The word still burned on her tongue.
"Yes."
No, not yes. Fine. The word had slipped from her mouth like a surrender she hadn't agreed to but had no choice but to make. It sat there between them, heavy and cold, like the weight of a gun pressed to her head.
Damian didn't react the way she thought he would. He didn't smile wider, didn't lean in. He just stood there, still and sharp, as if her answer had been inevitable all along.
"Sit," he said, his voice calm, almost bored. "We'll get started."
Her knees wobbled. She wanted to run, but her legs moved her toward the leather chair opposite his desk. Her palms were damp. Her breath came too fast. The only sound in the room was the soft crackle of the fire and the faint clink as he set his empty glass down.
Damian moved behind his desk with ease. He opened a drawer and slid out a thick file, black leather, her name printed on the tab. Her real name. Not the one she'd used when she'd first infiltrated his world, not the one she thought would keep Lily safe.
Ava swallowed hard.
"Don't look so surprised," Damian murmured, flipping the file open. "I make it my business to know everything about the people around me."
He turned the file so it faced her and slid a stack of papers across the desk.
A contract.
Her name was printed at the top in bold, elegant letters. Legal clauses and subclauses, each one a chain disguised as ink.
She gripped the edge of the desk, fighting the urge to shove the papers away.
"You've been planning this," she whispered.
"I plan everything." His voice was quiet, almost kind, which somehow made it worse.
Her eyes skimmed the first paragraph. It spelt out in meticulous legal jargon the terms of their union: a marriage for appearance, to be maintained for a minimum of one year. She'd be required to live in his residence, attend public events at his side, adhere to a confidentiality clause so airtight it could suffocate her.
And, in exchange, Lily would be safe. Her protection is guaranteed. A life she couldn't provide on her own.
Her throat closed.
"You're a monster," she said softly.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Monsters don't give you contracts. They take what they want without permission."
Her stomach churned.
"You think this is permission?"
"I think this is survival."
His words hit her like a slap. She squeezed her eyes shut, Lily's face flashing behind her lids. Lily laughing. Lily promised everything would be okay.
A tremor ran through her hands as she reached for the pen beside the contract.
"Take your time," Damian said, though his eyes glinted with something like amusement. "Read it. Every word. I won't stop you."
She didn't read it. She couldn't. The black letters blurred as tears threatened to fall. She forced them down. She wouldn't give him that.
She signed.
The scratch of the pen on paper sounded louder than the crackling fire, louder than her heart pounding in her chest. When she was done, she dropped the pen like it had burned her.
Damian's gaze flicked to the signature, then back to her.
"Good," he murmured. "Now we're clear."
She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear the papers in half, throw them in his face, tell him she wasn't his pawn. But the contract sat there like a verdict.
"What's next?" she asked, her voice flat.
He rose from his chair, moving slowly, deliberately, like a predator that was stretching after a kill. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell the whiskey on his breath and the faint smell of his cologne.
"Next," he said softly, "I give you the first "
Ava lifted her chin to look him straight in the eye..
"Rule?"
"Yes." His eyes darkened. "This isn't a game, Ava. There are rules. Break them and there are consequences."
"What kind of rules?"
He leaned down, his hands braced on the arms of her chair, caging her in without touching her. His voice became low and meant for her ears alone.
"No lies," he said. "Ever. You don't hide from me, you don't keep secrets from me, and you don't run. I'll know if you do."
Her heart stuttered.
"And the second part?" she whispered.
She saw the glint that passed through her eyes and swallowed. Ava knew that she was going to hate this part.
"From this moment on, you belong to me. Every move you make, every choice, every breath...mine."
A shiver went down her spine. She hated herself for the way her body reacted; there was fear mixed with something darker, something she didn't want to name.
"Do you understand?" he asked.
"Yes," she breathed out, though the word felt like another surrender.
"Good."
He straightened, the tension that had risen between them breaking, leaving her gasping for air.
She looked at him, at the man who had just rewritten her life with a handful of papers and a few soft words, and for the first time she wondered if she'd made a deal she couldn't survive.
