Six-Signed, sealed...and stolen breath
1570 Words
Elara’s POV
I couldn’t believe my own hands.
They were trembling as I dialed the numbers on the sleek card he had slipped into my palm the night before. My thumb hovered over the last digit for so long that I thought my heart would explode from my chest. Every sensible cell in my body screamed at me to put the phone down and walk away. But my body… my body remembered the way his lips felt and tye way his eyes burned like steel but melted just for me.
The line didn’t even ring once.
“Elara.”
My name. Just my name. On his tongue, it sounded different. It was heavier, intimate and dangerous. His voice did things to me I couldn’t explain, and I gripped the phone tighter to steady my racing pulse.
When I didn’t answer right away, he asked, firm, almost impatient.
“So?”
The single word curled around me like a command. My throat was dry, but somehow, I managed to whisper the word that would change everything.
“Yes.”
My heart hammered so loud I swore he could hear it through the line.
I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again, low and satisfied.
“Good. Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
I swallowed, heat prickling my neck.
“Yes.”
Tessa had gone to her boyfriend’s place, leaving me alone to wrestle with my decision.
“I’ll be over in a few.”
And then he cut the call.
Just like that. No drawn-out conversation, no hesitation. He had what he wanted.
I stared at the phone in my hand, trying to process what was about to happen. Was I really doing this? A contract fiancée to Adrian Vance? The man every tabloid called the coldest billionaire in the city. The same man who had walked out of my apartment last night leaving me restless, replaying his words, his presence, over and over until I couldn’t breathe.
After he left, Tessa wouldn’t stop interrogating me. She wanted to know why Adrian Vance, of all people, had been at our apartment. I lied. I told her he had come to confess that he couldn’t stop thinking about me, that he loved me. The lie tasted bitter, but it was easier than the truth.
Because the truth was… I had already decided.
I knew it in my bones even before he asked me to think about it. Maybe this was the miracle I had been praying for. An answer in the shape of a man who terrified and fascinated me at the same time.
Tessa asked if I loved him. I said yes. Another lie. Love was a stretch. Lust, desire, attraction? Absolutely. But love? No. At least not yet.
But it was easier to let her believe it. That way, when she saw me wearing his ring, she wouldn’t be shocked.
The real reason was simple. My father’s death had left me with more than grief. It left me drowning. His company was crumbling under debts I didn’t even know existed until I forced myself to open the books. Five months of avoidance had turned into regret when I realized just how bad things were. It was no wonder he’d died of a heart attack.
I could abandon it all, but his dying wish haunted me: Elara, take over my business. Put it back on its feet.
I wanted to honor him. But I couldn’t do it alone.
Adrian Vance was offering me a way out.
Yes, the price was being his fiancée. But was that really a price? A billionaire’s fiancée… with all my debts erased, with enough money to finally build my neurocardiology lab, my own foundation, my dream.
What was the catch?
The doorbell rang, startling me out of my thoughts. My stomach clenched as I padded barefoot to the door. When I opened it, he stood there in all his glory. Tall, sharp suit, a storm bottled in his eyes, and a presence that made the air itself bow to him.
“Hi,” I managed, trying to sound casual when my insides were anything but.
His gaze swept over me, and I instantly regretted answering the door like this. I wore one of my father’s oversized shirts that barely skimmed below my thighs. No bra. Just thin cotton straining against my n*****s and a pair of blue panties underneath.
The way his eyes lingered told me he noticed.
“Come in,” I said quickly, stepping aside, praying my voice didn’t betray how aware I was of every inch of my body.
He moved past me with his briefcase in hand, precise and deliberate, like he owned not just the room but me too. He placed the case on the kitchen island, clicked it open, and pulled out a stack of stapled papers. Without preamble, he flipped to the last page, uncapped a pen, and slid it toward me.
“Sign here.”
The scent of him—clean, expensive, masculine—was intoxicating. I forced myself to focus.
“Why are you so cold?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He raised a brow. “How so?”
“You’re standing there like we’re in a boardroom. You’re… formal. Distant. Cold.”
He didn’t flinch. “We’re doing business right now, Elara.”
“It’s not just that.” I shook my head, frustrated. “You’re so… closed off. Like you’re made of glass but no one’s allowed to touch it.”
His gray eyes held mine for a beat too long, unreadable. Then, smoothly, “Maybe so. Sign it, Elara.”
But his eyes betrayed him. They lingered on me. On my thighs, my breasts, my mouth before locking back onto my face. Heat licked down my spine at the intensity of it.
I cleared my throat. “I have questions first.”
“Okay? Shoot.”
I couldn’t resist. I made finger guns, pointed them at him, and mimicked shooting sounds. “Bang, bang.”
He didn’t laugh. Not even a smirk.
“God, you’re boring,” I groaned, laughing at my own joke anyway. “I’m really going to suffer. Please don’t let me become like this when I’m a billionaire.”
His lips twitched—barely—but it gave me hope.
“Did you have a question, Elara?”
“Yes.” I leaned on the counter, chin in hand. “Why me?”
For the first time, something shifted in his gaze. Not the cold, sharp mask he wore like armor, but something real. His voice dropped, soft but sure.
“Because you’re not shallow like the others. You’re your own person. You don’t perform for anyone, not even your friends. You have your own dreams. Ambitious ones. You’re not afraid to stand alone for them. That’s rare.”
The honesty in his words stole my breath. He had researched me—deeply, carefully—but it wasn’t just facts he’d gathered. He’d seen me.
I tried not to blush. Failed.
“And what’s in it for you?” I pressed, my voice softer. “You’re going to spend so much money. What do you get out of this?”
“You get to be my fiancée.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous. You could snap your fingers and have a thousand women lining up. Be serious.”
His jaw ticked. “My mother wants me married. She won’t stop. I don’t want a wife. Not now. Maybe not ever. But she won’t take no for an answer. This will silence her.” He hesitated, then admitted, “Other women bore me. I can’t stand more than two minutes in their company. But you… you’re not bad at all.”
A pause. Then, quietly, “You’re perfect.”
My breath caught.
Then he cleared his throat, masking the slip. “Perfect for the job.”
I smirked, hiding my racing pulse. “So you’ll cover all my debts?”
“Yes. Anything you need.”
“And there’s no catch? You’re not going to swoop in and own my father’s business or chain me to you forever?”
“No.” His eyes locked on mine. “Nothing like that.”
“Sweet,” I whispered, smiling. “Miracles do happen.”
I picked up the pen and signed.
His lips curved—barely, but it was there. Approval. Satisfaction. Something darker. He reached into his pocket and set down a small velvet box.
“Wear it whenever you’re ready.”
I opened it and gasped. A diamond ring glittered back at me, exquisite and heavy with meaning.
“A diamond ring?” I teased, heart thudding. “Adrian Vance, if you love me, you can just say so.”
“I don’t,” he deadpanned.
I glared at him. “That was a joke. You really need to work on your humor if we’re going to be engaged.”
“You’ll need to work on how much you talk if we’re going to be engaged.”
The retort slipped out before I could stop it. “You can always kiss me if I’m talking too much.”
I didn’t expect him to move.
But in the next breath, his mouth was on mine. Hard, consuming, claiming.
And my world tilted.
- Writer
