The pen rolled across the table, a fragile sound against the storm outside. Lena's hand hovered uselessly, her chest tight, her throat burning with words she couldn't say.
Adrian Xu didn't move. He sat perfectly still, one hand resting on the contract, the other folded over his knee. His dark eyes stayed fixed on her like she was a cornered animal.
The rain pressed harder against the windows. The air inside the café felt too heavy to breathe.
Lena squeezed her fists in her lap, nails biting into her palms. I can't do this. I can't…
But then her mother's face came back to her—the pale lips, the frail body lying in the hospital bed, the machines keeping her alive. And she knew. She had no choice.
With trembling fingers, Lena picked up the pen again. The weight of it was unbearable.
"Sign it," Adrian said softly, his tone even but sharp as a blade.
She looked up at him, eyes burning. "Why me?" Her voice cracked, a whisper drowned by the storm. "You could have any woman. Why me?"
For the first time, something flickered in his gaze—something he quickly buried.
"Because," he said, leaning forward, "you owe me. And this time, you don't get to run."
Lena's chest constricted. A thousand memories clawed at her mind: the warmth in his eyes when they were younger, the night she walked away from him, the betrayal etched across his face.
Her breath shuddered. "This is revenge, isn't it?"
His silence was answer enough.
She lowered her eyes to the paper, the black letters swimming in her vision. The words Marriage Contract felt like a curse.
Her hand moved. The tip of the pen touched the paper. Her signature unfurled shakily across the line, each stroke carving her fate deeper into stone.
When the final letter was done, she dropped the pen. Her hand trembled as though she had just signed away her soul.
Adrian reached forward, calm, deliberate. He slid the contract back into the folder, his expression unreadable.
"It's done," he said.
Lena's heart hammered painfully. A wave of nausea twisted in her stomach.
"Is this what you wanted?" she whispered, barely able to look at him. "To see me broken?"
His jaw tightened. He stood, towering over her. "What I wanted," he said coldly, "was for you to finally understand what it feels like to lose everything."
Her throat closed. She bit her lip to keep from breaking in front of him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Adrian slid his briefcase shut and straightened his suit jacket. "The hospital will call you tomorrow morning. Your mother's treatment will resume. Consider this your… wedding gift."
A hollow laugh slipped from her lips, bitter and sharp. "Generous of you."
He leaned down, his face close enough for her to feel the cold edge of his presence. "Don't mistake this for generosity, Lena. You're mine now. And I don't let go of what's mine."
Her breath hitched, her body frozen.
Before she could reply, Adrian turned and walked away, his footsteps steady, his figure cutting through the storm outside as he disappeared into the night.
The café door swung shut behind him, leaving her in silence.
Lena sat there, staring at the empty chair across from her. The contract still burned in her mind, its ink etched into her future. She pressed her trembling hands to her face, her body shaking with the weight of what she had just done.
What have I agreed to?
---
The next morning, Lena woke to the shrill ring of her phone. For a brief moment, she hoped it had all been a nightmare. But the voice on the line proved otherwise.
"Miss Zhao? This is the hospital. We're resuming your mother's treatment immediately. The bills have been settled in full."
Relief crashed over her so hard it hurt. She sank onto the bed, clutching the phone with trembling fingers. "Thank you," she whispered.
But the relief was tainted by the memory of Adrian's words. You're mine now.
She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face against them. She should feel grateful—her mother had another chance. But instead, all she felt was a cold chain tightening around her neck.
---
That evening, a sleek black car pulled up outside her crumbling apartment building. Lena had barely stepped out of the stairwell when she saw it—a long, polished sedan, the kind that didn't belong in her rundown neighborhood.
The driver stepped out, bowing politely. "Miss Zhao. Mr. Xu is waiting."
Her stomach sank. "Waiting… where?"
The driver gestured to the backseat. The tinted window rolled down halfway, and there he was—Adrian, sharp suit, expression unreadable, eyes locked on her like he'd been watching all along.
"Get in," he said.
Lena froze. "Where are you taking me?"
His lips curved faintly, but it wasn't a smile. "To your new home, of course. Did you think marriage to me would mean you keep living here?"
Her chest constricted. "I haven't even—"
"You signed, Lena." His voice was silk and steel. "You belong with me now."
Her fists clenched at her sides. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to slam the door and lock herself in. But she thought of her mother, safe in her hospital bed, alive because of him.
Her steps faltered, then carried her forward. The driver opened the door, and she slid into the car. The leather seats smelled of wealth, of a world she no longer belonged to.
Adrian sat beside her, perfectly composed, not even glancing her way. Yet his presence filled the space, suffocating and magnetic.
Lena pressed herself against the door, her pulse racing. The car pulled away, her old neighborhood shrinking into the distance.
With every passing street, every turn toward the glittering skyline, she felt the last pieces of her freedom slipping away.
Adrian finally spoke, his tone calm, measured. "Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Xu."
Her heart stuttered painfully. The title was a knife, both surreal and cruel.
She turned to him, anger flaring despite the fear. "Don't call me that."
His eyes met hers, dark and unwavering. "Get used to it."
---
The city lights blurred outside the window as the car sped into the night. Lena sat rigid, torn between rage and despair. Across from her, Adrian Xu leaned back like a king who had just claimed his prize.
And she knew, with bone-deep certainty, that she had stepped into a game she couldn't win.
But she also knew this: she wouldn't let him break her completely.
Not again.