The hospital room smelled like flowers and death.
Sophia Chen sat beside her grandmother's bed, holding the old woman's paper-thin hand. Gran was sleeping now, her breathing shallow and steady. The doctors said she had maybe two weeks left. Two weeks to say goodbye to the woman who raised her, who taught her to be tough, who showed her that the world didn't care about your feelings—only your profits.
Sophia's phone buzzed. Another email from her rival's company. Ethan Blake had just outbid her on a real estate deal in Manhattan. Again. For the seventh time this year.
She was about to reply when her grandmother's eyes opened.
"Sophie." Gran's voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm here, Gran. Don't talk. Just rest."
"No." Gran squeezed her hand with surprising strength. "I need to tell you something. Before it's too late."
Sophia leaned closer. Gran had always been dramatic, but this was different. She looked almost... guilty.
"When you were born," Gran continued, "your parents were struggling. Money was tight. The Blakes—you know, old money family—they offered me a deal. They said if you married their grandson someday, they'd help us. They'd make sure you'd never struggle."
Sophia froze. "Gran... what are you talking about?"
"I signed papers, Sophie. Ten years ago. An arrangement. A contract that said you and Ethan Blake would marry by the time you turned twenty-eight." Gran coughed. "You're twenty-seven now."
The room started spinning.
"I thought it was crazy," Gran continued. "But then you two met at university and became enemies, and I thought, maybe it won't matter. Maybe you'd fall in love with someone else and I'd just pay the penalty clause."
"Gran!" Sophia stood up, letting go of her hand. "This is insane! You can't just arrange my life like I'm some kind of... business asset!"
"I know, I know. I've regretted it for years." Gran's eyes got watery. "But now I'm dying, and I haven't told you, and the clause is about to activate. If you don't marry him within the next month, you lose everything, Sophie. The company your father built. The inheritance. Everything."
Sophia's head was pounding. "What if I just don't do it? What if I let it happen?"
"Then Ethan Blake's company will absorb yours. They have that option in the contract. Everything you've worked for—gone."
Sophia walked to the window. Outside, New York City glittered with money and ambition. She'd built her company from nothing in seven years. She'd fought Ethan Blake at every turn. She'd won more deals than she'd lost. And now her grandmother was telling her it was all going to fall apart because of some ancient contract?
"I need to see the papers," Sophia said quietly.
"They're in my safe. The lawyer has copies too. His name is Mr. Harrison. He'll contact you."
As if on cue, Sophia's phone rang. Unknown number.
"Is this Sophia Chen?" a formal voice asked.
"Yes?"
"This is Richard Harrison, executor of the Chen family trust. I'm calling because your grandmother has authorized me to inform you of certain arrangements made ten years ago..."
Sophia hung up.
She looked back at her grandmother, still lying in that hospital bed, looking smaller and more fragile than ever.
"Does he know?" Sophia asked. "Ethan?"
"His grandfather contacted his father years ago. I assume Ethan knows."
Of course he did. Of course Ethan Blake knew she was contractually bound to marry him, and he'd never said a word. He'd probably been laughing about it the whole time they competed against each other.
Sophia's hands clenched into fists.
"I'm going to kill you, Gran," she said, not meaning it. "After you get better, I'm going to kill you."
Gran smiled weakly. "That's my girl."
---
Sophia didn't go to the office the next day. Instead, she sat in her apartment, reading the contract her grandmother's lawyer sent her. Every word was a punch to the gut.
The agreement was airtight. Dated ten years ago. Signed by both families. If she married Ethan Blake within thirty days of her twenty-eighth birthday, she'd receive her full inheritance. If she didn't, or if she divorced him within five years, everything went to his family's foundation.
Five years.
She had to stay married to Ethan Blake for five years.
The doorbell rang at 8 PM. Sophia wasn't expecting anyone. When she opened the door, Ethan Blake was standing there in a tailored gray suit, looking like he'd just walked out of a magazine shoot. His dark eyes were amused.
"We need to talk," he said, pushing past her into her apartment.
"How did you get past security?"
"I own this building, remember?" He had the nerve to smile. "I bought it two years ago. You've been paying rent to me this whole time."
Sophia's jaw dropped. Of course he had. Of course she'd been making him money.
"So," Ethan said, sitting on her couch like he owned that too. "Looks like we're getting married."
"Not a chance."
"You'd rather lose your company?"
"I'd rather die."
Ethan leaned back, completely relaxed. "Well, that's not an option. And neither is rejecting this. Your grandmother's lawyer already contacted my father. The contract's being activated." He pulled out his phone, showing her a legal document. "We have twenty-nine days to get married, or you lose everything."
Sophia sat down slowly. This was really happening.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Then we need to talk about what this marriage actually looks like."
Ethan's smile widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."
**What was he planning?**