The Deal
ANN
Ann Moore had always known her life didn’t belong to her as long as she was born into the outfit.
That truth settled heavily in her chest as she stood outside the study door, her fingers twisting together until they hurt. Inside, voices murmured low, tense, urgent. Her father’s voice was steady with a hint of desperation that couldn’t be hidden. Her uncle’s was sharp with fear.
And then there was the other voice.
Deep. Calm. Deadly.
She had never heard it before, but it silenced the room effortlessly.
“Ann,” her father called suddenly. “Come in.”
Her heart skipped painfully as she pushed the door open.
The study smelled like leather and expensive cologne. Her father sat rigid behind the desk, sweat lining his brow. Her uncle paced near the window. And then Ann saw him.
He sat on the sofa like he owned the house long legs crossed, broad shoulders filling the space, dark suit immaculate. His face was carved from sharp lines and cold control. His eyes lifted slowly, landing on her.
Black, assessing and covered with a darkness that she couldn’t quite decipher.
Ann froze.
“So this is her,” the man said quietly.
Her father cleared his throat. “Yes. This is my daughter.”
The man stood.
He was tall well taller than she expected and when he walked toward her, Ann’s breath came shallow. He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. Expensive. Masculine. Dangerous.
He studied her like a problem to be solved.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Nineteen,” she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
Her father stood abruptly. “Mr. Blackwood, please…”
Nico Blackwood raised a hand, silencing him. His gaze never left Ann.
“She’ll do.”
Ann’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“D-do?” she stammered.
Her father swallowed hard. “Ann… Mr. Blackwood has agreed to settle all our debts. The company will survive. Our home will be saved.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand.”
Nico finally spoke again, his voice calm enough to terrify her.
“You will marry me.”
The words hit her like a slap.
Marry.
Him.
“I—” her voice broke. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he said flatly. “And you will.”
Tears burned her eyes as she turned to her father. “Papa?”
He couldn’t meet her gaze.
“This is the only way,” he whispered.
Ann felt something inside her break.
Nicostepped closer. “This isn’t a romance,” he said coldly. “It’s a contract. You give me your name. Your obedience. I give your family their future.”
Her knees felt weak.
“And if I refuse?” she asked.
His eyes darkened.
“Then everything you love disappears.”
Ann closed her eyes.
She had no choice.
Ann didn’t remember much from the meeting.
She only remembered nodding as tears slid silently down her cheeks.
She was getting married to a stranger.
It was still surreal because just yesterday she woke up a young girl who had dreams to escape this life she was born into but soon she was going to belong to another monster part of the life she was trying to escape.
The contract lay on the table now, thick and unforgiving. Pages filled with words she barely understood clauses about heirs, appearances, loyalty. No love. No affection. No escape.
Nico Blackwood stood beside her, watching.
“Sign,” he ordered.
Her hand trembled as she took the pen.
“This marriage will be announced within forty eight hours,” he continued. “You will move into my estate immediately after that.”
She looked up at him. “May I.. may I finish my schooling?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You will finish whatever I allow you to finish.”
The words stung, she should keep her mouth shut but she couldn’t help herself
“I want to finish schooling or I won’t go with you”.
Something flickered in his gaze at that surprise? Amusement?
He leaned down until his face was level with hers.
“You belong to me now, Ann,” he said quietly. “I don’t tolerate disobedience.”
Her throat tightened. “I understand but...”
“I will consider it” said Nico
She looked at him hoping to see if he was telling the truth but she was met with a stoic face void of emotion.
She signed.
The pen felt heavier than it should have.
When it was done, Nico straightened and buttoned his suit jacket.
“The wedding will be small,” he said. “You don’t need to pretend to smile.”
Annie hugged her arms around herself. “Why me?”
He paused.
Then, without turning around, he said, “Because you’re quiet. And quiet women don’t ask for things.”
Her chest ached.
