His Contract Wife

Chapter 3: First Night

Aria didn’t sleep.

She sat on the edge of the massive bed in the guest room, clutching the blanket like it was the only thing keeping her sane. The penthouse was silent. Too silent. The kind of silence that made your own heartbeat sound like a drum.

Downstairs, Adrian was probably in his office, working like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just dragged her into a marriage at gunpoint and kissed her in front of 200 people.

The word _wife_ still made her stomach turn.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Before Aria could answer, it opened.

Adrian stood there, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. His shirt clung to his chest from the heat outside. He looked tired. Dangerous. Handsome in a way that should be illegal.

“You’re still awake,” he said.

Aria didn’t reply. She just stared at him like he was a threat.

Adrian stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The click was final.

“I told you to get some sleep,” he said quietly.

“I don’t sleep well in cages,” Aria shot back.

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t a cage. It’s protection.”

“Protection? You call kidnapping protection?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Aria, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I prefer easy.”

“And I prefer not being here,” she said, standing up. “Give me my phone. Let me call my father. Let me know he’s alive.”

Adrian didn’t move. “Not yet.”

“Why? Scared I’ll hear him scream?”

His eyes darkened. “Because if you call him now, my men will think the deal is off. And if the deal is off…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

Aria’s throat went dry. She hated how much power he had over her. Over her father’s life.

“So what now?” she asked. “You keep me locked up forever?”

“No.” Adrian stepped closer. Too close. “Tonight, you’ll learn the first rule of being my wife.”

Aria’s heart pounded. “And what’s that?”

“Obedience.”

The word hit her like a slap.

“Obedience?” She laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You really think I’ll just obey you?”

Adrian reached out and tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear. His fingers were cold. “You already did. You signed the contract. You stood beside me in front of the press. You’re mine, Aria. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

Aria slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he smiled. Not a kind smile. A possessive one.

“I can make you want me to touch you,” he whispered.

Aria’s cheeks burned. “You’re disgusting.”

“Maybe.” He leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “But you didn’t pull away at the gala. You trembled.”

“I was scared!”

“No,” he said. “You were angry. And aroused.”

Aria shoved him back, hard. “Get out.”

Adrian stumbled back half a step, then straightened. His expression was unreadable again. “Fine. But remember this, Aria. I don’t ask twice.”

He turned to leave.

“Adrian!”

He paused at the door.

“If you hurt my father…”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. “As long as you behave.”

The door closed behind him.

Aria sank back onto the bed, shaking. She hated him. She hated how he made her feel small and furious and… something else she didn’t want to name.

She hated that her body reacted to his voice.

The next morning, Aria woke up to the smell of coffee.

She opened her eyes to find a tray on the bedside table. Eggs, toast, fruit. And a note in Adrian’s handwriting.

_Dress code: Black. We have guests. Be on time. -A_

Aria crumpled the note and threw it across the room.

“Guests? More of his business friends to show me off like a trophy?”

She didn’t touch the food. Her stomach was in knots.

An hour later, the maid came again. This time, she didn’t smile.

“Miss Bennett, Mr. Adrian said if you’re not downstairs in ten minutes, he’ll come up himself.”

Aria gritted her teeth. “Fine.”

She chose the simplest black dress in the closet. No makeup. No jewelry. If he wanted a doll, he wasn’t getting a polished one.

When she walked into the dining room, Adrian was already there. And he wasn’t alone.

Two men sat across from him. One was older, late 50s, with a scar across his cheek. The other was younger, maybe 30, with cold eyes that scanned Aria like she was merchandise.

Adrian stood when she entered.

“Aria, meet Mr. Kessler and his son, Damian. They’re here to discuss our partnership.”

Aria forced a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Damian’s eyes lingered on her too long. “So this is the famous Mrs. Blackwood. Prettier than the photos.”

Aria felt sick.

Adrian’s hand found her waist under the table, squeezing warningly. “Watch your words, Damian.”

Damian chuckled. “Relax, Adrian. I’m just appreciating what you have.”

Breakfast was torture. Damian asked invasive questions. Where did she work? What did she study? Did she like being married?

Aria answered with one-word answers. Adrian did most of the talking, his voice smooth, controlled. But under the table, his thumb kept rubbing circles on her waist. Possessive. Claiming.

When breakfast ended, Adrian stood up.

“Excuse us. I need to speak with my wife privately.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled Aria to her feet and led her out of the room.

