Aria's POV
Aria's heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought it might bruise. Marriage.
The word still hung in the air between them—absurd, impossible, suffocating.
"You're insane." Her voice cracked as she shook her head. "You can't mean that."
Leo didn't flinch. He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as though weighing a business deal, not tearing her life apart.
"Insanity," he said smoothly, "is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. I don't make mistakes, Aria. I make choices. And I've already chosen you."
Her knees weakened. She wanted to run—bolt for the door like that night at the hotel—but her body refused to move, trapped under the weight of his gaze.
"Chosen me?" Her laugh came out thin and bitter. "You don't even know me."
Something flickered in his eyes—amusement, interest, something darker she couldn't name.
"I know enough."
Her hands curled into fists. "I won't do it. I don't care what you say, or what the tabloids print, or what your money can buy. I'm not marrying you."
Silence stretched, taut as wire. Then Leo rose to his feet.
The air shifted. He didn't just stand—he loomed. Height, precision, sunlight sliding over his suit as though even the room bent toward him. Everything about him pressed down until she felt small, cornered.
He circled the desk slowly. Each step echoed in her chest.
"You think you have a choice," he murmured, stopping a breath away. His cologne wrapped around her—rich, intoxicating—dragging her back to heat and skin and that night she kept trying to forget.
"I do have a choice," she snapped, though her voice trembled.
His lips curved, not into a smile but something colder.
"No. You don't."
The finality in his tone stole the air from her lungs.
"You can't control me," she forced out.
"Control?" He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he intended to solve piece by piece. "No, Aria. This isn't control. It's inevitability."
Her pulse raced. "You're out of your mind if you think I'll—"
"Look outside." His voice cut through hers like a blade.
"What?"
"Look." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Reluctantly, she turned.
Far below, cars crawled like ants. Billboards flashed. Life went on.
And then she saw it.
Her name.
Her photograph.
On a massive digital screen towering over the street—grainy, blown up, unmistakably her face.
Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Blackwell's Hotel Suite.
Her stomach lurched.
"This… no." Her voice broke. "No, no, no…"
"They'll eat you alive," Leo said quietly behind her. His tone wasn't cruel—it was calm, certain, like a weather report predicting rain. "Every blog. Every gossip site. Every desperate reporter. You're a story now, Aria. A scandal. And scandals don't fade quietly."
Tears pricked her eyes. "You could end this. One word from you—one statement—and it all goes away."
"I could," he agreed, stepping closer until his reflection merged with hers in the glass. "But I won't."
She spun, fury cutting through her panic. "Why? Why would you let me suffer like this?"
His eyes darkened, voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I told you. You're mine."
Her breath hitched.
"I won't let the world chew you up and spit you out," he continued, gaze unrelenting. "Not when I can protect you. But protection has a price. And the price… is marriage."
The word crushed the air between them.
Aria shook her head violently. "No. Absolutely not. I'd rather lose my job, my reputation—everything—than chain myself to you."
"Would you?" His voice sharpened, silk over steel. "Think carefully. Your mother works two jobs so you could have the opportunities she never had. Your younger brother just got into university. What happens when the press digs into their lives? When they're hounded because of you?"
Her chest constricted. "Stop."
But he didn't. He stepped closer, his presence suffocating.
"Do you think they'll survive the spotlight? Do you think they'll still look at you the same when every filthy rumor attaches itself to your name—and theirs?"
Her throat closed.
"That's what's coming," he said softly, almost gently. "Unless you let me stop it."
Her back hit the edge of his desk. No escape.
She trembled as he reached past her and picked up a sleek black folder.
He set it down between them with deliberate weight.
A contract.
Aria stared at it as if it were a loaded gun.
"What is that?" she whispered.
Leo's eyes locked onto hers. "Your salvation. Our marriage contract."
And with terrifying calm, he pushed it toward her.
"Sign it, Aria," he murmured. "Or watch the world destroy you."