Elena Carter had always believed she was strong enough to face anything life threw her way. She had survived growing up with a reckless father who treated money like a game of cards and her mother like collateral. She had worked three jobs during college, swallowed her pride countless times, and learned to carry the weight of responsibility on her shoulders when she should have been out laughing with friends her age. But nothing absolutely nothing could have prepared her for the letter in her trembling hands that morning.
Her eyes blurred as she stared at the black print.
FINAL NOTICE: Carter Household. Amount Due: $750,000. Failure to pay will result in legal seizure of property and assets.
Her chest tightened. Seven hundred and fifty thousand. The number might as well have been a billion. She didn't have it. Her family didn't have it. And her father, the one who had gambled away their savings, was long gone probably drowning in whiskey in some unknown corner of the city.
A soft cough pulled her back to reality.
"Elena…" Her mother's weak voice floated from the bedroom. Margaret Carter had been diagnosed with a heart condition two months ago, and the hospital bills were merciless. Elena rushed into the room, forcing a smile she didn't feel.
"I'm here, Mom." She smoothed down the thin blanket covering her mother's frail body.
"You haven't eaten, have you? I can tell by your face."
"I'm fine," Elena lied. She had no appetite. How could she, when the weight of debt and despair threatened to crush her every waking second?
Her mother's hand brushed against hers. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Things will get better. They always do."
Elena's throat tightened. No, Mom. They don't always get better. Sometimes, they get worse.
A sharp knock at the door startled her. Elena opened it to find two men in black suits standing on the porch. They looked more like bodyguards than debt collectors, their expressions impassive, almost intimidating.
"Miss Elena Carter?" one of them asked.
"Yes?"
"You are requested to come with us. Mr. Blackwood wishes to see you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Mr. Blackwood? Who… who is that?"
"You'll know when you meet him."
The way he said it sent a chill down her spine. She wanted to refuse, to slam the door and lock it, but deep inside, a small voice whispered: This could be the chance. The only chance.
She looked back at her mother, who had drifted back to sleep, unaware of the storm raging outside. Elena squared her shoulders and followed the men.
---
The car they ushered her into was sleek and black, its leather seats more comfortable than anything she had ever owned. The city blurred past the tinted windows as they drove in silence. Elena's nerves coiled tighter with every passing second.
When the car finally stopped, she looked out and gasped.
The Blackwood Tower. Everyone in the city knew it: the tallest skyscraper downtown, home to Blackwood Enterprises, one of the most powerful corporations in the country. She had no business being here.
Unless…
Her stomach twisted as the men led her through the gleaming lobby, past polished marble floors and chandeliers that sparkled like captured stars. The receptionist didn't even glance at her; clearly, people like her didn't belong in this world of power and wealth.
They ushered her into a private elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. Her pulse raced. Whoever this "Mr. Blackwood" was, he wasn't just rich, he was untouchable.
When the elevator doors slid open, Elena stepped into a world of glass and steel. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, and in the center of the room stood a massive desk of dark mahogany. Behind it sat a man.
He looked up as they entered, and for a moment, Elena forgot how to breathe.
Damian Blackwood.
She had heard the name whispered before in news articles, in the hushed gossip of coworkers at her café job, in stories that painted him as both a genius and a monster. A billionaire CEO who had built an empire from the ashes of his family's fortune. Ruthless, brilliant, and utterly cold.
And now, he was staring at her with eyes as sharp and dark as obsidian.
"Elena Carter," he said, his voice deep and smooth, laced with authority. "Sit."
Her knees wobbled as she crossed the room and sat in the leather chair across from him. The bodyguards exited, leaving them alone. Silence thickened the air.
"You must be wondering why you're here."
"Yes…" Her voice came out smaller than she intended.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her like a predator sizing up prey. "Your father owes me money. A lot of money."
Her heart stopped. "You? You're the one who..."
"Yes. Henry Carter borrowed heavily from me and lost it all. As of last week, the debt stands at seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars." His gaze didn't waver. "And since your father has conveniently disappeared, that debt falls to you."
Elena's lips parted, but no sound came out. She clenched her fists under the desk to stop herself from trembling.
"I… I don't have that kind of money," she whispered.
"I know." His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Which is why I'm offering you an alternative."
Her stomach dropped. Something about the way he said it made her feel like a rabbit caught in the fox's den. "What… what kind of alternative?"
Damian opened a drawer and slid a thick folder across the desk. "A contract."
Elena's breath caught. "What kind of contract?"
"A marriage contract."
The room tilted around her. "Marriage? You mean… you want me to.."
"To marry me." His tone was matter-of-fact, as though he were discussing a business merger. "One year. In name only. You'll attend functions with me, play the role of Mrs. Blackwood, and in return, your family's debt disappears."
Elena gaped at him, speechless.
"You think I'm joking?" His eyes narrowed. "Look at the contract."
Her hands shook as she opened the folder. The words blurred at first, but she forced herself to read. The terms were clear: one year of marriage, no divorce, no scandals, no love required. At the end, she would walk away debt-free.
"This… this is insane." Her voice cracked. "You can't just buy someone's life like this!"
"I can. And I just did."
Elena's chest heaved. "Why me? Out of all the women in the world, why me?"
Damian's gaze hardened. "Because I need someone who won't expect love. Someone desperate enough to sign without question. Someone disposable."
Her eyes burned with humiliation, but beneath it flickered anger. Disposable. That's what he saw her as a tool, a pawn.
"I won't do it," she said, though her voice trembled. "I'd rather..."
"Think carefully." His voice was silk over steel. "Your mother's hospital bills… do you think charity will cover them forever? The creditors are circling your house as we speak. Sign this contract, and I erase it all. Walk away, and you'll lose everything."
Her breath hitched. Her mother. The debts. The impossible weight pressing down on her.
Tears pricked her eyes as she whispered, "This isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair," Damian said coldly. "But it offers opportunities. This is yours."
For a long moment, the only sound was her ragged breathing. Then, with hands that trembled so hard she could barely hold the pen, Elena signed her name on the dotted line.
Damian's eyes gleamed as he took the folder back, his expression unreadable.
"Welcome to hell, Mrs. Blackwood."
And in that moment, Elena knew she had sold her freedom to the devil himself.