Chapter 1: Fired and Humiliated
The boardroom was suffocating. The long mahogany table stretched like a battlefield, polished so perfectly that the fluorescent lights reflected every face twisted in false sympathy.
At the head sat Adrian Blackwood, the infamous CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. Cold eyes the color of obsidian, a jaw carved sharper than steel, and an aura that silenced every whisper in the room. His presence alone commanded obedience—except today, that obedience was being turned against him.
The board of directors had voted.
"Effective immediately," an old director announced with smug satisfaction, "Adrian Blackwood is stripped of his executive powers. The shareholders demand stability, not reckless ambition."
The words echoed like a gavel striking a coffin.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable, but his fingers tapped once against the polished wood. He did not beg. He did not explain. He was a man who had built empires from ashes—yet for the first time, his empire crumbled under him.
The boardroom doors slammed shut behind him, and the sound of muffled laughter followed him into the corridor.
---
He walked out of the skyscraper, coat draped casually over his arm, but each step was heavy. Outside, reporters swarmed like vultures sensing blood.
"Mr. Blackwood! Is it true you've been fired?"
"Does this mean Blackwood Enterprises is finished?"
"Who will replace you as CEO?"
Flashes burst like miniature explosions, cameras aimed at his downfall. He ignored them all, sliding into his sleek black car without a word.
Inside, silence suffocated him. The driver glanced back in the mirror, hesitant to start the engine.
Adrian closed his eyes. He had fought corporate wars, crushed rivals, outwitted politicians. But today… he had lost.
Then—
Ding.
A metallic chime rang in his ears. Adrian's eyes snapped open. The car interior was the same, but something strange flickered in front of him: a translucent blue screen floating in midair.
[ System Activated. ]
He blinked. Hallucination? Stress-induced madness?
The screen shifted, words glowing in bold.
[ Welcome, Host. You have been chosen by the Contract Love System. ]
[ Mission: Secure a marriage contract within 7 days or lose all remaining assets. ]
[ Punishment for failure: Bankruptcy, blacklisting, permanent destruction of reputation. ]
Adrian's jaw clenched.
Marriage contract? Within a week? He nearly laughed. "Ridiculous."
The screen flickered again.
[ Warning: Host refusal detected. ]
[ System penalty activated. ]
His phone buzzed violently. He pulled it out—bank notification after bank notification flashed. Millions draining out of his personal accounts in seconds.
Adrian's breath froze.
[ Current Balance: $0. ]
The screen chimed sweetly.
[ Would Host like to reconsider? ]
---
For the first time in his life, Adrian Blackwood felt cornered.
"Marriage… within a week," he muttered. His mind raced. Women surrounded him—models, actresses, socialites—but not one he trusted, not one who would enter a contract without scheming for his downfall.
Yet the system didn't care about logic.
[ Countdown: 6 Days, 23 Hours, 59 Minutes. ]
The numbers ticked down mercilessly.
Adrian's fingers tightened on his phone. A CEO could lose his company. A man could lose his wealth. But Adrian Blackwood would not—could not—lose to some invisible program.
He needed a bride.
No, not a bride. A contract wife.
Someone who had no interest in love, wealth, or power. Someone he could control… or at least tolerate.
The system pulsed again.
[ Hint: Target detected. ]
The screen shimmered and revealed a profile photo.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
It was her.
---
She stood across the street, unaware that fate—or perhaps this cursed system—had just painted her into his world.
Elena Carter.
He knew her name. She had once worked in the finance department at Blackwood Enterprises, sharp-tongued and annoyingly principled. She was the kind of woman who mocked his arrogance to his face, who refused promotions that smelled of pity, who walked out of the company six months ago with nothing but pride in her eyes.
And now she was here, carrying groceries in both hands, struggling with the weight yet refusing to drop a single bag.
The system screen glowed again.
[ First Mission: Approach Target. Initiate physical contact within 24 hours. ]
[ Reward: Restoration of 10% personal funds. ]
[ Punishment for failure: Negative press scandal. ]
Adrian exhaled slowly. Of course the system chose her.
Of all the women in the world, it had to be the one who despised him most.
---
The black car rolled forward. His driver glanced at him in confusion.
"Sir… where to?"
Adrian's gaze never left the woman across the street.
"To her."
---
The car door opened, polished leather shoes hitting the pavement. Pedestrians froze, recognizing him instantly. Whispers rippled: "Is that Adrian Blackwood?" "Didn't he just lose his company?" "Why is he here?"
Elena looked up, startled. Her arms were full of grocery bags, a strand of hair stuck to her flushed cheek. Her eyes widened the moment she saw him.
"You?" Her voice was sharp, laced with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
Adrian stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. For a moment, neither spoke—the air between them electric with unfinished history.
Then he reached out and took one of the grocery bags from her arms.
The system chimed instantly.
[ Mission Completed. ]
[ Reward Unlocked: 10% funds restored. ]
Elena blinked at him, suspicion clear in her eyes.
"What game are you playing now, Blackwood?"
Adrian's lips curved into the faintest smirk, though inside, his chest tightened. He didn't believe in fate, didn't believe in love. But this system… this cursed system…
"Marry me," he said simply.
The grocery bag slipped from her hands, apples tumbling onto the sidewalk.