The pen slipped from Amelia's fingers and clattered against the polished surface of the desk, its sound far too loud in the suffocating silence of Adrian Blackwood's office. Her name was already inked across the last page of the contract, binding her to a future she had no power to refuse.
She stared at the papers, her stomach churning. She had done it. She had agreed. She had signed away her freedom.
Across the desk, Adrian leaned back in his chair with the controlled ease of a man who always got what he wanted. His gaze never wavered, dark eyes locking onto hers with a calm intensity that stripped her bare. There was no triumph in his expression, no smugness, only the stillness of a predator that knew the prey had nowhere left to run.
"Good," he said finally, his voice deep and deliberate. "From this moment, Amelia Hart, you belong to me."
The words made her heart stumble. Her breath caught, and her body tensed as though invisible chains had cinched around her wrists.
"Belong to him" ?
Her pulse quickened. She hadn't signed to become anyone's property. She had done it because of Daniel. Because her brother needed treatment, because time was running out, and because this man had cornered her into making the only choice available.
She forced her lips to move. "What do you mean by that?"
Adrian's reply was unhurried, each syllable sharpened with authority. "Exactly what I said. You belong to me. And there are rules you will follow."
He rose from his chair, every movement deliberate, fluid, and intimidating. When he stepped around the desk and stopped before her, Amelia had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He was close enough that she caught the faint scent of his cologne—clean, smoky, and unnervingly magnetic. She gripped the edge of the chair to stop herself from shrinking back.
"What rules?" she asked, the question spilling out before she could steady her trembling voice.
Adrian's gaze flickered briefly with amusement, though his tone remained even. "Rule one. From tonight, you will live in Blackwood Mansion. My house. No arguments."
Her breath caught. "Tonight? I can't just leave my brother"
"Daniel will be moved to a private ward before midnight," Adrian cut in smoothly. "He'll have access to the best doctors in the country, all expenses handled. That is already arranged."
For a moment, Amelia's chest tightened with relief. Daniel would finally get the care he deserved. But the relief quickly turned into dread. If Adrian had already arranged everything, then she had never truly had a choice.
"Rule two," he continued, lowering his voice as his eyes bore into hers. "In public, you will be the perfect wife devoted, graceful, loyal. People will see nothing less than a woman hopelessly in love with me."
Amelia stiffened. "And in private?"
Adrian leaned closer, his lips a fraction from her ear. His words were velvet over steel. "In private, you will obey me."
Her breath hitched. Anger flared through her fear. "I'm not one of your business assets to order around."
For the first time, his expression shifted. The corners of his lips tugged upward into something that might have been a smile, though it was far from kind.
"Then why did you sign?" he asked softly.
Her throat tightened. The answer was obvious because she loved her brother, because she had no other option, because she had been desperate. But she said nothing.
Her silence was enough. Adrian straightened, his eyes unreadable once again. "Good. You're learning."
He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped a message before returning it. "Pack your things. My driver will collect you in an hour."
Her heart lurched. "An hour? That's impossible, I"
The look he gave her was cold and final. "Don't test me, Amelia. You signed. Now honor it. One hour."
Her stomach turned over. Rage clawed inside her, but Daniel's frail image silenced it. Her hands clenched in her lap until her nails dug into her palms. "Fine," she whispered.
Adrian's faint smirk returned. "Wise choice."
Amelia's small apartment felt unbearably cramped when she returned. A half-packed suitcase lay open on her bed, its contents already speaking of a life abandoned. Each folded blouse and book was a reminder of how little she had—and how little of herself she could keep.
Her brother lay on the couch, wrapped in a threadbare blanket. His thin body looked even smaller against the worn cushions. His eyes fluttered open when he sensed her moving about.
"Sis?" Daniel's voice was fragile. "Why are you packing? Where are you going?"
Amelia froze, her hands gripping the fabric of her sweater. Her throat tightened, and she forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Just… something I have to do. But don't worry, Danny. Everything's going to be okay."
He frowned, sensing the cracks in her composure. "You always say that," he murmured.
Her chest ached. If only he knew what she had given up for those words.
Her phone buzzed against the dresser. She glanced at the screen.
Unknown Number: "Forty-five minutes."
The message was curt, commanding. She didn't need a signature to know who had sent it. Her pulse jumped, and for a second she wanted to throw the phone against the wall. Instead, she shoved it into her pocket and zipped the suitcase shut.
In the mirror, her reflection looked like a stranger, a young woman with haunted eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, and shoulders too stiff to carry the weight she bore.
"You can do this," she whispered to herself. "For him."
The Blackwood Mansion appeared through the car window like something torn from a gothic novel. Its iron gates yawned open, swallowing the sleek black vehicle into the estate. Amelia pressed her face to the glass, her eyes wide as the car glided along a path lined with ancient trees and manicured gardens. Fountains sparkled in the moonlight, and the sprawling structure rose in the distance, grand and merciless.
By the time the car stopped at the marble staircase, Amelia's heart was racing. She stepped out onto the cobblestones, her legs unsteady. The building loomed above her, lit by chandeliers that glowed through the windows. It wasn't just a house. It was a fortress.
The double doors swung open, revealing a hall vast enough to swallow her whole. Crystal chandeliers dripped light like liquid fire. Portraits of grim-faced men and women lined the walls, their eyes following her every step. The air smelled faintly of polished wood, smoke, and something darker she couldn't name.
Adrian appeared at the top of the grand staircase, his figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the golden light. He descended slowly, his expression unreadable, his presence commanding.
"You're late," he said, his voice calm but edged with disapproval.
"I " She swallowed. "It wasn't easy to leave everything behind."
For a moment, something flickered in his gaze something too fleeting to catch. Then it was gone. "Get used to it. This is your world now."
Amelia's grip tightened on her suitcase. Was it her world, or her cage?
Her eyes wandered over the ornate hallway as he led her deeper inside. She tried to take everything in the velvet curtains, the marble floors, the gilded furniture. But then her gaze snagged on a portrait hanging at the far end.
It was a woman. Beautiful. Elegant. Her painted eyes seemed alive, almost watching her. There was something hauntingly familiar about the face, though Amelia could not explain why.
She slowed, her steps faltering. "Who is she?" she asked softly.
Adrian stopped. His shoulders stiffened, and when he turned, his expression was carved from stone.
"Don't look at her," he said sharply.
Amelia blinked at the sudden edge in his tone. "But"
His eyes cut into her, dark and warning. "Never ask me about that woman."
The chill in his voice sank into her bones. Something about the painting unsettled him, and though every instinct told her to press further, the danger in his gaze rooted her to silence.
He stepped closer, until his shadow engulfed her. His voice dropped, quiet but laced with steel. "Break that rule, Amelia, and not even your precious brother will save you."
Her breath faltered, her pulse hammering in her throat.
It was in that moment she realized she hadn't simply signed a contract. She had walked willingly into a world of shadows, one where curiosity could be fatal.
And Adrian Blackwood would never let her forget it.