His rules my ruin

CHAPTER 1: The Contract The knock came at 2:17 AM. Not a knock. A pounding. Open the damn door, Hayes! We know you’re in there!” I pulled the blanket over my head like a kid. Like that would make the debt collectors disappear. Mom’s hospital bills were on the kitchen table. $347,000. Final notice. My brother’s tuition was 2 weeks late. And Dad? Dad ran. Another pound. The cheap apartment door rattled. “One more minute and we break it down!” I was out of options. Out of time. Out of tears. That’s when my phone buzzed. Unknown number. _We need to talk. 24 hours. Come alone. D. Cross I didn’t know a D. Cross. But I knew desperation. So 10 hours later I was sitting in the top floor of Cross Tower. 50 stories up. Glass walls. Everything black, white, and sharp. Just like him. Damian Cross. The name whispered in news articles and in fear. CEO of Cross International. And according to the internet... head of the Cross family. The _other_ business. He didn’t look up when I came in. Just kept signing papers with a Mont Blanc pen. Black suit. Black watch. Black everything. “Sit,” he said. Voice like gravel. I sat. “You’re Selena Hayes. Age 22. In debt $412,000. Father disappeared 6 months ago. Mother has stage 3 cancer. Brother is 16.” He finally looked at me. Gray eyes. Cold. Calculating. “How did you—” “I know everything,” he cut in. “That’s what I do.” He slid a folder across the obsidian desk. Inside was a contract. Thick. Legal. 12 pages. And on top, a check. $10,000,000. My hands shook. “What is this?” I whispered. “A solution,” Damian said. “You sign this, I pay all your debts. Today. Hospital, school, everything. Plus $50,000 a month for the duration.” “And in exchange?” “You marry me. For one year.” I laughed. It came out broken. “This is a joke.” “No.” He leaned back. “It’s business.” I stared at the check. At the zeros. That was Mom’s treatment. That was my brother’s future. That was us not on the street. “Why me?” “Because you’re clean. No scandals. No exes causing problems. And you’re desperate enough to say yes but not stupid enough to cause trouble.” A pause. “And you look good on my arm.” The bluntness knocked the air out of me. “What are the terms?” He nodded to the contract. “Page 4.” I flipped. TERMS OF CONTRACT MARRIAGE 1. Duration: 12 months 2. No divorce, no cheating, no public embarrassment 3. You will live in my residence 4. You will attend events as my wife 5. You will obey house rules 6. No love. This is not a real marriage. My throat went dry. “Obey house rules?” “You’ll get the list when you move in.” He said it like he was talking about the weather. “And after 12 months?” “You walk away. $2 million severance. We never see each other again.” It should have been easy. It was just a year. Just pretending. But the way he looked at me... like I was already his... “I need time to think,” I said. “You have until midnight,” Damian replied. “After that, I find someone else. And your mother’s chemo gets cancelled tomorrow.” Cruel. But honest. I stood up. Legs felt like jelly. “I’ll call you.” “Don’t,” he said. “I’ll call you. At 11:59.” At 11:58 PM my phone rang. I was sitting on the floor of my apartment, the contract in my lap. The collectors had left a note on the door: _24 hours._ I answered. “Decision?” His voice was the same. No hope. No pressure. Just fact. I closed my eyes. Thought of Mom. Of my brother. Of being safe. “Yes,” I whispered. “Good girl,” he said. And something in his tone made my stomach flip. “Car will be there in 20. Pack one bag. You move in tonight.” The line went dead. 20 minutes later, a black Maybach was downstairs. A man in a suit opened the door for me. As we pulled away from the only home I’d ever known, my phone buzzed again. New text. From Damian. Welcome to my empire, Mrs. Cross. Rule #1: You don’t leave this house without telling me. Rule #2: You answer when I call. Rule #3: You sleep in my bed._ I stared at the last line. My face burned. The car turned into Cross Tower’s private garage. The doors opened. And there he was. Waiting. Hands in pockets. No smile. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said as I stepped out. “This isn’t love. This isn’t dating. This is a contract.” He stepped closer. Tilted my chin up with two fingers. “But while you’re mine, you follow my rules. Understand?” I nodded. Couldn’t speak. “Good girl,” he said again. Softer this time. And then he walked away, expecting me to follow. I did. Because I had no choice. [End Chapter 1]