The fountain pen felt impossibly heavy between my fingers, its sleek black barrel catching the harsh light of the penthouse office.
"You have exactly sixty seconds to decide, little bird," a voice commanded from the shadows.
It was a deep, smooth baritone that held the weight of an entire empire. I didn't need to look up to know the expression on his face. Alexander Thorne didn't smile, He didn't sympathize, He calculated. To the rest of Wall Street, he was a ruthless predator to me, he was the only man standing between my family and total ruin.
I looked down at the heavy document resting on the mahogany desk. The bold letters at the top felt like a death sentence and a lifeline all at once: MARRIAGE CONTRACT.
"One year," he continued, his footsteps silent as he walked over to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the rain-slicked city. "Twelve months of playing the doting wife, No scandals. No complications."
"And the rules?" My voice was barely a whisper, trembling despite my best efforts to play tough.
Alexander turned around, his winter gray eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying, suffocating intensity. "You don't look into my past. You don't question my schedule. And most importantly... you do not fall in love with me. Break that last one, and you leave with absolutely nothing."
The clock on the wall ticked forward, a steady, mocking reminder that my time had officially run out, Midnight was here. If I signed, I sold my freedom to a beautiful monster. If I refused, I walked out into the streets with nothing but the clothes on my back.
I gripped the pen tighter, lowered it to the dotted line, and.....