Chapter Two: The Contract
933 Words
Elora’s POV
My hands trembled as I sat across from Damian Blackwood.
A billionaire.
A stranger.
A man who had just offered to save my father’s life for a price.
Marriage.
Not love. Not even companionship. A transaction. A deal.
I stared at him, searching for the catch. “Why me?” I finally asked, my voice hollow. “But you could have any woman in this city, someone rich, powerful, experienced…..”
“And that’s exactly the problem,” he cut in smoothly. “They all want something. Influence. Publicity. Legacy. I want silence, compliance, and someone who has more to lose than to gain.”
He leaned back in his seat, eyes cold and calculating. “You’re desperate. And desperation makes people loyal. It makes them careful.”
I swallowed hard, the insult hitting like ice water. But he was right. I was desperate. I was terrified. And in this moment, nothing mattered more than saving Dad.
“How long would this last?” I asked quietly.
“One year. No longer. No messy divorces. No press leaks. No real emotions.”
He pulled out a slim leather folder from a drawer beside him and slid it across the table.
Inside was a printed contract. It was real. Legal. Cold.
“You’ll move into my estate. Attend a few public events. Wear a ring. Smile. The press will think we’re newlyweds. That’s all.”
“And in exchange?”
He held my gaze. “Your father’s bills will be paid. A private doctor. Premium care. I’ll even give you a stipend monthly. Enough to keep your dignity intact.”
My chest rose and fell, too fast, too shallow. I looked down at the contract again, then up at the man who could change everything.
“What happens if I break the contract?”
“You won’t,” he said simply. “Because if you do, your father’s treatment stops immediately. No delays. No renegotiation.”
I felt my heart twist. It wasn’t a contract, it was a cage. A golden one, but a cage all the same.
Still, I thought of my dad. His labored breathing. His tired eyes. The fear in his voice the last time he asked me if we’d be okay.
I blinked away tears. There was only one answer I could give.
“I’ll do it,” I whispered. “I’ll marry you.”
Damian’s expression didn’t change. No smile. No warmth. Just a nod, like a deal had been struck and nothing more.
“Good. We’ll do a quiet court registration tomorrow. I’ll have my assistant deliver your belongings to the estate.”
He stood, signaling the meeting was over.
I stood too, but my legs felt like jelly. I clutched the folder to my chest like a lifeline and started walking toward the door.
“Elora.”
I paused, turning back slowly.
“One more thing,” he said, voice low. “From this moment on, no one knows this is a contract marriage. Not your friends. Not the hospital. Not even your father. You’re Mrs. Blackwood now, and you’d better act like it.”
I nodded, silent.
Then I walked out of that restaurant and out of my old life.
By morning, the news had already broken.
“Damian Blackwood, the city’s most elusive bachelor, secretly wed an unknown woman yesterday in a private ceremony.”
Photos were already circulating of us outside the registry office. I looked dazed. He looked powerful.
The internet called me lucky. Beautiful. A Cinderella story.
But they didn’t know the truth. That the glass slipper came with shackles.
Was this a right decision I was making, I am a student and Damien seems older than me a bit. I murmured.
I arrived at the Blackwood estate shortly after noon. The mansion was a fortress of glass and stone, modern and emotionless just like its owner.
A tall woman in a gray suit greeted me at the door. “Mrs. Blackwood. Welcome. I’m Evelyn, the house manager. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“Quarters?” I echoed.
“Yes. You and Mr. Blackwood won’t be sharing a room. He prefers privacy.”
Of course he does.
She led me upstairs to a beautiful bedroom with neutral tones, high ceilings, and a view of the garden that looked like it belonged in a magazine.
A closet full of designer clothes waited for me. None of it was mine.
“There’s a schedule for public appearances on the dresser,” Evelyn said. “Your first will be the Blackwood Foundation Gala in five days. Mr. Blackwood will expect you to look the part.”
She left without waiting for a reply.
I sat on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed. What had I done?
“Elora, are you not making a mistake?” I asked myself.
As I unpacked the little I had, a knock echoed on the door. I opened it to find Damian standing there, tailored and distant.
He handed me a sleek phone. “This is your new number. My assistant is on speed dial. So is the private doctor for your father. His first treatment starts tomorrow.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Thank you,” I said softly.
“Don’t thank me,” he replied. “This is business.”
I nodded, gripping the phone. “Still. You saved him.”
For the first time, a flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression. But he said nothing, only turned and walked away.
I closed the door slowly and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
- Writer
