The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the marble lobby of Knight Corporation.
Isabella Carter clutched a folder tightly against her chest, her palms damp with nervous sweat. She had delivered documents countless times before, but never here, never to him.
The Knight Corporation headquarters towered above the city like a monument to wealth and power. Inside, the air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and polished stone. Employees in sharp suits moved briskly across the lobby, their heels clicking against the pristine marble floor. None of them spared her more than a passing glance, but Isabella could feel the silent judgment anyway. She didn't belong here. Her simple blouse and worn flats stood out like a stain in this world of tailored suits and designer handbags.
Her supervisor's words echoed in her ears: "Take this to the CEO's office. Don't be late."
Her supervisor hadn't even met her eyes when handing over the folder, as if pitying her for being chosen. Isabella knew the truth—no one else dared face the Devil CEO. She had been the expendable choice.
She stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut with a hiss. The ride felt like an eternity. Every passing floor brought her closer to the top—to him.
Alexander Knight.
The name alone carried weight. The ruthless CEO. The man business rivals feared, employees avoided, and tabloids idolized as if he were untouchable royalty. They called him the Devil in a suit, and Isabella had never truly understood why until this moment—until she felt her own heartbeat hammering against her ribs at the thought of standing in front of him.
By the time the elevator reached the top floor, her knees were weak. The secretary outside his office glanced up from her computer, eyes cool and detached. After a long pause, she gestured toward the tall mahogany doors.
"Go in. He's waiting."
Waiting? For her? Isabella swallowed hard.
Her hands trembled as she pushed the doors open, stepping into a world of cold elegance. The office stretched out before her like a cathedral of power—glass walls that overlooked the entire city, dark wood polished to perfection, a faint aroma of leather and ink lingering in the air. Every detail screamed wealth and control.
Behind a sleek black desk sat the man himself.
Alexander Knight.
He looked up from a document, sharp gray eyes pinning her in place. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, suffocating, inescapable.
"You're late," he said, his voice smooth but laced with steel.
"I— I was just asked to deliver these, Mr. Knight," she stammered, setting the folder on his desk. Her voice sounded small in the vast room.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, studying her as though she were an insect that had dared crawl into his domain.
"Isabella Carter. Twenty-four. Graduate of Riverside University. Currently an assistant in the accounting department. Family debt… significant. Mother's health… deteriorating."
Her blood ran cold.
How did he—?
Alexander's lips curved, but the smile never reached his eyes. "Did you really think I wouldn't investigate the woman who barged into my office last week and spilled coffee on a three-million-dollar contract?"
Her cheeks flamed hot with humiliation. "That was an accident—"
He silenced her with a flick of his hand. "I don't believe in accidents. I believe in opportunities."
He slid a crisp white document across the desk toward her. The paper was heavy, embossed, the kind that smelled of wealth and finality.
"Sign this, and your family's debts will disappear. Your mother's medical bills will be taken care of. Refuse… and you'll watch everything you love crumble."
Isabella's gaze fell to the words on the page. They blurred before her eyes, her breath catching as though her lungs had turned to stone.
Marriage Contract.
Her throat tightened. "You can't be serious…"
Alexander rose from his chair, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the desk. His gaze was sharp, predatory, unyielding.
"Oh, I'm very serious." His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur. "You will marry me, Miss Carter. And from this moment on, your life belongs to me."
The weight of the contract pressed down on her like a mountain as Isabella stumbled into the elevator. The mirrored walls reflected her pale face, her wide, terrified eyes. She gripped her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Marriage? To him? Impossible. Ridiculous. And yet the reality gnawed at her like a relentless tide.
When she reached home that evening, the cruel contrast was enough to break her.
The apartment was small, its wallpaper peeling, its air faintly tinged with disinfectant. On the worn sofa sat her younger brother Liam, bent over his textbooks, his face too serious for someone his age. Their mother, Emily, lay in the bedroom, her weak coughs drifting through the thin walls.
"Bella!" Liam looked up, relief in his eyes. "Did you bring the medicine?"
She forced a smile and held up the paper bag. "Of course."
Her voice stayed steady, but her hands trembled. Inside the bag were the pills that kept their mother's condition from worsening—pills Isabella could barely afford.
The hospital had called earlier. Without immediate payment, her mother's treatment would be discontinued. The words still echoed in her skull, each one a knife.
Isabella sank onto the sofa, exhaustion crushing her bones. Her vision blurred as despair threatened to overwhelm her. She thought about the contract in her bag, the bold black letters that screamed Marriage Agreement.
Alexander Knight had promised security. Protection. Enough money to erase every debt.
But at what cost?
Her freedom. Her dignity. Her heart.
She pressed her palms to her face, silently begging herself not to cry. She couldn't. Not in front of Liam. Not when both he and their mother needed her to be strong.
As if mocking her, her phone buzzed. A message lit up the cracked screen.
From: Unknown NumberYou have twenty-four hours. Sign the contract—or watch everything you love crumble.
Her breath hitched. She didn't need to wonder who it was.
The Devil CEO.
That night, Isabella lay awake staring at the cracked ceiling, her body heavy with despair. Pride screamed at her not to bend, not to give herself to a man who saw her as a pawn. But desperation whispered louder.
She thought of her mother's labored breaths, of Liam's weary smile, of the endless bills piled high on the kitchen counter. She cried silently into her pillow, knowing deep down there was no escape.
Dawn came without mercy, the sky painted in pale gray. Miracles never arrived.
At sunrise, Isabella stood outside Knight Corporation once more, the unsigned contract clutched in her trembling hands. Her reflection in the glass doors looked nothing like the girl she once was—no longer carefree, no longer innocent. Just a pawn stepping willingly into the Devil's game.
She whispered to herself, "This is for Mom. This is for Liam. I can endure this."
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy doors and entered the lion's den.
Inside the office, Alexander was already waiting. His gaze flicked to the papers in her hand, a ghost of a smile curving his lips.
"So," he drawled, voice low and dangerous, "the little lamb has finally come back to the wolf."
Isabella's chest tightened, but she forced her chin up. She set the contract on his desk, her hand hovering over the pen.
"This changes nothing," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "I'll never love you."
Alexander leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear as his hand closed over hers, guiding the pen to the page.
"You don't need to love me, Isabella," he murmured. "You just need to be mine."
The pen scratched across the paper.
And with one trembling signature, Isabella Carter sealed her fate—binding herself to the Devil CEO.