back to my face.
“6 months ends today, Damian. Not tomorrow. Today.”
Damian stepped in front of me. Broad shoulders. Wall of steel.
“No heir,” he said flatly. “Contract amended. Shares stay with me.”
Isabella smiled. “Read the fine print, husband. Amendments require board approval.”
She held up her phone. On screen: security footage from last night. Me on his lap. His hand under my dress.
“Public indecency,” she said sweetly. “Grounds for immediate removal. Unless his wife is pregnant.”
All eyes turned to me.
Damian’s hand found mine behind his back. Squeezed. Once. _I won’t let her touch you._
But the board was waiting. The clock was ticking.
And Isabella held the evidence.
- Writer
