LOVE UNDER CONTRACT

CHAPTER 1

Cara pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she hurried down the street. The evening wind bit through the thin fabric, but she didn’t care. To say she had a bad day was an understatement. Her feet hurt from standing on it all day and her hands were raw from washing dishes at the diner and to top it off, she got fired and it wasn't even her fault.

She was cleaning tables at the diner when a rude customer brushed past her and his hands landed on her ass.

“Hey! Hands to yourself mister!” she snapped, turning around.

He grinned and leaned closer trying to grab her again but her hands reacted faster than her brain

And before he could say anything, she grabbed the cup of iced cola in her hands and dumped it all over his head.

“‘Relax,’ huh?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Next time, try using your eyes instead of your hands!”

It was safe to say she got fired after that

Now, on top of everything else, I’m down to just two jobs and already hunting for a third.

After that shift, she had rushed straight to her second job as a bag girl at a convenience store and tomorrow morning she would clean offices before the sun came up.

She worked three jobs and still, the money wasn’t enough, not to talk of now that she was down to two.

Damien Blackwood was used to getting anything he wanted. Money made it easy. It opened doors to the best hotels, the hottest clubs, and the most beautiful women. Tonight was no different.

A rooftop bar glittered above Manhattan, the city lights twinkling like a beach during sunrise. Beats of music, glasses clinking, and the night smelling of the most exclusive champagne and expensive perfume. Damien leaned back in his chair, his smile lazy and sure.

“Mr. Blackwood, your table is ready,” a young hostess said, her voice nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing when his eyes met hers.

Damien gave her his most charming smile, brushing a hand lightly against her back as she led him through the crowd. Two models were already waiting at the corner table, waving him over with excited giggles. Damien slid between them, throwing an arm casually around one. He was in his element here.

The drinks kept coming. They laughed at his jokes, and he let their attention wash over him like a warm wave. By midnight, he’d promised a trip to Paris to one and a diamond necklace to the other. He wouldn’t remember their names tomorrow, but that had never bothered him as long as they were available to warm his bed. Women came and went.

And Damien liked it that way. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

It was almost dawn when his private phone buzzed on the bedside table. Damien groaned, rubbing his eyes. Very few people had this number.

“Mr. Blackwood?” The voice on the other end was shaky. It was his grandfather’s butler. “Your grandfather collapsed. They’ve taken him to St. Luke’s Hospital.”

Damien sat up, suddenly wide awake. “Is he....”

“He’s alive. For now.”

The line went dead.

Hospitals always felt cold. Damien hated the smell; clean, sharp, too bright. He had always had an aversion to hospitals after the death of his parents. He walked fast down the corridor, ignoring the way nurses turned their heads when they recognized him.

Harold, his grandfather’s oldest advisor, was waiting outside the ICU. His face was pale, his hands twisting together. “He’s stable,” Harold said quickly. “The doctors said it was a mild heart attack, but…” He trailed off, glancing toward the door.

Damien didn’t wait. He pushed inside.

His grandfather lay in the bed, smaller than Damien remembered, swallowed by the white sheets and wires. Machines beeped steadily, each sound bringing pain to Damien. For a moment, Damien barely recognized him. He wasn’t the strong man who had raised him. He was old and looked so fragile.

“Grandfather,” Damien said quietly.

The old man’s eyes opened, sharp even now. “So,” he rasped, “you decided to show up. I thought you’d be too busy chasing women and making headlines.”

The words stung more than Damien expected. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Mm.” His grandfather shifted, wincing. “Sit down. I don’t have the strength to yell at you.”

Damien dragged a chair close, suddenly feeling like a boy again, waiting for a lecture he couldn’t escape.

“You’ve wasted thirty years,” his grandfather said “ On Cars, Parties and Women. I let it go because I thought time would teach you. But time...” His hand shook slightly on the blanket. “Time is running out for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Damien muttered, eyes on the floor. He wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want to think of a world without the man who had been his only real family.

“Listen to me.” His grandfather’s tone hardened. “You want the company? You want what your parents would have had if they lived and hadn't died in that place crash? Then prove you’re ready. Show me you can take responsibility.”

Damien looked up. “I have. The board knows I can handle deals. I’ve doubled profits.....”

“Not the company,” his grandfather snapped, eyes blazing. “A family. You’ll marry. You’ll settle down before I die. Only then will I hand you Blackwood Industries. Not before.”

The words hit Damien like a punch. He stared, certain he had misheard. “You.... You’re saying I have to get married? Or you’ll give the company to someone else?”

“I’m saying you need to grow up,” the old man shot back, coughing until the monitor beeped faster. “All your money means nothing if you die alone. I want to see a wife at your side before I go. I want to be able to face your parents when I meet them on the other side. I don't mind selling the company and giving all the money to charity if you don't get married before the end of this year.”

"But.... That's barely two months away."

Damien ran a hand over his face. Marriage. Love. The words felt like chains. He thought of the women in his life; glamorous, good diggers who were just with him for the money. Not one would want to sit in this room with him now. Not one would stand beside him when it mattered.

“You can’t expect me to just… fall in love on demand,” Damien said bitterly.

His grandfather gave a weak, stubborn smile. “Make it work however you want. But if I die and you’re still alone, you get nothing. No company. No empire. Nothing.”

Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Damien leaned back in his chair, the weight of the words pressing down on him. For the first time in years, he felt trapped and cornered.

And it seems, this time, money couldn’t buy him a way out.