His Contract Wife

Aria Bennett was running. Heavy rain soaked her to the bone, plastering her blouse to her skin and turning her hair into a wet mess. Her high heels snapped halfway down the street, so she kicked them off without a second thought. The cold pavement bit into her soles, but the pain was nothing compared to the panic clawing at her chest. Her feet burned. Her lungs burned. But she didn’t care. Behind her, three hired thugs were still chasing her. Their heavy footsteps splashed through puddles, getting closer with every second. “Hutang ayahmu sudah jatuh tempo, Nona Bennett!” one of them shouted, his voice hoarse from the rain. “Tuan Blackwood mau ketemu!” Tuan Blackwood. Mr. Blackwood. That name alone was enough to freeze Aria’s blood and make her stumble. Adrian Blackwood. CEO of Blackwood Corp. Twenty-nine years old. His wealth was beyond counting, built on ruthless deals and a reputation that made grown men sweat. And most infamous of all… he was cruel, possessive, and never let go of what belonged to him. Aria had never wanted anything to do with him. She’d avoided his name in business magazines, skipped every charity gala he attended, deleted emails from companies under his umbrella. Not until her father made the stupid, desperate mistake of borrowing 2 billion from Adrian’s people. Now her father was on the run. Disappeared three days ago, leaving only a note that said _“Jaga dirimu, Aria. Jangan cari aku.”_ Take care of yourself. Don’t look for me. And Aria was the one who had to pay. She ducked into a narrow alley between two closed shops, her breath ragged. The alley was dark, smelling of garbage and wet concrete. Maybe she could hide here until they gave up. But her steps stopped short. At the end of the alley, a sleek black car was already waiting. No lights, no engine sound. Just a shadow that didn’t belong there. The back door opened with a soft click that sounded way too loud in the silence. From inside, a tall man in a black suit stepped out, drenched from the rain. Water dripped from the edge of his jacket, but his posture was perfect, unhurried. His hair was slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place. His eyes were sharp like a blade, and they locked onto her immediately. His gaze alone made Aria take a step back, her back hitting the cold brick wall. _Adrian Blackwood._ Up close, he was worse than the photos. Taller. Colder. Every line of his face looked carved from stone. “Stop running, Aria,” his voice was low, calm, but laced with threat. It cut through the sound of the rain like a knife. “You’re making my night long.” Aria swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. “I… I don’t know anything about my father’s debt! I swear! He never told me!” Adrian stepped closer. One step. Two steps. The scent of expensive cologne and danger filled the air, overwhelming the stench of the alley. “Unfortunately, you’re listed as the guarantor,” he said softly. Too softly. His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. His touch was cold, controlled. No warmth at all. “So now, you belong to me.” Aria’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. She tried to jerk away, but his grip was iron. “Let me go! I’ll call the police!” The threat sounded weak even to her own ears. Adrian chuckled. It wasn’t a funny sound at all. It was low, amused, like she’d just told a joke he’d heard a thousand times. “Try it. Do you think the police can touch me?” He leaned in, his whisper only for her, hot against her ear despite the cold rain. “Starting tonight, you’ll live with me. Until the debt is paid.” “No! I don’t want to!” Her voice cracked. She hated how scared she sounded. “You don’t have a choice.” Adrian didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. One signal with his fingers, and the two men behind her moved. Strong hands grabbed her arms. She thrashed, kicked, but it was useless. In an instant, Aria was lifted and shoved into the back seat of the car. The door slammed shut, cutting off the rain and most of the light. The car sped away, leaving Aria’s fear behind in the rain, and the alley fell silent again. Aria didn’t scream. Not at first. She sat stiffly in the leather seat, staring at Adrian’s profile as he sat across from her. He didn’t look at her. He was typing something on his phone, his expression neutral, like he’d just picked up a package from the store, not kidnapped a person. _This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening._ The thought repeated in her head like a broken record. Her father was a gambler. She knew that. She’d begged him to stop after her mother died. But he always said _“Just one more time, Aria. I’ll win it back for us.”_ He never did. And now she was paying for it. “Where are you taking me?” Her voice came out hoarse. Adrian didn’t look up from his phone. “Home.” “This isn’t my home.” “It is now.” A cold shiver ran down her spine. She tried to calculate her options. Jump out of the moving car? Suicide. Call someone? Her phone was in her purse, and her purse was gone. Fight? Against him and his men? She’d be lucky to walk away with just bruises. So she stayed quiet. Watched the city lights blur past the tinted windows. Adrian finally looked up when they stopped at a red light. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to kill you,” he said. “Aren’t you?” “For now, you’re more valuable alive.” That was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn’t. *1 Hour Later Blackwood Penthouse* The elevator doors opened directly into the apartment. No lobby, no hallway. Just immediate, overwhelming luxury. Marble floors that reflected the city lights like a mirror. