Claimed By The Ruthless Don

Signed Away

Aria's POV

I barely slept after making that phone call.

Dominic had told me someone would pick me up at ten AM. That gave me twelve hours to either change my mind or accept what I'd just agreed to.

I spent those hours pacing my destroyed apartment, second-guessing everything.

Was I really going to marry a complete stranger? Give up my freedom for a year? Trust a man I knew nothing about?

But every time doubt crept in, I remembered the feel of that knife against my throat. The cold voices of those men telling me tomorrow was my last day.

I didn't have a choice.

At nine thirty, I showered and changed into the only decent dress I owned that wasn't torn or ruined. A simple black dress my mother had bought me years ago. My hands shook as I zipped it up.

I looked at myself in my cracked bathroom mirror. I looked terrified. My eyes were red from crying. My face was pale. I looked like someone going to her own execution.

Maybe I was.

At exactly ten AM, my phone buzzed with a text.

"Outside."

I grabbed my purse, took one last look at my apartment, and walked out. I didn't know when I'd be back. Or if I'd be back.

A black SUV was parked in front of my building. The windows were tinted so dark I couldn't see inside.

The back door opened.

A man in a black suit stepped out. He was huge, easily six foot five, with muscles that strained against his jacket. His expression was blank, professional.

"Miss Monroe?" he said.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"I'm Marco. Mr. Vercetti sent me to escort you. Please, get in."

I climbed into the SUV. The leather seats were soft, expensive. The interior smelled like new car and something else. Something clean and masculine.

Marco got in the front passenger seat. Another man I hadn't noticed was driving.

Neither of them spoke to me as we pulled into traffic.

I sat in the back, my hands clutched together in my lap, watching the city pass by outside the window.

We drove for maybe twenty minutes before pulling up to a tall office building. Not as impressive as Vercetti Tech headquarters, but still expensive-looking.

Marco opened my door.

"This way, Miss Monroe."

I followed him inside and into an elevator. We rode up to the fifteenth floor in silence.

The elevator opened into a hallway. Marco led me to a door with a gold nameplate:

"Harrison & Associates, Attorneys at Law."

Marco opened the door and gestured for me to enter.

The reception area was all dark wood and leather furniture. A woman behind the desk looked up and smiled.

"Miss Monroe? They're waiting for you in the conference room. Follow me."

She led me down a hallway to a large room with a massive table in the center.

Dominic was already there, standing by the window. He wore another perfectly tailored suit, this one navy blue.

He turned when I entered. His eyes swept over me, assessing, but his expression gave nothing away.

"Miss Monroe," he said.

"Please, sit."

I sat at the table. My legs felt weak.

An older man in glasses sat across from me. He had gray hair and a kind face, but his eyes were sharp. Professional.

"This is Richard Harrison," Dominic said, taking the seat beside me.

"My lawyer. He's prepared the contract for our arrangement."

Richard slid a thick document across the table to me. It must have been at least fifty pages.

"I recommend you read it carefully," Richard said.

I stared at the document. The words seemed to blur together. Marriage Contract. Terms and Conditions.

"Can you summarize it?" I asked quietly.

Richard exchanged a glance with Dominic, who nodded.

"The contract stipulates a legal marriage between you and Mr. Vercetti for a period of exactly one year," Richard began. "During that year, you will reside in Mr. Vercetti's home. You will attend social functions as required and present yourself as his wife in all public settings."

He flipped through pages, pointing out sections.

"You will not contact anyone from your previous life without Mr. Vercetti's permission. This includes friends, family, and former colleagues."

My chest tightened.

"I can't even call my

father?"

"Your father's debt will be cleared in full the moment you sign this contract," Dominic said.

"He'll be safe. But contact with him will be limited and monitored."

"Why?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Security reasons," he said simply.

"You'll have a monthly allowance for personal expenses," Richard continued, ignoring my question.

"All living expenses will be covered by Mr. Vercetti. At the end of one year, upon successful completion of the contract terms, you will receive a lump sum payment of two billion dollars."

Two billion dollars. The number was so large it didn't feel real.

"There are also non-disclosure clauses," Richard said, his voice becoming more serious.

"You cannot discuss the nature of this arrangement with anyone. You cannot speak to the press. You cannot write about or disclose any information regarding Mr. Vercetti's private life or business dealings. Ever. Even after the contract ends."

"What happens if I break the contract?" I asked.

"Legal action," Richard said.

"And forfeiture of all financial benefits, including the final payment."

"And my father's debt?"

"Would be reinstated," Dominic said coldly.

So if I tried to run, my father would die. They'd made sure I was trapped completely.

"Are there any other questions?" Richard asked.

I looked down at the contract again. Pages and pages of legal language that essentially said I was giving up my life for a year.

"What about... sleeping arrangements?" I asked, my face heating.

"Separate bedrooms," Dominic said immediately.

"This is a business arrangement, Miss Monroe. Nothing more."

I should have felt relieved, but somehow that made it worse. This wasn't even a real marriage. It was a transaction. I was being bought.

"Any other questions?" Richard asked again.

I shook my head. What else was there to ask? I knew what this was. A cage disguised as salvation.

Richard produced a pen and set it in front of me.

"Sign at each of the marked tabs."

I picked up the pen. It was heavy, expensive. Everything about this situation screamed wealth and power.

I flipped to the first tab.

I hesitated.

This was it. Once I signed, there was no going back. I'd be bound to this man, this stranger, for an entire year.

"Miss Monroe," Dominic said quietly.

"You don't have to do this. If you want to walk away, you can."

I looked at him. His face was unreadable, but something in his eyes seemed almost... sad? No, that couldn't be right.

"And then what?" I asked.

"The Caruso family kills me and my father in two days?"

He didn't answer.

I looked back down at the contract.

Two days to live, or one year in a cage.

I signed my name.

The pen scratched across the paper. I moved to the next tab. Signed again. And again. And again.

With each signature, I felt a piece of myself disappearing. My freedom. My choices. My life.

By the time I reached the last page, my hand was shaking so badly I could barely write.

But I signed it.

I set the pen down and pushed the contract back across the table to Richard.

"Congratulations," Richard said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You're now legally engaged to be married. The ceremony is scheduled for three days from now."

Three days. I had three days before I officially became Mrs. Dominic Vercetti.

"Your father's debt has been cleared," Dominic said, pulling out his phone. He showed me a screen. A bank transfer. Five hundred million dollars sent to an account with the Caruso family's name on it. Marked as paid in full.

"He's safe now," Dominic said.

"They won't touch him."

I should have felt relieved. My father was alive. The threat was gone.

But all I felt was empty.

I'd just sold myself to save him.

"Marco will take you to your new residence," Dominic said, standing.

"Your belongings will be collected from your apartment and brought over."

"I don't have much," I said quietly.

"That's fine. Everything you need will be provided."

He buttoned his suit jacket and walked toward the door, then paused and looked back at me.

"I know this isn't what you wanted, Miss Monroe. But I promise you'll be safe. No one will hurt you while you're under my protection."

Then he was gone, leaving me alone with Richard and the signed contract on the table.

Richard began gathering the papers, organizing them into a folder.

I sat there, staring at my hands.

"If you're ready, Miss Monroe," Richard said gently.

"Marco is waiting to take you home."

I stood up on shaking legs and followed Richard out of the conference room.

Marco was waiting in the hallway, his expression still professionally blank.

"This way, Miss Monroe," he said.

I followed him back to the SUV, climbed into the back seat, and watched through the window as we pulled into traffic.

I was going to live a new life now.

A life I'd bought with my signature and my soul.

And there was no turning back.