The pen looked ordinary.
Slim, silver, gleaming against the dark surface of Adrian Vega's desk. But to Elena, it felt heavier than a weapon.
She stood frozen, her fingers trembling as she stared at the stack of papers before her, a marriage contract disguised as a business transaction.
"Sit down," Adrian said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Elena didn't move. "You can't possibly expect me to..."
"I don't expect," he interrupted smoothly, circling behind his desk. "I demand."
The words landed like ice. He wasn't bluffing.
Her gaze darted across the pages, legal clauses, property terms, media arrangements, even a section outlining behavioral expectations. It was all there in black and white, detailed like a merger deal.
Her marriage, reduced to a transaction.
"What is this?" she whispered, voice shaking.
"A contract," Adrian replied, his eyes glinting with something between mockery and pain. "One that ensures we both get what we want."
She scoffed. "And what is it you want, Adrian? To humiliate me?"
He didn't flinch. "To remind you what it feels like to lose control."
The air between them crackled with memory, the ghost of what they used to be. The lovers who whispered promises under city lights now stood as adversaries, circling the ruins of their past.
Elena forced herself to meet his gaze. "You're doing this out of revenge."
Adrian leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth curving. "Call it… restitution."
Her pulse raced. "You left me without a word."
"And your father destroyed everything I built," he shot back, voice hardening. "My company, my reputation, all gone because of his greed. You think walking away was easy? I had nothing."
She blinked, stunned. "You think I knew what he did?"
"I think you knew enough," he said coldly. "You carried his name, his pride, his lies. Now, you'll carry mine."
Elena's throat tightened. "You're sick."
"No," Adrian said, standing slowly, towering over her. "I'm disciplined. That's what it takes to survive betrayal."
He moved closer, his presence suffocating. "You'll live in my house, attend my functions, wear my ring. You'll smile for the cameras, and you'll make the world believe we're in love."
"And behind closed doors?" she challenged.
His gaze darkened. "Behind closed doors, you'll remember who's in control."
Her hand flew before she could stop it.
The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the office.
Adrian's head snapped slightly to the side. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that comes right before a storm.
Then he smiled. Slow. Dangerous.
"You always had a temper," he said softly, touching his cheek. "Let's see if pride can feed your mother."
Her breath caught. He'd gone too far, dragging her mother into this.
"You're a monster," she whispered again.
"Monsters keep their promises," he replied. "Your family's debts will be cleared. Your mother's medical care, guaranteed. All you have to do… is sign."
Elena's knees felt weak. She sank into the leather chair across from him, her mind a blur of desperation and disbelief.
Her father's last words echoed in her head, Take care of your mother, no matter what happens.
She'd already lost everything once. She couldn't lose her family too.
But this… this wasn't salvation. It was surrender.
Adrian slid the pen toward her, his movements calm, almost gentle. "You have twenty-four hours. Then I withdraw the offer, and the Cruz estate will be auctioned by Monday."
She stared at the pen. It gleamed under the office lights, like a blade waiting to draw blood.
"Why me?" she asked quietly. "You could have anyone."
He paused, his expression unreadable. "Because no one else makes me remember."
Her heart twisted. For a fleeting moment, she saw it, the ghost of the boy who once loved her. The one who used to hold her hand and swear he'd never become like their fathers.
But that boy was gone. And the man before her was built on ruin.
Elena stood abruptly, tears stinging her eyes. "You think this will make you happy?"
"No," Adrian said. "But it will make me whole."
She turned to leave, but he added quietly, "If you walk out that door, I'll make sure there's nothing left to walk back to."
His words stopped her mid-step.
Her breath trembled. "You wouldn't."
"I already have," he said simply, reaching for his phone. "One call, Elena. That's all it takes."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Finally, she whispered, "You're everything I prayed you'd never become."
He didn't reply. He just looked at her, not with hatred, but with something deeper, something broken.
That night, Elena walked through the empty corridors of her mother's small apartment, her thoughts a storm she couldn't escape.
Her mother's laughter drifted faintly from the next room, weak, but still warm.
Elena stood in the doorway, watching her sleep. The frail woman who once ruled charity galas now lay surrounded by medicine bottles and unpaid bills.
She couldn't let her lose what little peace remained.
Not because of her father.
Not because of pride.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
From: A.V.
Tick-tock, Elena.
She exhaled shakily, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"You win," she whispered to no one.
The next morning, she walked back into Vega Tower, head high, heart breaking.
The receptionist didn't speak this time. She didn't have to. Everyone already knew.
When the elevator doors opened, Adrian was waiting, impeccably dressed, unreadable as ever.
"You came back," he said.
"I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," he said quietly. "You just didn't like the alternatives."
Elena took the pen from his desk without a word. Her hands trembled as she signed her name, each stroke cutting through the last piece of freedom she had left.
When she finished, she pushed the papers toward him. "There. Happy?"
Adrian's eyes flicked down to her signature, then back up to her face.
"Ecstatic," he said softly.
He reached for the contract, his fingers brushing hers, deliberate, cold, final.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Vega," he murmured. "Your debt is paid."
Elena swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Don't call me that."
His smirk deepened. "Then what should I call you?"
"Your mistake."
She turned to leave. But before she could take another step, his voice caught her again, calm, commanding, lethal.
"Be ready tomorrow. The wedding's at noon."
Her heart stuttered. "Tomorrow?"
He smiled. "Why wait to collect what's mine?"
The elevator doors closed behind her with a soft hiss, sealing her fate.
And for the first time since she'd returned to Singapore, Elena Cruz realized she wasn't just paying her father's debts.
She was stepping into a prison built from love and vengeance, and Adrian Vega held the only key.