The Contract Marriage

No goodbyes. No explanation. Just an empty house and a mother who spent years pretending she was fine. That was how my father left us. One morning, he was there. The next, he was gone. No note. No phone call. Nothing. I was six years old, so I didn't understand why my mother kept staring at the front door that morning. I only understood that something was wrong. "Mommy?" She looked at me. Her eyes were red, but she smiled anyway. "Yes, sweetheart?" "Where's Daddy?" Her smile faltered. "Daddy had to leave." "Where?" "I don't know." "When is he coming back?" She looked away. "I don't know, Aria." That was the last time I asked. Years passed. My father never came back. My mother stopped wearing her wedding ring. She stopped singing while she cooked. She stopped talking about the future. And I learned something very young. Love could make you happy. But it could also leave you with nothing. That was why I had rules. No boyfriend. No dating. And absolutely no falling in love. "You're doing it again." I looked up from my coffee. Laura was staring at me from across the café table. "Doing what?" "Disappearing into your head." "I was thinking." "Exactly. That's dangerous." I rolled my eyes. "You're annoying." "And yet you keep meeting me for coffee." "Because you're cheap." She gasped. "I am an excellent friend." "You're also unemployed." "I'm between opportunities." "You're unemployed." She laughed. Then her expression became serious. "So..." I immediately became suspicious. "So what?" "Have you met anyone?" "No." "Anyone cute?" "No." "Anyone who made your heart beat faster?" "Laura." "What?" "You know I don't do that." She sighed. "You know not every man is your father." "I know." "Then why punish yourself because of something that wasn't your fault?" I looked down at my coffee. "Because I don't want to end up like my mother." Laura's expression softened. "I don't want to love someone so much that it destroys me." For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she sighed. "You need therapy." I laughed. "There she is." "I'm serious." "So am I." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. No boyfriend." "Thank you." "No dating." "Agreed." "No falling in love." "Obviously." She pointed a finger at me. "Until someone changes your mind." I laughed. "That's never happening." "You sound very confident." "I am." Laura smiled. "Let's see how confident you are after tonight." I frowned. "What does tonight have to do with anything?" "The gala." I groaned. "Don't remind me." "The Blackwood Foundation gala." "Unfortunately." "The biggest social event of the year." "I'm working there, Laura. I'm not attending." "Still. You'll be surrounded by billionaires." "Wonderful." "Beautiful people." "Even better." She grinned. "Maybe you'll meet someone." I gave her a warning look. "Don't." "Fine." She raised her hands. "No romance." "Thank you." "No billionaire." "Especially no billionaire." She laughed. I checked my phone. My eyes widened. "Oh, no." "What?" "I have to go." "You still have time." "I need to get ready." Laura stood with me. "You're going to look beautiful." "I'll be wearing a staff uniform." "You're still beautiful." I smiled. "Thank you." She grabbed her bag. "Promise me something." "What?" "Don't get into trouble tonight." I slung my bag over my shoulder. "I'll be carrying champagne, Laura. What could possibly go wrong?" She stared at me. I stared back. Then we both laughed. I had no idea how badly I would regret those words. By eight o'clock, I was standing outside the Blackwood Hotel in my waitress uniform. I immediately questioned every decision that had led me there. The building was enormous. Glass covered almost the entire front, reflecting the city lights. Luxury cars lined the entrance, and guests stepped out wearing expensive suits and gowns. I looked down at my black trousers and cream blouse. Then back at the hotel. "Okay," I whispered. "I definitely don't belong here." "Aria!" I turned. My manager was waving at me from the entrance. I hurried inside. The ballroom was even more beautiful. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Round tables covered in white linen filled the room. White roses decorated the tables, surrounded by flickering candles. A string quartet played softly in the corner. Waiters moved between guests carrying trays of champagne. Everything looked expensive. Even the flowers probably cost more than my monthly rent. "Try not to stare." I jumped. My manager stood beside me. "I wasn't staring." "You were." "I was appreciating the architecture." She laughed. "Sure." She handed me a tray. "Stay near the east entrance. Offer drinks to guests as they arrive. And be careful." I looked at the champagne. "I can handle this." "Good." She walked away. I took a deep breath. One night. That's all this was. One night of pretending to belong in a room filled with people who probably spent more money on dinner than I had in my savings account. I could do this. I straightened my shoulders and smiled. For the next hour, everything went perfectly. I served champagne. I smiled at strangers. I listened to conversations I didn't understand. I even managed not to spill anything. Then the room changed. Conversations quieted. Heads turned toward the entrance. A group of businessmen stopped talking. I followed their gaze. A man had just entered the ballroom. Tall. Dark-haired. Black suit. He didn't need an introduction. Everyone seemed to know who he was. He walked through the room with the confidence of a man who had never needed permission to enter anywhere. I glanced at the woman beside me. "Who is that?" She stared at me. "Damien Blackwood." Of course. The Damien Blackwood. CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. One of the youngest billionaires in the country. I'd heard his name before. Everyone had. But I'd never seen him in person. Until now. He was handsome. Annoyingly so. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. Perfect suit. But there was something intimidating about him. He didn't smile. Didn't laugh. He simply looked around the room as though searching for someone. I quickly looked away. Not my business. I had a job to do. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. A few minutes later, I stepped aside to make room for a guest. Someone moved behind me at the same time. I stepped left. They stepped left. I stepped back. They stepped forward. I turned. Too late. My tray collided with something solid. The glasses rattled. My stomach dropped. Then champagne spilled. All over a black suit. The ballroom suddenly went silent. I froze. Slowly, I lifted my eyes. Dark eyes met mine. Damien Blackwood. Champagne dripped from his jacket. I stared at the stain. Then at him. "I'm sorry." He said nothing. Around us, people were staring. My manager looked like she was about to faint. I reached for a napkin. "Let me—" "Don't." His voice was deep and calm. I lowered my hand. "Right." He looked down at his ruined shirt. Then back at me. "Do you always greet people like this?" My brain stopped working. "Only the important ones." Silence. Someone nearby gasped. My eyes widened. Why did I say that? "I'm sorry," I rushed out. "That came out wrong." One eyebrow lifted. "It did." I wanted the floor to open beneath me. Then something unexpected happened. The corner of his mouth lifted. Not quite a smile. But close. He stepped closer. "What's your name?" I tightened my grip on the tray. "Aria." "Aria what?" "Bennett." His eyes stayed on mine. "Aria Bennett." I nodded. For some reason, he repeated my name again. "Aria Bennett." Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. Before I could figure out why, my manager rushed over. "Mr. Blackwood, I'm so sorry. She—" "It's fine." My manager stopped. Damien looked at me one last time. "Be more careful next time, Miss Bennett." Then he walked away. I watched him disappear into the crowd. My manager slowly turned toward me. "Aria." I winced. "I'm sorry." "You just poured champagne on Damien Blackwood." "I know." "And then you told him he was important." "I know." She stared at me. I sighed. "I think I should quit." She shook her head. "Go get another tray." I laughed nervously. "Yes, ma'am." I turned away. Across the ballroom, Damien disappeared into the crowd. I told myself it didn't matter. He was just a stranger. A billionaire stranger I'd embarrassed myself in front of. Nothing more. I had no idea that before the night was over, he would remember my name. And I certainly didn't know that by tomorrow morning, Aria Bennett would be sitting at the center of a problem she had never asked for.