Married to My Enemy

Isabella Hart had never imagined that saving her family would mean marrying the one man she had every reason to hate. Alexander Blackwood sat behind his desk, looking through a document as though her presence meant nothing to him. His office overlooked the city, and everything inside it, from the expensive furniture to the paintings on the walls, spoke of wealth and power. Isabella remained standing. She had no intention of making herself comfortable in a place where she clearly wasn't welcome. "Why did you ask me to come here?" she demanded. Alexander closed the document and finally looked at her. "Your father's company is in trouble." Her expression tightened. "I know that." "Then you also know he has less than a week before the bank takes everything." She hated the calmness in his voice. He spoke about her family's suffering as if he were discussing the weather. "What do you want from me, Alexander?" He opened a drawer, removed a folder, and pushed it across the desk. "Marry me." For a moment, Isabella thought she had misunderstood him. She looked at the folder, then back at his face, waiting for the joke that never came. "Have you lost your mind?" "Not that I'm aware of." "You want me to marry you? After everything that has happened between our families?" "One year," he replied. "You marry me for one year, and I settle your father's debts. Your family keeps its home, and his company gets another chance." Isabella stared at him. The offer sounded almost too good to be true, and Alexander Blackwood was not a man known for generosity. "Why would you do that?" "Because I have my reasons." "Which are?" "Not part of the agreement." She pushed the folder back toward him. "Then find someone else." Alexander didn't stop her when she turned toward the door. He simply spoke again, his voice quiet enough to make her pause. "Your father can't pay what he owes, Isabella. By Friday, you'll have nowhere to go." She stood motionless, remembering the worried expression her mother had worn that morning and the way her younger brother had asked whether everything would be all right. She had promised them it would be, even though she had no idea how to make that promise come true. Slowly, she turned around. "What happens after the year is over?" "You walk away with your family's debts paid. I'll ask nothing more of you." "And we live separately?" "Naturally. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing else." Isabella studied him, searching for some sign that he was lying. Alexander was handsome in a way that made people forgive him too easily, but she had never been one of those people. His cold eyes reminded her of every warning she had heard about the Blackwood family. She picked up the folder and read through the agreement. The terms were strict, but the promise to save her family was impossible to ignore. Finally, she looked at him. "I have conditions of my own. You will not interfere with my family after the debts are settled, and you will never use this marriage to control my life." Alexander considered her demands before extending his hand. "Agreed." She shook it, already regretting how cold his fingers felt against hers. "Welcome to the Blackwood family," he said. Isabella released his hand. "Don't expect me to play the part of a loving wife." "I wouldn't dream of it." She gathered the papers and headed for the door, but his next words stopped her. "There's something you should understand before you sign." She turned back. "Your father and I have unfinished business. This marriage is the only reason I'm willing to help him." A knot formed in her stomach. "What kind of unfinished business?" Alexander's expression hardened. "Ask your father what happened to my mother." Isabella felt the colour drain from her face. His mother had died years ago, and as far as she knew, her father had never even met the woman. "You're lying." "Then you have nothing to worry about." She left his y with the contract clutched against her chest, but his words followed her all the way home. For the first time, she wondered whether she truly knew the man who had raised her. That evening, she placed the agreement on the dining table in front of her father. "Who was Alexander Blackwood's mother?" she asked. Her father looked at the name on the document. Within seconds, the colour disappeared from his face. "Where did you get this?" "That doesn't matter. Why does Alexander think you had something to do with her death?" Her father rose so abruptly that his chair scraped across the floor. He glanced toward the windows before lowering his voice. "You need to stay away from that family." "I can't. I've already agreed to marry him." For several seconds, he simply stared at her. Then he sat down slowly, covering his face with both hands. "Isabella, what have you done?" Before she could answer, someone knocked at the front door. Her father looked toward the sound, and the fear in his eyes told her that whoever stood outside was not an ordinary visitor. Then her phone vibrated. A message from Alexander appeared on the screen. Don't let your father leave the house tonight. He knows why my mother died.