VIVI'S POV
I stare at the anonymous text threatening me.
Someone knows I'm Aria Chen. Someone is watching me. And they sent this message minutes after I signed Damien's contract.
Which means either someone hacked my phone again, or someone is in this building right now.
I stand up fast, looking around the empty penthouse. The floor-to-ceiling windows suddenly feel like they're exposing me instead of showing me the city. Anyone with binoculars could be watching from the buildings across the street.
My phone rings. I jump.
Victor's name flashes on the screen.
"Did you sign it?" he asks the second I answer.
"Yes."
"Vivi—"
"I know. It was stupid. But I'm already in too deep to back out now." I walk to the window, keeping my voice low even though I'm alone. "Someone just sent me a threatening text. They know I'm Aria Chen. They know I'm investigating."
"Damien?"
"No. Someone else. The message said they're watching my every move."
Victor swears. "Get out of there. Now. Come to my office. We need to—"
The elevator dings.
My heart stops.
Someone's coming up. The penthouse elevator only goes to this floor. Which means whoever's in it is coming here.
"Victor, I have to go," I whisper.
"Vivi, don't—"
I hang up and slide my phone into my pocket. My eyes scan the room for weapons. A heavy glass sculpture on the table. A letter opener on the desk. Not much, but better than nothing.
The elevator doors open.
Damien steps out, followed by three men in expensive suits. Lawyers, I'm guessing from their identical briefcases and serious expressions.
"Still here?" Damien looks surprised to see me. "I thought my driver took you home."
"I needed a minute to think."
"Well, think faster. We have work to do." He gestures to the lawyers. "Gentlemen, this is Vivienne Laurent. My fiancée. Vivienne, these are my lawyers. They're here to make our arrangement official."
The lawyers don't smile. They just nod and start setting up papers on Damien's dining table.
"I thought we already signed," I say.
"That was a preliminary agreement," one of the lawyers explains. "This is the legal marriage contract. More detailed. More binding."
More binding. Great.
Damien pulls me aside while the lawyers work. His hand on my elbow is firm but not rough.
"You look pale," he says quietly. "Having second thoughts?"
"Someone sent me a threatening text." I show him my phone.
His jaw tightens as he reads it. "When?"
"Five minutes ago."
"From who?"
"I don't know. But they know about Aria Chen. They know I'm investigating."
Damien's eyes go cold. Dangerous. "Give me your phone."
I hand it over. He does something with it—I can't see what—then hands it back.
"I just installed security software. If anyone tries to hack you again, I'll know. And I'll trace them." He looks at me seriously. "From now on, you don't go anywhere without security. Understood?"
"I don't need a babysitter."
"You need to stay alive," he snaps. "Someone is threatening you. That makes you a liability. And I don't invest in liabilities."
"How romantic," I mutter.
His lips twitch. Almost a smile. "Romance isn't in the contract, remember?"
Before I can respond, one of the lawyers calls us over.
"We're ready for signatures," he says.
The new contract is even thicker than the first one. I start reading, but there are so many legal terms my head spins.
"Page fifteen," Damien says. "That's the important part."
I flip to page fifteen. It's the compensation clause. The amount makes my eyes water. Enough money to save Laurent Tech three times over. Enough to make me rich for life.
"This is too much," I whisper.
"No. It's exactly what you're worth." Damien picks up a pen. "I don't do anything halfway, Vivienne. When I invest in something, I invest completely. You're going to save my company. This is your payment."
"But what if I can't find the traitor? What if I fail?"
"You won't." He says it with complete certainty. "I've seen your work. You found three executives that entire corporations missed. You'll find my traitor too."
His confidence in me is unexpected. Strange. It makes something warm bloom in my chest that I immediately try to kill.
This is business. Nothing more.
I sign the contract. So does Damien. The lawyers witness and notarize everything.
"Congratulations," one of them says with zero emotion. "You're now legally engaged. The marriage license will be filed tomorrow. The ceremony is scheduled for Saturday at the Plaza Hotel. Two hundred guests. Full media coverage."
My stomach drops. "Two hundred guests?"
"I told you," Damien says. "This has to look real. Which means a real wedding. My assistant will send you the schedule."
The lawyers pack up and leave. I stand in the middle of Damien's penthouse, feeling like I just signed my life away.
Which I probably did.
"One more thing," Damien says, walking to a safe hidden behind a painting. He pulls out a small box. "You'll need this."
