6: Signed In Blood
834 Words
Rain poured again that night — as if the sky itself knew what she was about to do.
Amara sat alone in her tiny apartment, the contract spread open across the table.
Every word burned. Every clause felt like a brand.
She’d read it a hundred times. Memorized every condition, every risk. But one line echoed in her mind louder than the storm outside:
“You’re a woman who’s tired of losing.”
Sebastian’s voice haunted her, low and precise, like he’d seen through every wall she’d built.
She pushed the papers away and stood up, pacing the narrow room.
She didn’t want his money. She didn’t want revenge. But she did want her clinic.
The patients. The children. The old women who called her anak and brought her fruit as payment.
If she walked away now, they’d lose everything.
And if she signed…
She’d lose herself.
⸻
A knock broke through the storm.
She froze. Who could it be at this hour?
When she opened the door, Sebastian Cruz stood there — a dark silhouette against the flickering hallway light, holding a black umbrella and a bottle of whiskey.
“Still thinking?” he asked, stepping inside before she could answer.
“You have no shame,” she muttered, folding her arms.
“None whatsoever.” He glanced at the contract on the table. “Have you decided?”
Her jaw tightened. “You make this sound so easy.”
“It is,” he said, pouring two glasses of whiskey. “You sign. I protect your clinic. We both get what we want.”
She stared at the glass he offered her. “What you want is to humiliate your family.”
“What I want,” he said evenly, “is to end them before they destroy more lives.”
Their eyes met — and for a fleeting moment, she saw something raw behind his calm: exhaustion. Regret. The kind of pain that didn’t belong to villains, but to men who’d already lost too much.
It unsettled her.
She turned away, whispering, “What happens after six months?”
“You disappear,” he said simply. “You’ll get your settlement, your freedom. No one will question it.”
“And if I fall apart before that?”
“Then I’ll make sure you land softly.”
She laughed without humor. “You talk like you’ve done this before.”
He took a slow sip of whiskey. “I’ve made plenty of deals. None with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone who still believes people can be good.”
Her chest tightened. “You don’t?”
“No,” he said, quiet but certain. “Good people get devoured.”
Something in his tone cracked through her resistance.
Maybe he wasn’t the devil after all — maybe he was just another soul who’d danced too close to hell and survived.
She sat down, staring at the papers again.
Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up the pen.
“Six months,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Six months.”
“No affection. No lies.”
“Agreed.”
“No touching unless I say so.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved faintly. “You’ll want to be careful with that clause, Mrs. Cruz. Temptation makes liars of us all.”
She ignored the flicker of heat his words caused. “And when it’s done?”
“You walk away clean.”
Amara looked at him one last time. “Promise me you won’t use me as a weapon.”
His expression softened — sincere for once. “I’ll use your name, not your heart.”
She inhaled sharply, then pressed the pen to paper.
Her signature bled across the page — steady, deliberate, final.
Sebastian took the folder, eyes following every stroke of ink as though he was witnessing the birth of a prophecy.
Then, to her shock, he took a small silver knife from his pocket and sliced the tip of his thumb. A single bead of blood welled up. He pressed it gently to the corner of the contract.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
He met her gaze. “Sealing it. Every deal worth keeping needs a little blood.”
“Superstitious much?”
“Only about promises.”
He closed the folder and straightened, his voice returning to its usual smooth authority. “Congratulations, Mrs. Cruz. You’re officially the most dangerous woman in Manila.”
Her stomach flipped. “Don’t call me that.”
“But you are.” He stepped closer, brushing past her, his cologne dark and intoxicating. “You just married the devil’s worst enemy.”
She wanted to hate him.
Instead, she felt a strange mix of dread and electricity pulse through her veins.
As the door closed behind him, Amara leaned against the wall, breathless.
Outside, thunder rolled across the city — and somewhere in the distance, the Cruz family empire trembled without even knowing it.
- Writer