He watched her sign without flinching. He'd expected her to hesitate, to bargain, to fight but when the pen touched the paper, something inside him went still.
It was done.
She was his.
Not in the way tabloids would write it, not in the way marriage licenses usually meant. But in the way that mattered, a contract signed in desperation, inked with fear and survival.
He should have felt satisfaction. He should have felt the clean, cold victory he always did when a plan came together. Instead, as he watched her sit there, trembling but unbroken, he felt something heavier.
He'd seen that look before, in the mirror, years ago, when someone else had cornered him.
He shut the thought down before it could take root. He didn't have time for ghosts.
Maxwell's words echoed in his head from weeks earlier, when the file had first landed on his desk. She's reckless, sir. Desperate. But loyal.
He'd known then he wouldn't destroy her. Not yet. He'd known he'd use her, bend her, bring her under his roof and under his control until she couldn't tell where her freedom ended and his began.
And yet, looking at her now, he wondered if he'd underestimated what he'd taken.
She was fire wrapped in glass. And fire had a way of burning back.
He moved around the desk, standing over her. Her eyes lifted to his, wide but defiant, and for a heartbeat he saw not a pawn but an equal, a woman who might break his rules just to spite him.
Good.
Let her fight.
It would make breaking her all the sweeter.
"Get some rest," he said, his voice neutral again. "Tomorrow we announce our engagement."
Her face paled. "What?"
"You didn't think this was private, did you?" His mouth curved, not a smile but something sharper. "By this time tomorrow, the world will know you're mine."
He turned before she could answer, giving her his back, his control absolute.
But as he poured himself another drink, his hands tightened on the glass.
He wanted her obedience. He wanted her truth.
But what he wanted most, and what he would never admit, was to see what she would do next.
The door clicked softly behind him, the sound echoing in the study like the closing of a vault. The fire hissed and popped in the fireplace, but the room felt colder than before, like it had been stripped of oxygen.
Ava stared at the contract still lying on the desk. Her signature, black and sharp, bled across the bottom of the page like a wound. She'd signed it. She'd signed her life away.
Her hands trembled, but her breathing steadied as she pressed her palms flat on the polished wood. Lily's face floated before her eyes, the smile, the warmth, the only person she'd ever sworn to protect. That vow had cost her everything tonight. She had to find out what exactly happened to her sister and where this monster was keeping her.
Damian Cross thought he'd won. Thought the ink on that paper had turned her into a possession.
He was wrong.
Slowly, Ava straightened, her back stiff despite the trembling in her muscles. The firelight caught in her eyes as she stared at the papers again. The weight of what she'd done pressed on her chest, but beneath it, something unexpected flickered.
She would play the part. She would wear the ring, smile for the cameras, and stand at his side. She would be everything he needed her to be.
But she would never stop watching. Never stop waiting.
And when the time came, she'd make sure Damian Cross regretted underestimating her.
A faint, humourless smile touched her lips.
If he wanted a wife, he'd get one. But not the kind he thought.
Ava stood in the hallway of his mansion and let out a deep sigh. she ran her hand through her hair and closed her eyes, thinking about everything she had just done. she had to get home, take a bath, and rest. maybe her mind would become clearer them. "Good evening ma'am," she immediately became startled and turned to see a young woman standing behind her. the lady was dressed in a well tailored suit, her hair tied up neatly and a pleasant smile that felt fake on her face. "I'm Clara, I will be leading you to your room," the lady saidtheand Ava's eyes grew slightly wide. "the room? no, I think there , been some sort of mistake. " She immediately tried to clarify, but the smile still remained on the lady's face.
"Mr Cross have given instructions and has a room already ready for you to stay in. Everything you need has been placed there already. please come with me. " Before ava could say a word, she was walking away already. ava scoffed because she knew she couldn't leave now. she saw the security at the gate and one word from Damian she would be brought back in.
she had no choice but to follow after the lady, who led her up the stairs to a room. "Good night," She said and left quickly like she had walked away.
ava sighed deeply and sat on the soft bed. was this going to be her new life. she was more trapped than she had imagined.