Bought by the Billionaire Who Hated Love

The rain was heavy that evening, soaking through my thin blouse as I stood outside Blackwood Towers. I looked up at the tall glass building, its lights glowing like stars trapped inside steel walls. Somewhere in there was Damian Blackwood. Billionaire. CEO. The man everyone feared. And the man who now held my future in his hands. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I did not need to check it to know who it was. The hospital had been calling all day. Your mother’s condition is getting worse. I swallowed hard and walked inside. The lobby smelled of wealth and power. Marble floors. Gold lined walls. A quiet that made every footstep echo. People in sharp suits passed by, their eyes briefly scanning me before moving on. I did not belong here. My shoes were worn. My bag held nothing but documents and desperation. At the reception desk, a woman with perfect makeup smiled politely. “I am here to see Mr Blackwood.” She checked her screen. “Name?” “Aria Collins.” Her fingers paused. Then she nodded. “Top floor. Private elevator.” My heart began to race. The elevator ride felt endless. With every floor, my nerves tightened. I replayed the words from the email in my mind. One year marriage contract. Financial compensation provided. Emotional involvement prohibited. It sounded unreal. But the money they offered could save my mother. The doors opened silently. I stepped into a quiet hallway and was guided into a large office with walls made entirely of glass. The city stretched beneath us, glowing in the fading light of sunset. He stood by the window, his back to me. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark suit. Damian Blackwood. He turned slowly. His eyes met mine, cold and unreadable. “You are late.” His voice was deep and controlled. “I am sorry,” I said softly. He walked toward his desk and picked up a file. “Aria Collins. Twenty six. Graduate. Part time waitress. No criminal record. Mother critically ill.” He looked up. “You are here because you are desperate.” The words stung, but I nodded. “Yes.” He placed the file down and gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.” I obeyed. He slid a document toward me. “The contract.” My hands trembled as I picked it up. One year marriage. Public appearances required. Private emotions forbidden. Monthly allowance. Full medical coverage for my mother. Luxury apartment provided. My chest tightened. This was not a fairy tale. This was a business transaction. “You will move in tonight,” Damian said. “You will attend events with me. You will act like my wife in public.” I looked up. “And in private?” He stared at me for a moment. “In private, we stay out of each other’s way.” My lips parted. “No intimacy?” His jaw tightened. “That depends on necessity. But do not mistake this for romance. I do not love. I do not pretend. And I do not tolerate emotional attachment.” His honesty was brutal. I swallowed. “And why me?” He leaned back in his chair. “I need a wife. You need money. Simple.” I stared at the contract again. This man was offering to buy my life for one year. My phone vibrated in my bag. I pulled it out. Unknown number. I answered with shaking fingers. “Yes?” “Miss Collins,” a nurse said. “Your mother just lost consciousness. We need immediate payment to proceed with further treatment.” My breath left my body. “How much time do I have?” There was a pause. “Not much.” I ended the call and looked at Damian. My voice broke. “I will sign.” He slid a pen toward me. I did not hesitate. My signature looked strange on the paper, like it belonged to someone else. When I finished, he took the contract and stood. “Welcome to your new life, Mrs Blackwood.” The words echoed in my head. Mrs Blackwood. He walked past me toward the door. “Your driver is waiting.” I stood slowly. “What happens if I fall in love with you?” He stopped. He did not turn around. “That would be your mistake.” Then he left. I remained standing in the middle of the office, staring at the city below, realizing I had just sold my freedom to a man who did not believe in love. And somehow, I already knew this marriage would destroy me before it saved me.