SIGNED TO HIS DARKNESS

CHAPTER 3

The first rays of dawn spilled across the penthouse, turning the glass walls into mirrors of gold. Tracy sat up in bed, the silk sheets pooling at her waist, her hair a tangled halo of restless sleep. She hadn’t slept properly—her mind had been a storm of thoughts, replaying Alex’s words, his smirk, the press conference looming ahead.

Her first morning as Alex Knight’s fiancée.

A shiver rolled down her spine.

Dragging herself from bed, she padded barefoot across the polished wooden floor to the balcony. The city stretched endlessly below, alive with movement, utterly indifferent to her turmoil. Somewhere down there, people were starting their day—ordinary people with ordinary problems. And here she was, about to lie to the entire world with a smile on her face.

She pressed her palms against the cool glass railing. What have I done?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called softly.

A tall woman in her thirties entered, sharp in a pencil skirt and blazer, carrying a garment bag over one arm and a case in the other. Her posture screamed efficiency, her expression calm but unreadable.

“Good morning, Miss Morgan. I’m Elena, Mr. Knight’s personal assistant. He asked me to help you get ready for today.”

“Help me?” Tracy frowned.

Elena unzipped the garment bag with practiced grace, revealing a dress that made Tracy’s breath catch. Midnight blue silk, elegant yet daring, with a neckline that promised confidence and a skirt that whispered power.

“It’s… beautiful,” Tracy murmured.

“Mr. Knight has a good eye,” Elena replied dryly, setting the dress on the bed before opening her case of cosmetics and tools. “Hair, makeup, wardrobe—you’ll be perfect by the time I’m finished. That’s my job.”

Tracy let herself be guided into the chair by the window. Elena worked quickly, styling her hair into soft waves, applying makeup that transformed her face into something sharper, more glamorous. With every brushstroke, Tracy felt less like herself and more like a character in someone else’s play.

When Elena stepped back, Tracy barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She looked polished, confident… untouchable.

“Perfect,” Elena said with satisfaction. “Mr. Knight is waiting.”

Alex was already by the door when Tracy emerged, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that fit him like sin. His tie was knotted with military precision, his watch gleamed under the light, and his expression was a mask of control.

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes flicking over her from head to toe. Something unreadable passed through his gaze—a flicker of approval, quickly masked.

“You clean up well,” he said finally, his tone cool, businesslike.

Tracy’s jaw clenched. “Glad to meet your standards.”

His lips curved ever so slightly, as though amused by her defiance. Without another word, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Her pulse quickened as she slid her hand onto his arm, his strength radiating through the fine fabric of his suit. Together, they walked to the private elevator, descending into a world waiting to consume them.

The press conference was held in one of the Knight Corporation’s glittering event halls, its marble floors reflecting the dazzling lights of dozens of cameras. Reporters swarmed, voices overlapping, the air electric with curiosity and hunger for scandal.

As the double doors opened and Alex entered with Tracy on his arm, the noise doubled.

“Mr. Knight! Over here!”
“Is this your fiancée?”
“When’s the wedding?”

Flashbulbs exploded like fireworks.

Tracy’s heart thundered in her chest, but Alex’s steady presence beside her anchored her. He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as though whispering something intimate.

“Smile wider, Miss Morgan,” he murmured, his tone velvet and command rolled into one. “They’re watching.”

A shiver raced down her spine. She obeyed.

The questions rained down as they moved to the stage, cameras clicking furiously. Alex’s hand settled at the small of her back—possessive, firm, a silent reminder of the contract she had signed.

They sat at the long table, microphones before them, and the PR manager began introductions.

Tracy forced herself to keep smiling, though her palms were damp and her throat dry. She glanced at Alex, who looked as if he had been born for this moment—poised, powerful, untouchable.

And then a reporter stood, her eyes sharp.

“Miss Morgan,” she called out, voice carrying above the noise. “People say this engagement is sudden. How did you and Mr. Knight meet?”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Tracy.

Her stomach dropped. The rules echoed in her mind. Absolute discretion. Maintain appearances. Don’t question him in public.

Every instinct screamed at her to tell the truth.

But Alex’s hand tightened on hers beneath the table—a silent command.

Tracy drew in a breath, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“We met by chance,” she said smoothly, her voice steadier than she felt. “And sometimes… chance changes everything.”

The room erupted into questions, flashbulbs blinding, but Alex leaned back with a faint smirk—the predator satisfied.

And Tracy wondered, as the cameras captured their every move, if she had just taken the first step into a role that would consume her.