Love rekindled from shadows

Episode three

I was sitting at my studio, staring at a half-finished canvas, the colors blurring together in front of me. It should have been an escape, a place where I could focus, breathe, and forget. Instead, it was just another reminder of how far I had fallen.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, expecting another text from Mia.

But it wasn’t.

It was from an unfamiliar number.

Damien Sinclair

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen. Maybe it was just a reminder. Maybe he wanted to check in. Or maybe…

I opened the message.

We need to meet again. Now.

It was blunt. No pleasantries, no room for negotiation. Just a demand.

I stared at the words, my heart pounding. I had told myself that I wouldn’t be pressured. That I wouldn’t let him push me into a decision. But now, with this message, I felt the walls closing in.

I wasn’t sure whether I was afraid of the deal itself or of the man who was offering it. Damien Sinclair was a force of nature, and I was beginning to suspect that his offer wasn’t just a solution—it was a game. And in that game, I was the pawn.

I bit my lip and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in my dress. There was no avoiding him.

I had to face him.

Damien leaned back in his chair, the low hum of the city’s nightlife creeping in through the open windows of his office. He had already finished most of his work for the day, but something about his encounter with Sienna lingered in his mind.

She hadn’t rejected him outright. She hadn’t even said no.

He was a man of few words, but every word he spoke with her felt like it carried more weight. He didn’t need her to love him. He didn’t need her to even like him.

All he needed was for her to agree to the contract.

A clean, simple deal.

But there was something in the way she’d looked at him, the way her gaze had met his and faltered, that intrigued him. It wasn’t just her desperation—it was the fire in her eyes. Despite the uncertainty, she had a backbone.

He respected that.

Damien glanced at his phone again. She had texted back.

When and where?

Good. She was playing her part.

His lips curled into a slight smile as he tapped a few words back.

The same place. Forty-five minutes.

The meeting place was a sleek, upscale restaurant—a far cry from my little art studio. When I arrived, I felt instantly out of place. The polished marble floors, the golden chandeliers, the waitstaff gliding effortlessly between tables—it was a world I barely understood, let alone belonged to.

I stood near the entrance, shifting nervously from foot to foot, feeling my dress cling to me in all the wrong ways. Damien was already seated at a corner table, watching me approach with that same calculated expression I’d seen before.

“You came,” he said, his voice smooth like velvet.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I replied, trying to keep my tone even, but failing to hide the tension in my voice.

He waved for me to sit. “Take a seat. We need to discuss the terms.”

I sat down, the chair feeling far too cold and foreign beneath me. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

Damien’s eyes didn’t waver. “I don’t make offers I’m not prepared to keep.”

I was about to respond when the waiter arrived, setting down a glass of wine in front of me. I didn’t know why, but it felt almost… like a signal. A preparation for the deal to be finalized.

Damien took a sip from his own glass and leaned forward slightly. “I’ve given you two days to think about it. You’ve had enough time.”

I swallowed. “And you expect me to just sign up for this?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t expect anything. You either want this opportunity, or you don’t.”

His words hit harder than I expected. I clenched my jaw, trying to push past the doubt swirling in my chest.

“I’ll pay off your debts,” he continued, leaning in a little more. “I’ll give you the financial stability you need. All you have to do is marry me. A year. One year. After that, you walk away with nothing more than what you’ve gained.”

A year.

I was starting to understand. This wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about anything other than business. A contract. A deal.

But what would happen to me after the year?

“What happens after the year?” I asked, my voice low.

“You get your business, and I get my reputation.” He smiled, but there was something about it that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing else. Clean break.”

It was the perfect deal. No emotion. No attachment.

Except for the part where I had to actually marry him.

I stared at him, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. “And if I say no?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Then we both lose.”

I felt the room tilt slightly, as if everything around me was shifting. The stakes were higher now. Much higher.

I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.

“Alright,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “I’ll do it.”

Damien’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t seem surprised.

Good,” he said, his voice low. “We’ll start the paperwork tomorrow.”

I should’ve said no. I should’ve walked away the moment Damien Sinclair proposed a contract marriage.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I found myself sitting in a sleek, overpriced café across from him, my fingers drumming anxiously against my coffee cup. The taste of the rich brew did nothing to calm the storm in my chest.