Chapter 3: The Contract with No Escape
611 Words
Elena stood in front of Blackwood Enterprises, staring up at the towering glass building as the morning rush swarmed around her.
She had barely slept.
Damian’s words from last night had echoed in her mind on repeat.
“If you want my name, you take everything that comes with it.”
And yet, here she was—at his doorstep.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she walked through the grand entrance. The place was as intimidating as the man himself—sleek, modern, utterly untouchable. The receptionist barely glanced at her before motioning toward the private elevator.
“He’s expecting you.”
Elena stepped inside, her heart pounding as the doors slid shut.
There was no turning back now.
1. The Terms of a Sinful Deal
Damian’s office was as cold and imposing as the man who owned it—floor-to-ceiling windows, dark leather furniture, and a massive desk that looked like it belonged to a king.
He was standing by the window when she entered, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the city below.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he turned, his expression unreadable. “You showed up.”
Elena lifted her chin. “You gave me until nine, didn’t you?”
He gestured toward the seat across from his desk. “Then let’s talk.”
She sat down as he slid a document toward her—a contract, thick with fine print and the weight of something inescapable.
Her stomach tightened.
“You really had this drafted overnight?” she asked, picking it up.
Damian smirked. “I don’t waste time.”
She skimmed the pages. One year. Full public appearances. No romantic involvement required.
Everything looked straightforward—until she saw the last clause.
She frowned. “A non-compete clause?”
Damian leaned back, watching her. “If you take my name, you represent my interests. That means no competing deals, no working with my rivals. For the duration of our marriage, you belong to Blackwood Enterprises.”
Her fingers tightened on the paper. “So you’re trying to control me.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “I’m protecting my investment.”
Elena exhaled sharply. “I run a design firm, Damian. I need to work. You can’t expect me to put my career on hold.”
“I expect you to make a choice.” His voice was cool, calculated. “Do you want this deal or not?”
Her pulse hammered. She wanted to tell him to go to hell. But she also knew what was at stake.
She set the contract down. “Remove the non-compete clause.”
His brows lifted, just slightly. “No.”
Elena clenched her jaw. “Then I can’t sign.”
Damian studied her for a long moment. Then, to her surprise, he leaned forward, hands folded on the desk.
“I’ll amend it,” he said finally. “You can continue working. But any project tied to my competitors is off-limits.”
It was still a restriction. Still a power play.
But it was better than nothing.
She hesitated—then reached for the pen.
Damian watched, his expression unreadable as she pressed the tip to paper.
One signature. One deal.
And she was his.
As soon as she finished, he took the contract and set it aside. “Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwood.”
Her breath hitched. “We’re not married yet.”
His lips curved slightly. “No. But from this moment on, you belong to me.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
For better or worse, she had just made a sinful deal with the devil himself.
- Writer