Once the door closed, his grip tightened.

“What did I tell you about obedience?” he said, voice low.

Aria yanked her arm away. “I didn’t agree to let your friends drool over me!”

“They’re investors. You need to play nice.”

“I’m not your property!”

Adrian stepped closer, backing her against the wall. His body caged her in. “You are. Legally, financially, and soon, emotionally.”

Aria’s breath hitched. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” His hand lifted, brushing her cheek. “But I’m your insane.”

Before Aria could respond, his lips were on hers.

It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming. Possessive. Like he was marking her in front of everyone who’d looked at her this morning.

Aria tried to push him away, but his arm was around her waist, holding her close. His kiss was demanding, hot, and for a moment, her body betrayed her. She responded.

The moment she did, Adrian pulled back.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “See?” he whispered. “You want this too.”

Aria slapped him.

The sound echoed through the hallway.

Adrian didn’t react. He just touched his cheek where she’d hit him and smiled.

“Good. Keep that fire, Aria. It makes this interesting.”

He turned and walked away, leaving her shaking against the wall.

That night, Aria couldn’t sleep again.

She kept seeing Damian’s eyes on her. Kept feeling Adrian’s kiss. Kept hearing his words: _You want this too._

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

Around midnight, she heard footsteps outside her door. It opened slowly.

Adrian walked in, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it all night.

“What do you want now?” Aria asked, sitting up.

Adrian didn’t answer. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“About what? More rules?”

“About us.”

Aria laughed. “There is no us. There’s you and your contract.”

Adrian looked at her for a long time. “Three years ago,” he said suddenly. “At the gala. You remember?”

Aria froze. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Because that night changed me.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You spilled wine on me. You were mortified. You apologized for ten minutes. And you looked at me… not like I was Adrian Blackwood, CEO. Just like I was a man who’d ruined his suit.”

Aria swallowed. “So?”

“So no one treats me like that. Everyone wants something from me. Money. Power. Connections. You just wanted to make sure I wasn’t mad.”

Aria looked away. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything to me,” he said quietly.

Aria didn’t know what to say. The man in front of her didn’t look like the cold, ruthless CEO from the news. He looked… human.

For a moment, the walls between them cracked.

Then Adrian stood up.

“Get dressed,” he said.

Aria blinked. “What?”

“There’s someone you need to see.”

Twenty minutes later, Aria was in the back of Adrian’s car, wearing a coat over her pajamas. She didn’t ask questions. She was too scared of the answer.

The car stopped in front of a private hospital.

Adrian got out first and opened her door. “Come.”

They walked through the empty hospital corridors until they stopped at a room. Through the glass, Aria saw her father.

He was asleep. Bruised, but alive. Breathing. An IV in his arm.

Tears filled Aria’s eyes. “Dad…”

“He’s safe,” Adrian said. “For now.”

Aria turned to him, fury and relief mixing. “You did this. You hurt him.”

“I didn’t touch him,” Adrian said. “My men did. But I stopped them when you signed.”

Aria pressed her forehead against the glass. “Why are you showing me this now?”

“Because I want you to understand something.” Adrian’s voice was low, serious. “I don’t bluff, Aria. And I don’t lose. If you try to run, if you try to betray me, he dies. But if you stay, if you play your part, he lives. And you’ll be safe.”

Aria wiped her tears angrily. “You’re a monster.”

“Maybe.” He stepped closer. “But I’m your monster. And I’ll burn the world for you.”

Aria looked at him, really looked at him. Behind the cold exterior, she saw something she hadn’t seen before.

Obsession. Possession. And something that looked like… care?

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“I know,” Adrian said. “But you’ll learn to need me.”

He pulled her into a hug before she could respond. It was unexpected, stiff, awkward. But it felt… safe.

For the first time since this nightmare started, Aria didn’t pull away.

Back at the penthouse, Adrian walked her to her room.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow, we start training.”

“Training for what?”

“Being my wife,” he said simply. “The public needs to believe it. So do I.”

Aria narrowed her eyes. “And what do you get out of this?”

Adrian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Everything, Aria. I get everything.”

He closed the door behind her.

Aria leaned against it, breathing hard.

She had seen her father. He was alive. That was all that mattered.

But the way Adrian looked at her tonight… it scared her more than his threats ever did.

Because for the first time, she wondered if he wasn’t just lying.