CHAPTER SEVEN - Signed, but Unsealed
1297 Words
James crossed the room and opened the door.
A middle-aged man in a neatly pressed chauffeur’s uniform stepped inside, breathing a little harder than usual. He removed his cap with a respectful nod.
“My apologies for interrupting, sir.”
Damien regarded him calmly.
“What is it, Morris?”
“It’s the media, sir.”
A beat.
“They’re gathered outside.”
The room fell silent.
Serena frowned.
“The media?”
Morris nodded. “Reporters, bloggers, photographers… they’ve blocked the front entrance.”
The lawyer looked up from the contract.
Serena’s pulse quickened.
How?
No one was supposed to know she was here. Her eyes found Damien.
“Your mother?”
He shook his head almost immediately.
“No.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
He slipped one hand into his pocket.
“My mother values the Blackwood name far too much to risk a public scandal. Whatever she thinks of you, she wouldn’t leak this.”
Serena searched his face.
“Then who did?”
A humorless smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“I have a fairly good guess.”
He didn’t say Ashley’s name, but he didn’t have to. The silence that followed said enough.
After a moment, Damien looked toward the lawyer.
“Let’s finish this.”
The elderly man adjusted his glasses before rotating the contract toward Serena.
“There are four places requiring your signature, Miss Carter.”
The pages suddenly felt heavier than paper.
Two years. Twenty million dollars. One marriage. One chance to right the wrongs.
Serena stared at the blank signature line.
For a fleeting second, she saw another image instead.
Her father.
Standing behind a courtroom glass partition.
“I need you to believe me.”
Her fingers tightened around the pen.
It was the closest she had ever come to the people who had destroyed her family.
Slowly…
She signed.
Once.
The lawyer flipped the page.
Twice.
Another page.
Three times.
Finally…
The last signature.
The lawyer smiled. “Congratulations.”
Damien took the pen from her without ceremony and signed every required section in less than a minute.
When he finished, he closed the folder with a soft thud before meeting her eyes.
“Welcome to the Blackwood family.”
The words should have felt victorious.
Instead…
They felt like the sound of a door locking behind her.
“So…” Serena said carefully. “We’re married now?”
“No.”
Damien slid the folder toward the lawyer. “This only formalizes the agreement. The courthouse ceremony will take place in two weeks.”
She blinked. “That’s fast. I assumed billionaires preferred castles, orchestras, and unnecessary fireworks. You’d need time to plan for that.”
“I prefer paperwork.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
He continued.
“Two weeks should give you enough time to adjust to your new life before cameras become permanently attached to us.”
Serena folded her arms. “And how exactly do you plan to get us out of this restaurant?”
Damien looked mildly confused. “From what?”
“The army of reporters outside.”
Realization crossed his face.
“Oh.”
Then, surprisingly…
He smiled. “We simply had lunch.”
She frowned.
“Together. With my girlfriend.”
Serena laughed. “I’ll admit that’s a convincing story.”
Then she pointed toward the lawyer. “What about him?”
Damien turned toward the old man. “You’ve always enjoyed this restaurant.”
“I have.”
“You wouldn’t mind staying behind?”
Before the lawyer could answer, Damien reached inside his suit jacket and placed a thick bundle of cash on the table.
The lawyer glanced at it.
Then at Damien.
Then back at the money.
A slow smile spread across his weathered face.
“I’ve been meaning to try their tacos.”
James looked away, pretending to examine a painting on the wall.
Even Serena couldn’t suppress another laugh.
Damien gathered the contract folder from the table.
“Let’s go, girlfriend.”
Serena looked at him as a faint blush crept across her cheeks.
He reached across the table.
Her heart skipped.
Right, a peck on the cheek for practice.
She closed her eyes.
Lifted her chin ever so slightly.
And waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
The silence became suspicious.
Slowly…
She opened one eye.
Damien was staring at her.
James had turned completely away, his shoulders trembling.
Morris suddenly seemed fascinated by the carpet.
Even the lawyer had removed his glasses to rub at his eyes.
Serena followed Damien’s hand.
It wasn’t reaching for her.
It was holding the contract folder.
“Oh…”
She cleared her throat. “You meant… the files.”
“I did.”
Heat flooded her cheeks so quickly she thought she might actually combust.
Damien regarded her for another moment before speaking.
“If I ever kiss you, Miss Carter…”
His voice remained maddeningly calm.
“…it will be because the situation requires it.”
A tiny pause.
“Not because I’ve suddenly lost my judgment.”
James failed spectacularly.
A muffled snort escaped him.
He covered it with a cough.
Serena wanted the earth to split open beneath her.
“Right,” she muttered.
“Good.”
“Excellent.”
Damien seemed entirely unaware of the catastrophe that had just unfolded inside her head.
He merely nodded toward the door.
“Shall we?”
A minute later, the five of them stepped outside.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Camera flashes exploded from every direction.
Microphones stretched toward them.
“Mr. Blackwood!”
“Who is the woman?”
“Is she replacing Ashley Morgan?”
“I heard you just signed a contract marriage!”
“When did your relationship begin?”
“Are wedding bells coming soon?”
“Mr. Blackwood!”
“Is it true she’s already moved into Blackwood Manor?”
James and Morris immediately formed a barrier around them.
Damien never broke stride.
He answered only three questions.
“Yes.”
“We’re dating.”
Another shouted question.
“No.”
“There is no contract.”
Another.
“Yes.”
“We hope to get married.”
Nothing more.
He ignored everything else.
Serena kept a polite smile fixed on her face even though humiliation still clung to her like a second skin.
Why would Damien think I’d be excited to kiss him? she thought. What girl—except for the millions of girls she couldn’t even begin to count—would be excited to kiss someone as cutely arrogant as he was?
The crowd surged closer.
Without thinking, Damien stepped slightly in front of Serena, shielding her from the nearest cameras as they approached the Rolls-Royce.
He opened the passenger door.
She was just about to get inside when—
“Shakira!”
The name sliced cleanly through the noise.
Serena froze.
Her heartbeat stopped.
Only three people still called her that.
One was her mother.
The other two…
One was dead.
Which meant—
She turned.
A man was pushing through the crowd with desperate determination.
His clothes were wrinkled. His beard had grown out. Dark circles hollowed his eyes.
He looked like someone who hadn’t slept properly in weeks.
Yet she recognized him instantly.
Ricardo.
Every camera pivoted toward him.
Every microphone followed.
Damien’s gaze tracked hers until it settled on the approaching man.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Your ex should know better than to make a scene in front of reporters.”
Serena barely heard him.
Her eyes never left Ricardo.
When she finally spoke, her voice came out low, almost lost beneath the sudden surge of flashes and shouted questions.
“He’s not my ex.”
A long pause.
“He’s my… fiancé.”
- Writer
