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Lena stared at the thick stack of papers in front of her. The silence in Damien Blackwood's office felt heavier than the contract itself.
"No touching unless necessary," he began, voice sharp like his perfectly tailored suit. "No sleeping in the same bed. No falling in love."
She scoffed quietly. "Trust me, that won't be a problem."
Damien didn't smile. He just kept going, like he was reading a grocery list. "You'll attend family events. We'll live together—my place, not yours. You'll wear the ring at all times. And if you break the agreement, there are penalties."
"Penalties?" she echoed.
"Financial, of course. But you'll get the full payment after the year ends—if you keep your part of the deal."
Lena looked down at the contract. Her hands trembled, but she didn't let him see. This wasn't love. It wasn't even kindness. It was survival dressed in a suit.
She picked up the pen, hesitated, then signed her name on the dotted line.
Damien reached over and signed next to her, his movements clean and cold. "We're married now."
"No vows?" she asked, trying to lighten the air.
He looked at her, unreadable. "You don't need vows in a business deal."
She stood up, the weight of her choice pressing on her chest. "When do I move in?"
"Tomorrow," he said. "My driver will pick you up. Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Blackwood."
As she walked out of the office, the diamond ring on her finger sparkled in the sunlight.
It was beautiful.
And completely meaningless.
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