The ink on her name still glistened when Elena dropped the pen.
It was done.
The contract lay open on the small kitchen table, stark against the peeling wood. Her signature—messy, shaky, and unwilling—sat beneath Alexander Knight's flawless one, binding her to a future she hadn't chosen.
Her chest felt tight, as though invisible chains had coiled around her lungs.
Daniel stared at the paper like it was a death sentence. "Lena, you didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did," she cut in, her voice trembling but firm. "Do you want to wake up tomorrow with broken bones? Do you want Mom to live in fear every day? This is the only way."
Her brother's jaw worked, guilt etched into his features. Their mother, meanwhile, whispered a shaky prayer of thanks, pressing a handkerchief to her lips to hide her tears.
The knock at the door silenced them all.
Daniel opened it hesitantly, revealing two men in dark suits. Alexander's men. One handed Elena an envelope—payment, she assumed—while the other announced in a clipped tone, "Mr. Knight will see you now."
Elena's stomach lurched. She looked down at her faded jeans and oversized sweater, suddenly all too aware of how out of place she would look in his world. But there was no time to change, no room to hesitate.
She was his now.
---
The car ride was silent. Elena sat stiffly, clutching her purse, while the city blurred by outside the tinted windows.
When the car finally stopped in front of the Knight Enterprises headquarters, her breath caught. The building towered like a glass fortress, gleaming in the afternoon sun. The doorman bowed as the suited driver led her inside, his presence enough to part crowds in the marble lobby.
Elena followed, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the pristine floor. She caught reflections of herself in the polished glass walls: a nervous, ordinary girl being led into the lion's den.
The elevator doors opened directly into Alexander Knight's office.
It was nothing like she had imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one side, revealing the entire city sprawled out below like a conquered kingdom. The room was sleek, minimalist, every line sharp and deliberate.
And at the center, behind a massive black desk, sat Alexander himself.
He didn't rise when she entered. He simply looked up, eyes storm-gray and unreadable, as though he had been expecting her all along.
Elena forced herself to stand tall, though her knees trembled. "It's done. I signed."
His gaze flickered briefly to the folder in her hand. "Good."
"That's all you have to say?" she demanded, frustration spilling through her fear.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "You expect gratitude? You agreed to terms that benefit us both. This is business, Miss Roberts, not romance."
The way he said romance—like it was something dirty, laughable—sent a shiver through her.
"Fine," she snapped. "Then let's talk business. What happens now?"
At that, Alexander rose. He moved with the controlled grace of a predator, circling the desk until he stood directly in front of her. He was taller than she remembered, his presence overwhelming, his cologne subtle yet intoxicating.
"Now," he said slowly, "you become my wife. But before that, there are rules."
Her heart thudded painfully. "Rules?"
"Yes." He walked past her, pouring himself a drink at the bar by the window, then turned back with the glass in hand. "First: you will move into my home immediately. Appearances matter. My fiancée will not live in a shabby apartment on the wrong side of the city."
Heat rose in Elena's cheeks, anger mingling with shame. "My home isn't—"
"Second," he continued smoothly, cutting her off, "you will attend all social functions required of you. You will smile, hold my arm, and play the role of the perfect bride. In public, you will be the picture of elegance."
Her nails dug into her palms. "And in private?"
The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "In private, you will stay out of my way."
The bluntness stung more than she expected.
"Third," he said, his voice dropping, "there will be no… complications. No expectations of love. No foolish dreams of happily-ever-after. This is a contract, nothing more. At the end of one year, you will leave. And we will never speak again."
Elena's throat tightened. She should have been relieved—this was exactly what she wanted, wasn't it? To protect her family, survive a year, and walk away. But the coldness in his tone felt like a door slamming shut in her face.
"Do you understand?" he asked.
She lifted her chin, meeting his icy gaze with fire of her own. "I understand. But don't think for a second I'll let you treat me like a puppet. I may have signed your contract, Mr. Knight, but I haven't sold my soul."
For the first time, his expression shifted—amusement flickered in his eyes, sharp and dangerous. He stepped closer, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him, the tension thick between them.
"Careful, Miss Roberts," he murmured, his voice low enough to curl around her spine. "Defiance can be… costly."
Elena refused to flinch. "So can underestimating me."
A beat of silence stretched, charged and electric. Then, without warning, Alexander's phone buzzed on the desk. He straightened, answering briskly, his cold mask snapping back into place.
"You'll be fitted for a dress tomorrow," he said once he hung up, already dismissing her. "The engagement will be announced at the gala this weekend. I expect you to be ready."
Elena's stomach dropped. "This weekend? That's—"
"Not negotiable," he said firmly. "Consider it your first test."
Her lips parted, a dozen protests rising, but he had already turned back to his desk, effectively ending the conversation.
The driver reappeared at the door, waiting to escort her out.
Elena hesitated, her heart hammering, then squared her shoulders. She would not let him see her crumble.
As she walked past Alexander, she threw him one last defiant look. "You might own the contract, Mr. Knight. But you'll never own me."
For the briefest moment, something flickered in his storm-gray eyes—surprise? Amusement? Hunger? She couldn't tell.
Then his voice followed her to the door, smooth and lethal.
"We'll see, Mrs. Knight."
---
That night, Elena sat awake in her childhood bedroom, staring at the ceiling. The contract papers lay folded on her nightstand, mocking her with every glance.
In less than a week, the world would see her as Alexander Knight's fiancée.
Her family would be safe.
But her heart, her freedom, her very sense of self… those were the sacrifices she wasn't sure she could endure.
Across the city, Sophia Scott—the ex-fiancée Alexander once loved—watched the news headline flash: Alexander Knight Engaged to Unknown Girl. Her crimson lips curved into a cruel smile. "We'll see about that."