Elena didn't sleep that night.
The contract lay on her bedside table, the words burning into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to push them away. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Adrian Blake's cold expression, heard his confident voice promising her a way out of her drowning debts.
By morning, her head ached from the constant war inside her. One half of her screamed to tear the papers apart, to never let herself be caged by a man like him. The other half whispered about her father, about the hospital bills, about the eviction notice tucked beneath her pillow.
Her father's cough echoed from the living room, breaking her heart. She rose, made him breakfast, and forced a smile as she set the tray down.
"Ellie," he murmured, his voice raspy, "you didn't sleep, did you?"
"I'm fine, Dad," she said quickly. "Eat something, okay?"
But she wasn't fine. Not even close.
---
Later that morning, Elena stormed into Blake Tower with the contract in hand, her chest tight with nerves. She didn't belong here—among the sleek-suited executives and polished marble floors—but she wasn't going to let Adrian think he could play with her life like a pawn on a chessboard.
The receptionist looked up in surprise as Elena slammed the papers down. "Tell Mr. Blake I need to see him. Now."
The woman blinked, clearly unused to such demands, but before she could reply, Adrian's voice cut through the air.
"Miss Carter."
Elena turned sharply. He was there, striding toward her with that same commanding presence, dark suit perfectly pressed, not a hair out of place. His gray eyes flicked to the contract in her hand, then back to her face.
"Follow me," he said simply.
Every eye in the lobby followed them as Adrian led her into the private elevator. Elena's heart hammered, but she forced herself to meet his gaze when the doors slid shut.
"What is this?" she demanded, waving the contract. "Do you think I'm so desperate that I'll just sign my life away because you dangle money in front of me?"
Adrian's expression was calm, almost bored. "You haven't signed it."
"I won't," she snapped. "This is insane. Marriage isn't some business transaction you can file with your accountants."
"Isn't it?" His voice was smooth, cutting. "Do you know how many marriages in my world are built on contracts, alliances, and convenience? Love is a luxury—one that costs too much and delivers too little. What I'm offering you is stability. Protection. Freedom from your debts. All in exchange for a role."
Elena stared at him, stunned by the sheer coldness in his words. "You don't believe in love at all, do you?"
His jaw tightened, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. "Belief doesn't pay bills. Love doesn't keep a company afloat. And it certainly doesn't silence a board of directors who are waiting to devour every weakness."
He turned slightly, his gaze hardening. "But a wife does. On paper, I become untouchable. And so do you."
Elena's pulse raced. "Why me?" she whispered. "You could choose anyone. Some socialite. Some model. Someone from your world."
Adrian's eyes lingered on hers, steady and unflinching. "Because you're not from my world. You don't need me to survive in it. That makes you dangerous to those who would try to manipulate me—and invaluable to me."
Her breath caught. Dangerous? Invaluable? The words tangled in her chest, leaving her more confused than ever.
The elevator doors slid open onto his office—an expansive room of glass and steel, overlooking the skyline. Adrian gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing, clutching the contract like a weapon.
"I can't do this," she said firmly, though her voice trembled. "Marriage—real or fake—means something to me. It meant something to my parents. It isn't just ink on paper."
For the first time, Adrian's mask seemed to crack. A shadow passed over his face, as if her words had struck a place he kept hidden from the world. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that familiar, unyielding composure.
"You'll change your mind," he said softly.
Her head snapped up. "What makes you so sure?"
Adrian stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because you care too much about your father to let him suffer. And I have the power to take that suffering away."
Elena's chest tightened painfully. He was right, and she hated it. Hated how well he saw through her, how clearly he held the one card she couldn't afford to ignore.
"I'm not your puppet," she whispered fiercely.
"No," Adrian said, his tone almost gentle. "You're not. That's why I chose you."
Elena turned away, unable to stand the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to scream at him, to throw the contract in his face and walk out forever. But when she pictured her father, frail and coughing in their small apartment, her resolve wavered.
Adrian's voice cut through her turmoil, calm but firm. "Take the week. Think it over. When you're ready, come back."
Her fingers tightened around the papers, crumpling the edges. She wanted to deny him, to shout that she'd never agree—but the words died on her tongue.
Because deep down, she already knew the truth.
Every day that passed brought her closer to the impossible choice: pride or survival.
And Adrian Blake was betting everything on the fact that she would choose him.