He opens the box. Inside is a ring.
Not just any ring. The most beautiful engagement ring I've ever seen. A massive diamond surrounded by smaller stones, set in platinum. It probably costs more than my car.
"Give me your hand," he says.
I hold out my left hand. It's shaking slightly.
Damien slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
"How did you know my size?" I ask.
"I know everything about you, Vivienne. Your ring size. Your shoe size. Your coffee order. The fact that you hate roses but love orchids. That you read financial reports for fun and watch terrible reality TV when you're stressed."
I stare at him. "You've been stalking me."
"I've been researching my investment." He doesn't let go of my hand. His thumb brushes over the ring, adjusting it slightly. "From now on, you wear this ring every day. You tell everyone we're in love. You smile when people congratulate you. You play the part perfectly. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Good." He finally releases my hand. "My driver will take you home now. Pack everything you need. You're moving in here tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow? That's too fast—"
"The wedding is in six days. We need to appear established as a couple. That means living together." He walks to his desk and pulls out a credit card. "Use this for anything you need. Clothes. Shoes. Whatever women buy. There's no limit."
I take the card, feeling numb.
"One more thing," Damien says as I head for the elevator. "Julian and Gianna's engagement party is tomorrow night. At the Plaza. Your father and stepmother will be there."
The knife twists in my heart. Of course they're having a party. Of course my family will celebrate Gianna stealing my life.
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask.
Damien's smile is cold. Calculated. "Because we're going too. As the newly engaged couple. We're going to walk in there together, with you wearing that ring and looking happier than Gianna has ever seen you."
"You want to crash their party?"
"I want to make a statement. That you're mine now. That you've moved on to something much better. That they're all beneath you." He pauses. "Unless you're too scared to face them?"
It's a challenge. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"I'm not scared of them," I say.
"Good. Wear red. Something that makes you look powerful. We leave at seven."
I step into the elevator. As the doors close, I see Damien watching me with an expression I can't read.
The ride down feels like falling.
When I get to the lobby, Damien's driver is waiting. He opens the car door without speaking. I slide into the back seat.
My phone buzzes.
Another text from the unknown number:
"Enjoy your new ring, Aria. But don't get too comfortable. Damien Cross destroys everything he touches. Ask his last three girlfriends. Oh wait—you can't. They disappeared after they left him. Vanished completely. You're playing with fire. And you're going to burn. -A Friend"
My hands go cold.
I search on my phone: "Damien Cross ex-girlfriends."
The results make my blood freeze.
Three women. All dated Damien. All broke up with him publicly.
And all three disappeared from public life completely afterward. No social media. No job listings. No public appearances.
It's like they never existed.
I scroll further. Find a gossip article from two years ago: "Where Are They Now? Damien Cross's Ex-Girlfriends Vanish After Messy Breakups."
The article speculates. Were they paid off? Threatened? Something worse?
Nobody knows.
I look down at the massive diamond on my finger.
What have I gotten myself into?
And what happens to me when this year is over and Damien Cross is done with me?
The car pulls up to my apartment building.
I get out, my mind racing.
Victor is waiting in the lobby. His face is pale.
"We need to talk," he says. "Now. I found something about Damien Cross. Something bad."
"How bad?"
"The kind of bad that means you might not survive this marriage."
He pulls me into the stairwell where no one can hear us.
"I dug deeper into Damien's past," Victor says urgently. "His parents' murder. The closed investigation. I found the detective who worked the case. He's retired now. Living in Florida. I called him."
"And?"
"He said the case was closed by order of someone very powerful. Someone who didn't want the truth coming out. And when I asked who, he said one name before hanging up on me."
"Who?"
Victor's voice drops to a whisper.
"Adrian Cross. Damien's uncle. The detective said Adrian Cross is the one who shut down the murder investigation. Which means—"
"Adrian killed Damien's parents," I finish, my mind reeling.
"And Damien doesn't know. Or he does know and he's been planning revenge for fourteen years." Victor grabs my shoulders. "Either way, you're caught in the middle of a family war. And people in the middle of wars don't survive."
My phone buzzes again.
This time it's not a text. It's a photo.
Of me. Standing in Damien's penthouse. Talking to him by the window.
Taken from outside. From another building.
Som
eone was watching me the whole time.
The caption reads: "Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Cross. You're being watched. Always."