PREGNANT AFTER HIS PRISON SENTENCE

Rain poured down in heavy sheets, blurring the lights of the city into streaks of white and gold. Elara Voss stood across the street from Blackwell Tower, soaked to the skin, staring up at the building that had swallowed her life whole. It rose into the storm like a glass-and-steel god, cold and untouchable. Somewhere in that tower was Damon Blackwell—the man who had taken everything from her. Three weeks ago, her life had still been simple. Not easy, but simple. She’d been working two jobs, saving up for her final semester at university. Her father had been alive and free. They had laughed together over cheap takeout and old movies. They had been poor, but they had been okay. Then Damon Blackwell had decided to destroy them. The headlines had come first. VOSS ACCOUNTING FIRM LINKED TO MASSIVE CORPORATE FRAUD. BLACKWELL INDUSTRIES FILES CHARGES AGAINST ELARA VOSS’S FATHER. ACCOUNTANT ARRESTED IN MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR SCANDAL. The police had taken her father in handcuffs in front of their neighbors. The court had denied him bail. The prosecutor had smirked as if the outcome had already been decided. Elara had known from the first moment that it was a setup. Her father was meticulous. Honest. He would never steal. But Damon Blackwell didn’t need the truth. He only needed power. And he had all of it. Now her father was sitting in a concrete cell, facing life in prison. And Elara had received one message that had changed everything: Come to Blackwell Tower. We can discuss your father’s future. She crossed the street, each step heavy as if she were walking toward her own execution. The lobby was as cold as she had imagined—polished marble, towering ceilings, and people who moved with the quiet confidence of those who had never worried about rent or hunger. Everyone here smelled like money. The receptionist barely looked at her damp clothes. “Mr. Blackwell is expecting you.” The elevator ride to the top floor felt endless. When the doors opened, she was led into an office so vast it looked like a private kingdom. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the storm raging outside. The lights of the city glimmered far below like stars. Damon Blackwell stood with his back to her, hands in his pockets, staring out at the rain. Even from behind, he radiated power. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Perfectly still. He didn’t turn when she entered. “You’re late,” he said calmly. Elara swallowed. “I came as fast as I could.” “Time is money,” he replied. “And you’re already in debt to me.” That made her anger flare. “You framed my father.” Now he turned. His eyes were dark and sharp, the kind that could slice through lies and leave nothing but blood behind. His face was devastatingly handsome, but there was no warmth in it. Only control. “Your father stole from me,” Damon said. “I merely caught him.” “He didn’t steal anything!” Elara stepped forward. “You destroyed his career. His life!” Damon walked toward her slowly. Every step was deliberate, measured. By the time he stopped, he was so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “Do you have proof?” he asked. She clenched her fists. “I know him. That’s enough.” He gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “That won’t save him.” Her throat tightened. “What do you want?” Damon studied her as if she were something he was considering buying. “You,” he said. Her heart skipped. “What?” “A deal,” he clarified. “You want your father free. I want something in return.” “Money?” she scoffed bitterly. “I don’t have any.” “I don’t want money.” “Then what?” Damon’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Marriage.” The word hit her like a slap. “Are you insane?” “No.” “You expect me to marry the man who ruined my family?” “Yes.” “Why?” she demanded. “What do you get out of it?” Damon leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. “Public image. Control. And revenge.” Her stomach twisted. “Revenge for what?” “For what your family took from me.” She laughed shakily. “My father didn’t take anything from you.” “You’re wrong.” His gaze hardened. “My brother is dead.” The words landed between them like a bomb. “Your father signed off on the numbers that destroyed his company. That drove him to suicide.” Elara felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s not true.” “I have proof,” Damon said. “The same kind of proof the court used to lock him up.” She shook her head. “Someone lied to you.” “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But until I know the truth, your family pays.” “You’re punishing the wrong people.” “I’m punishing the only ones I can.” Elara’s chest hurt. “So you want to use me to get back at him?” “Yes.” “And if I say no?” “Your father stays in prison.” The silence between them was suffocating. “You’re a monster,” she whispered. “I know.” Tears burned her eyes. “How long?” “One year.” “And after that?” “If you survive,” he said coolly, “you’re free.” Her hands trembled. A year of her life for her father’s freedom. A year married to the man she hated more than anyone in the world. “Write the contract,” she said hoarsely. Damon’s eyes darkened with something like satisfaction. “Good choice, Miss Voss.” When the papers were brought in, Elara barely read them. The words blurred together. All she saw was her father’s face behind bars. She signed. The moment the pen left the paper, Damon took it. “From this moment on,” he said, “you are mine.” Her stomach dropped. “You’ll regret this,” she told him. “I already don’t.” He held out a small velvet box. Inside was a diamond ring. “Put it on.” Her fingers shook as she slid it onto her hand. The stone felt heavy, like a shackle. Damon smiled slowly. “Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Blackwell.” And Elara knew she had just walked into the most dangerous trap of her life.