Chapter 3
1251 Words
Nevaeh
The car that came to pick me up wasn’t just black, it was pitch-black. Sleek like a predator, and so quiet I didn’t even hear it pull up. A suited driver stepped out and opened the door for me without saying a word, just a nod. It felt like stepping into a crime thriller, only I was the clueless girl signing away her life for the money.
The interior of the car smelled like leather and secrets. Soft classical music played through hidden speakers. I leaned against the seat, pretending I wasn’t internally freaking out.
The moment we pulled up to the building, my jaw slackened.
It was more like a monument than a residence. All glass and silver steel, towering into the clouds like it was too proud to stay on earth. The kind of place you couldn’t even look at without permission. The gates opened automatically, and I swear the glass gleamed like it knew it was expensive.
The elevator required a fingerprint scan, his fingerprint obviously not mine.
I stood stiffly inside it, watching the numbers climb, the floor count disappearing into triple digits. When the doors finally parted, I felt like I’d been lifted into another world. His world.
And it was… breathtaking.
The penthouse was ridiculous. Marble floors stretched for miles, smooth enough to make me nervous about slipping. Gold accents shimmered subtly in the lighting, nothing gaudy, just quiet, confident wealth. There were sculptures I was sure were imported from places I couldn’t pronounce, art that looked like it belonged in a gallery, and a floating staircase with glass railings that probably cost more than my old apartment lease.
Every detail screamed power. Minimalist. Masculine. Money.
My footsteps echoed as I stepped into the open space, heart pounding louder than my heels. And then I saw him.
Luca Russo.
Standing by the window like some corporate deity. The city stretched out behind him, glittering beneath the sunlight, and somehow he still outshined it. He wore another tailored suit, navy this time, and held a glass of amber liquid with the ease of someone who owned every room he walked into.
He didn’t greet me. Didn’t say welcome.
“You’re late.”
I blinked. “It’s literally 10 on the dot.”
“When I say ten, I mean nine fifty-five.”
Of course he did.
“Follow me,” he said coolly, already walking away. I hesitated before trailing behind him, like a stray cat chasing a storm.
The tour was brief but intense.
“This is the main lounge,” he said, motioning to a massive living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. The furniture was dark gray, the kind of sleek that said don’t sit here unless you cost something.
There was a sunken fireplace, a ceiling taller than some buildings I’d lived in, and walls lined with art that probably had more value than my organs.
He didn’t linger. Just kept moving.
The dining area looked like it belonged to a royal family. Long, elegant, and mostly unused. The kitchen was industrial: matte black cabinets, gold-trimmed fixtures, a giant fridge with smart glass, and appliances I didn’t dare touch.
“I don’t cook,” he said flatly. “Everything’s catered unless you prefer to starve.”
“I make a mean cup of noodles,” I muttered. He didn’t laugh. Grunch much?
He finally stopped at a set of double doors and pushed them open.
“This will be your room.”
The gasp slipped out before I could stop it.
It is… stunning. White and champagne tones wrapped the space in a glow that felt like peace. The bed was massive, draped in silk. A soft fur rug sprawled beneath it. An entire wall was dedicated to books. Dark romance, mystery, historical fiction,dark fantasy and all my favorite authors. Yes I can tell by just a quick glance, but I'll definitely be taking advantage of it.
How did he even know? Honestly, I don't care
There was a walk-in closet already stocked with clothes in my size—casual wear, loungewear, lingerie that made my throat dry. Shoes I’d only ever seen on influencers. Purses that came with four-digit price tags.
The bathroom? Straight out of a billionaire Pinterest board. Glass shower, sunken tub, gold accents, and a vanity mirror with perfect lighting. I caught my reflection and man I looked like I don't belong here.
I turned slowly. “This is mine?”
“For the next year,” Luca replied.
“It’s… insane. It’s beautiful.”
He looked unimpressed. “Don’t get attached.” ouch!
There it was again, that cold tone. A man who could offer you everything except… himself.
He stepped into the room, arms folded, voice low and clipped. “Now. The rules.”
Here we go. I feel like a kid with this man
“One: You are not to bring anyone into this house. No guests. No exceptions.”
I nodded.
“Two: You are not to speak about the contract. You are my fiancée. That is the story. You will play the role in public, convincingly.”
“Convincingly, how?” I asked carefully.
“If I kiss you, you kiss me back. If I hold you, you don’t flinch. If someone asks, you smile and say yes—we're in love.”
My throat tightened. “Got it.”
“Three: Your schedule is mine. You attend appointments, events, and any meeting I require. You will have a weekly allowance. You’ll be monitored, but not restricted.”
“Generous,” I muttered sarcastically.
He tilted his head. “Four: We sleep in separate rooms. Unless I say otherwise.”
My stomach flipped.
“‘Unless you say so?’ That’s part of the contract too?”
He stepped closer, slow like a hunter. “You agreed to natural conception. That means I f**k you. I don’t have time for artificial insemination and cold labs. When it’s time, you’ll be prepared.”
I swallowed hard. “Define prepared.”
“I’ll handle it.” my face went pale “I won't force myself on you so loose that expression”
Why did his words feel like velvet and chains all at once?
“And the last rule?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He met my gaze dead-on.
“You do not fall in love with me Nevaeh”
His voice was ice.
“You’re here to carry my child, not touch my heart.”
Something behind my ribs ached.
“Don’t worry,” I said, biting back the sting. “I’m not in the habit of falling for men who treat people like business deals.” I am indeed a business deal but I'm not gonna admit that.
That made his lips twitch into something like a smirk, but colder.
“We’ll see.”
He left me alone after that.
I stood in the center of the room, staring at the luxury around me, heart thudding like I’d just run a marathon. I should’ve been thrilled—silk sheets, designer gowns, more money than I’d ever dreamed of.
Instead… I felt like I’d stepped into a glass cage.
Every corner whispered his control. Every wall knew I didn’t belong.
But the worst part?
The way my body still reacted to his voice.
The way my name sounded on his tongue.
Nevaeh.
A contract couldn’t protect me from what he stirred in me. And I had a horrible, sinking feeling…
He knew it.
- Writer
