The crystal decanter caught the light as Enzo tilted it, the amber scotch cascading smoothly into two glasses. His movements were deliberate, unhurried like a predator with all the time in the world. The sound of liquid meeting crystal was sharp in the silence, filling the space between them with a weight Eva couldn't ignore.
She sat frozen in the chair opposite him, her hands folded tightly in her lap to stop their trembling. The penthouse suite was too quiet, the hum of the city muffled by the floor to ceiling glass windows. Here, in his world, she always felt small like a moth trapped in the glow of something much more dangerous than fire.
Enzo placed the decanter back on the table with a soft clink. He slid one glass toward her, but she didn't touch it. His lips curved faintly, a gesture that wasn't quite a smile.
"I've prepared something for you," he said, his voice smooth as the liquor he swirled.
Something cold settled in Eva's stomach. He hadn't asked her to come here just for a drink. He never did anything without intention.
Her eyes flicked to the sleek black folder he pulled from beside him and placed between them. The leather gleamed under the dim light, neat, commanding, impossible to ignore. It sat there like a loaded gun on the table.
Her throat tightened. "What… is that?"
Enzo leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily along the armrest, the other cradling his glass. He looked perfectly at ease, but his gaze icy silver, unyielding remained locked on her.
"A solution," he murmured, savoring the word. "One you can't afford to refuse."
The way he said it made her pulse race faster. Her gaze returned to the folder. She didn't want to touch it, but she couldn't look away.
With slow, hesitant fingers, she opened it.
Inside lay the contract. Stark words printed in black ink. Clauses and conditions that bled authority. It was all there, her fate condensed into neat paragraphs, her freedom written out in sterile legal language.
Three months. Exclusive. No questions.
Her breath caught. It wasn't just an offer. It wasn't kindness. It was ownership.
She looked up at him, her chest tight. "You can't be serious."
Enzo's brows arched slightly, as if amused she still doubted. "I don't play games with things I want, Eva."
Her fingers curled against the edge of the table. "You want to keep me like some… possession."
The faintest flicker of a smirk touched his mouth, and it chilled her more than if he had shouted. "Don't pretend you didn't know from the beginning what this was. You came to me. You needed me. I gave you more than anyone else ever could."
His words cut, not because they were lies, but because they were laced with a brutal truth. He had given her money, stability, safety for Noah. But every gift was wrapped in chains.
"I don't belong to you," she whispered fiercely, though her voice trembled.
"You already do." His tone was flat, dangerous. "This only makes it official."
Her breath faltered. She lowered her gaze to the contract again.
If she signed, it meant survival. It meant Noah's tuition, his meals, his safety. He would never have to know the depth of her desperation. But if she signed… she would belong to Enzo, body and soul, for three endless months.
Her hand shook as she turned the page. Each clause felt heavier than the last. No questions. No refusal. No escape.
Finally, she couldn't bear it. She lifted her gaze to his, raw pain spilling from her eyes. "Why me?"
The silence stretched, long enough that her heart pounded louder in her ears. Enzo leaned forward, resting his glass down. His eyes, glinting with steel, softened just barely at the edges.
"Because you're the only one who hasn't lied to me."
The answer hit harder than any cruelty. She didn't want to matter to him like this. She didn't want to be chosen for honesty that had trapped her instead of freed her.
Her throat ached. She wanted to scream at him, to push the contract back in his face, to run far enough that he could never touch her again. But then Noah's face flashed in her mind his smile, his small hands clutching hers, the way he relied on her for everything.
She couldn't risk his future. She couldn't gamble with his life.
Her fingers hovered above the pen Enzo had placed neatly by the folder. Her vision blurred, but she forced herself to pick it up.
"Eva," Enzo said lowly, her name curling in the air like smoke. She froze.
His voice dropped to something rougher, almost intimate. "This isn't just about survival. You know it. I know it. You've been mine from the moment you walked into that club. This only proves it."
Her chest heaved, a sob fighting its way up, but she swallowed it down. She couldn't let him see her break not more than he already had.
The tip of the pen touched the paper. Her hand trembled violently as she scrawled her name across the page. The letters blurred as tears welled, one finally spilling free and landing on the contract. A small, perfect stain against the neat black ink.
She dropped the pen.
The room felt heavier, as though her signature had shifted the very air.
Enzo reached for the contract, his movements slow, deliberate. His fingers brushed the damp spot her tear had left, and for the first time, his expression faltered. Just a flicker.
Then, with a gesture that made her breath hitch, he lifted the page to his lips. He pressed them against her trembling signature, sealing it with a kiss.
Her chest constricted painfully. It wasn't tenderness. It wasn't love. It was a vow, a mark, a silent declaration that she was his whether she wanted to be or not.
Eva stared at him, her body rigid, her heart shattering quietly inside her chest.
Three months. No questions. At the end, she could walk away rich. That's what the paper promised.
But the truth whispered in the silence as Enzo's silver eyes burned into hers.
There would be no walking away.
Not from him.
Not ever.