Contract Ring for Revenge

Chapter 4: The First Night in the Lion’s Den

Adrián Castillo’s penthouse sat on the top floor of a luxury building in Salamanca district. Madrid’s night skyline stretched wide beyond the massive glass walls, city lights flickering like a sea of stars. But Valentina Morales wasn’t taking in the view.

She stood in the middle of the spacious living room, her large suitcase already brought up earlier that afternoon by Adrián’s driver. Just one suitcase. She had deliberately packed light. This was temporary. Eighteen months. No more.

“The room is at the end of the corridor,” Adrián said from behind her. His voice was flat, as if this were routine. “Master bedroom. King size. The closet is already divided in half.”

Val turned. Adrián stood near the minibar, shrugging off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. His forearms were toned, veins visible as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” Val said immediately.

Adrián paused mid-pour. He glanced at her, one brow lifting.

“Have you already forgotten the clause we signed this morning?” he asked quietly. “One room. One bed. No exceptions. There’s a couple photoshoot for ‘Elite’ magazine tomorrow morning. If paparazzi see you sleeping on the couch, tomorrow’s headlines will say we’re already cracking before we even begin.”

Val bit the inside of her lip. She knew he was right, but the thought of lying in the same bed as him made her stomach twist.

“Fine,” she said at last, her voice stiff. “But I take the left side. And don’t expect me to talk before we sleep.”

Adrián gave a faint smile. “As you wish, wife.”

Val grabbed her small suitcase and walked into the master bedroom. The space was large and minimalistic, dominated by a king-size bed at the center. The sheets were jet black, the pillows plush. One side was already clearly Adrián’s, a luxury watch on the nightstand and a thick business book beside it.

Val opened her suitcase, pulled out an oversized black T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She stepped into the bathroom, changed, then came out with her hair still slightly damp from a quick wash.

Adrián was already in the room. He wore only a pair of black training pants sitting low on his hips, his chest bare. His abdominal muscles were sharply defined under the soft lighting. Val made an effort not to look too long.

“You sleep without a shirt?” Val asked flatly.

“Usually,” Adrián replied as he climbed into bed from the right side. “But tonight I’m wearing pants. Consider it an act of kindness.”

Val scoffed and got into bed on her side. She lay stiff as a board, pulling the blanket up to her chest, keeping at least half a meter of distance between them. The lights went out. Only a faint glow from outside filtered through the window.

Silence settled over the room. Only the sound of their breathing remained. Val stared at the ceiling, her heart beating far too fast for sleep to come.

“Why did you choose this?” Adrián asked suddenly. His voice was quiet in the dark. “You could have left the country, started a new life. But instead, you came to me and proposed a contract marriage.”

Val turned her head slightly. Adrián’s profile was faintly visible in the moonlight.

“Because I want him to see me happy,” Val answered. Her voice trembled slightly despite her effort to steady it. “I want Javier to see me standing beside a man more powerful than him. I want him to feel jealousy, fear, helplessness. The same things I felt when that video spread and everyone called me a prostitute.”

Adrián was silent for a long moment.

“You almost killed yourself back then, didn’t you?” he asked quietly.

Val froze. She hadn’t expected him to know.

“How do you know?” she asked sharply.

“I have people everywhere,” Adrián replied shortly. “Including the hospital where you were treated two days after that video went viral.”

Val took a slow breath. “That’s none of your business.”

“Starting tonight, everything is my business,” Adrián said. “You’re my wife on paper. If you die, that tender dies too.”

Val let out a short, bitter laugh.

“How romantic,” she said sarcastically. “You care about me only because of the tender.”

Adrián turned onto his side, facing her. The distance between them closed slightly. Val could feel the warmth of his body even without contact.

“I’m not lying,” he said in a low voice. “But I also don’t like seeing a smart woman like you destroyed by a man like Javier. He’s just a cheap actor who rose because of his face.”

Val met his eyes in the dark. “You used him too.”

“True,” Adrián admitted. “But the difference is, I never pretended to be his good friend.”

Silence returned. Val felt the blanket rise and fall with her uneven breathing.

“Sleep,” Adrián said at last. “We have an early photoshoot tomorrow. You need to look beautiful, not like someone who just signed a contract with the devil.”

Val closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. She could hear Adrián’s heartbeat, slow and steady, yet slightly faster than usual.

A few minutes later, just as Val was about to drift off, Adrián’s voice came again in the darkness, so quiet she almost wasn’t sure she had heard it.

“Valentina… I knew who you were from the start. And I still accepted this contract.”

Val’s eyes snapped open. Her body went rigid.

“The real question now,” Adrián continued, his voice lower, darker, “is how long you can last without falling in love with me.”

Val didn’t answer. She stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest. The gold ring on her finger felt hot.

The first night in the lion’s den had only just begun, and Val knew she was already deep inside a trap of her own making.