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls showing off the skyline. A chandelier that probably cost more than her father’s entire debt. Everything was black, white, and silver. Cold. Impersonal. It felt like a prison with a view. Aria was practically dragged inside and let go in the middle of the living room. She stumbled, catching herself on a sleek coffee table. Adrian took off his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa without looking. It landed perfectly. Of course it did. Even his mess was controlled. He walked slowly toward Aria, who was still trying to steady her breathing. “Get up,” he ordered. Aria lifted her face. Her eyes were red from holding back tears. She refused to cry in front of him. She refused to give him that satisfaction. “What do you want from me? Money? I don’t have any! I work at a design studio! I make barely enough to pay rent!” “I don’t need your money, Aria,” Adrian said. He crouched in front of her, closing the distance to just inches. Up close, she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. It was unsettling. “I need you.” Aria shook her head violently. “You’re insane! You’re crazy! Let me go! My boss will notice I’m missing!” Adrian sighed, like she was being difficult on purpose. From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a sheet of paper and tossed it onto her lap. The paper was thick, expensive. Official. “Sign this.” Aria’s hands trembled as she picked it up. She didn’t need to read every line. The title at the top was clear enough. *MARRIAGE CONTRACT* Her vision blurred. “A contract marriage for one year,” Adrian explained, his voice detached, like he was discussing the weather. “You’ll be my wife in public. Attend events, play the role. In return, your father’s debt is cleared, and you’ll be safe from my men.” Aria felt nauseous. The room spun. “You think I’ll agree? I’d rather die!” She threw the paper back at him. It fluttered to the floor between them. Adrian didn’t even flinch. He smirked. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. It never did. “You think I can’t make your life worse than death? Your father ran. You’re alone. And this contract… it’s been active since you got into my car.” “What do you mean?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Adrian pulled out his phone again and played a video. He held it out for her to see. On the screen, Aria’s father was tied up in a warehouse. His face was bruised, his mouth was gagged, but his eyes… his eyes were wide with terror. They found the camera and begged. “If you refuse, this will be the last time you see him alive.” Aria’s hands trembled so badly the phone almost fell. Tears spilled over despite everything. She knew Adrian wasn’t bluffing. She’d heard the stories. People who crossed him didn’t just disappear. They ceased to exist. “Why me? Why not someone else? Why not take the money from someone else?” Adrian stared at her deeply. For the first time, something strange flickered in his eyes. It was gone in a second, but Aria saw it. Not hatred. Not greed. But… obsession. “Because for three years, I’ve wanted you, Aria.” Aria froze. The words didn’t make sense. “What?” Adrian stood up. He walked to the window, turning his back to her. His shoulders were tense under his wet shirt. “You don’t remember me, do you? It doesn’t matter. But I never forgot. Three years ago, at the Bennett charity gala. You were wearing a blue dress. You spilled wine on my suit, and you apologized for ten minutes straight like it was the end of the world.” Aria’s mind raced. A charity gala… three years ago… She remembered. Vaguely. Her father had dragged her there. She’d been bored, awkward, trying to avoid old family friends. “You looked at me like I was human,” Adrian continued, his voice lower now. “Not like I was a monster. Not like I was a bank account. No one looks at me like that.” Aria shook her head. “That’s… that’s not a reason to do this.” “Maybe not to you.” He turned back to face her, his expression unreadable again. “But I don’t let things I want slip away. Not anymore.” “Sign it,” Adrian’s voice turned cold again, the moment of vulnerability gone. “Or I’ll send your father’s fingers to you one by one. I’ll make sure you get the video.” Aria looked at the contract on the floor. Then at the phone, where her father’s muffled sobs still played on a loop. She was trapped. Completely, utterly trapped. With tear-filled eyes, she picked up the pen from the coffee table. Her hand shook so badly she almost dropped it. Scratch. Black ink marked the paper. Her signature was shaky, barely legible. Adrian took the contract from her hands the moment she finished. He scanned it quickly, satisfied. “Good. From now on, you’re mine, Mrs. Blackwood.” Aria stared at him with hatred and fear mixed together. Her chest felt hollow, like something inside her had just died. She had just sold herself to the devil. Adrian snapped his fingers. One of his men appeared from the hallway. “Take her to the guest room. She’ll need clothes, food. Don’t let her leave.” Aria was pulled to her feet. She didn’t fight. What was the point? As she was led away, she heard Adrian’s voice one last time. “Get some sleep, Aria. Tomorrow, your life changes.” She didn’t sleep. She sat on the edge of the massive bed in the guest room, staring at the door, listening for footsteps. The room was beautiful. Too beautiful. There were no windows she could open, no sharp objects on the desk. She was a prisoner in a gilded cage. And somewhere downstairs, Adrian Blackwood was probably smiling. *[TO BE CONTINUED]*