Elara Morgan's heart hammered as she stood before the towering glass building. Its mirrored walls reflected the blazing sun so fiercely that she squinted, as if the structure itself mocked her hesitation.
Her mother's frail face burned in her memory. One more day, the doctor had said. One more day before hope slipped away.
She clutched the slip of paper Mr. Desmond had given her, its corners crumpled from her trembling hands. Suite 1501, fifteenth floor.
The lobby inside was pristine, its polished floors echoing her footsteps like accusations. A receptionist in a sleek blazer looked up, her expression professional yet sharp.
"Miss Morgan?"
Elara nodded, though her voice nearly failed her.
"You're expected. Fifteenth floor. Suite 1501."
The elevator ride was torture. Each floor number flashed like a countdown to her undoing. By the time the doors opened, her palms were damp, her throat tight. She caught her reflection in the mirrored wall—eyes red from exhaustion, lips pressed thin with fear.
What am I doing?
She raised her hand to knock on the suite door, but before her knuckles touched the wood, it swung open.
A tall man stood before her. His suit was cut so perfectly it looked sculpted onto him. His eyes—stormy gray and piercing—met hers without warmth. The weight of his gaze made her spine stiffen.
"You must be Elara." His voice was deep, controlled, like a man used to giving orders.
She swallowed. "Yes."
He didn't smile. He simply studied her a moment longer, then stepped aside.
The office was vast, elegant, and cold. Floor-to-ceiling windows spilled pale light across a massive mahogany desk. Behind it sat him.
Adrian Cole.
He didn't rise to greet her, nor did he extend a hand. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with the calm detachment of a man who already owned the room—and everything in it.
"Sit," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Elara obeyed, perching on the chair, her hands tightening in her lap.
"I'll be brief," Adrian began, his voice as sharp as glass. "This is not love. It's a transaction. A contract."
Her pulse quickened.
"You marry me for six months. In return, you'll receive financial compensation. Enough to cover your mother's treatment, and more." He slid a folder across the desk. "Those are the terms."
Elara stared at the folder, the edges glowing under the sterile light. Inside lay her mother's chance to live—and her own cage.
She raised her eyes, voice trembling. "Why me?"
For the briefest moment, something flickered in his gaze—anger, regret, or perhaps pain—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
"Because you're desperate," Adrian said evenly. "And desperate people don't complicate things. They don't ask questions. They don't fall in love."
The words cut like a blade. Elara's hands curled into fists, but her mother's face silenced her pride.
Adrian leaned forward now, his eyes locking on hers with unnerving intensity.
"You will live under my roof, follow my rules, and stand by my side when necessary. No lies. No betrayal. No disobedience. Do that, and when the contract ends, you'll walk away richer than you ever imagined. Fail…" He let the word hang in the air, sharp and dangerous. "…and the deal ends. Immediately."
The silence pressed against her chest like a weight.
Her eyes flicked to the folder again, then to the pen beside it. All it takes is one signature.
Adrian watched her wrestle with the choice, his expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, he smirked—not warmly, but almost mockingly.
"You're hesitating," he said, voice low. "Most people would have already signed. Is fear holding you back, or pride?"
Elara's jaw clenched. "This isn't exactly an easy decision."
"On the contrary," Adrian replied smoothly. "It's the simplest decision you'll ever make. Your mother's life—or your hesitation."
Her breath caught. His cruelty stung, but beneath it, she sensed something else. He wasn't only testing her—he was watching her, studying the strength of her will.
Elara's fingers brushed the pen, her hand trembling.
And for the first time, she realized something chilling.
This wasn't just a contract. This was a game of power.
And Adrian Cole never played to lose.