BETRAYED BY LOVE RUINED BY CHOICE

The contract

The ink hadn’t even dried before I regretted it.

My name sat at the bottom of the contract in black, right under his.

_Adrian Blackwood._

CEO. Billionaire. The man who ruined me three years ago and walked away like I meant nothing.

And now I was signing myself back to him.

“Read it again,” he said. His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous. Like velvet over a blade.

He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, hands in his pockets, city lights bleeding behind him. He hadn’t looked at me once since I walked in.

“I don’t need to,” I lied. “Six months. I’m your fake fiancée. In return, you clear my brother’s debt.”

“Correct.” He finally turned. Black suit, white shirt, no tie. The same way he was the night he broke me.

“But you forgot clause 4.”

My stomach dropped. “What clause 4?”

His lips curved. Not a smile. A warning.

“Public appearances. 24/7. You go where I go. You wear what I tell you to wear. And you play the part so well that even I believe it.”

I gripped the pen tighter. “You can’t control me, Adrian.”

“Can’t I?” He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Cedar and something darker. Regret, maybe.

“Last time you said that, you left me in a hotel room with nothing but a note.”

The air left my lungs. That wasn’t fair. He didn’t know why I left.

“I did what I had to,” I whispered.

“And now you’re doing what _I_ have to.” He picked up the contract, tapped it once on the desk. “Sign it, Lila. Or your brother goes to jail tomorrow.”

My hand shook.

This was supposed to be business. Cold. Clean.

But the way he was looking at me… like he still owned pieces of me… made it feel like war.

I signed.

The moment the pen left the paper, he took it from me. His fingers brushed mine.

A spark. Hate and something worse.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Then, louder: “My driver will take you shopping. You’ll need a dress. For the gala tonight.”

“The gala is in 4 hours.”

“Then you better hurry.” He was already walking away. “Oh, and Lila?”

He paused at the door.

“Wear red.”

The door clicked shut.

And I was left holding a contract that felt a lot more like handcuffs.