The next morning, I wake up early. I barely slept last night. My mind kept running through every word I said to Adrian, every look in his eyes.
He's smart. Too smart. I have to be careful.
I dress in a simple white blouse and black skirt. No jewelry, no perfume. I need to look serious, not desperate.
When I arrive at Blackwood Tower, the receptionist already knows my name. "Mr. Adrian is expecting you," she says.
That surprises me. He didn't waste time.
I ride the elevator up, my heart beating fast but steady. When the doors open, he's standing by the window again, looking out over the city.
"Right on time," he says without turning.
"I always am," I reply.
He finally faces me. Today, his expression is differentthoughtful, maybe even curious. "I read your proposal last night," he says, walking to his desk. "It's… interesting."
I stay silent.
He sits down, steepling his fingers. "I'm willing to agree to it."
My chest tightens. He's agreeing? That's faster than I expected.
"But," he adds, and my hope pauses midair, "I have conditions."
Of course he does. Adrian Blackwood never agrees to anything without control.
"What kind of conditions?" I ask calmly.
He opens a folder on his desk and slides a few papers toward me. "If we sign this marriage contract, you will live with me. Not as a guest, not as a name on paper, my wife."
I blink. "You mean pretend to be your real wife?"
"Exactly," he says. "In public, you'll act like we're truly married. We'll attend events together, share a home, share… appearances."
My stomach twists. "Appearances?"
His eyes hold mine. "We'll have to look real, Emma. That means you'll stay in my house, under my rules."
I grip the edge of the chair. Inside, anger burns, but I keep my face neutral. "That wasn't in my plan."
"It's in mine," he says, leaning back. "If you want my company's help, you'll accept my terms. Otherwise, there's the door."
He's testing me. Watching how far I'll go.
I force a small smile. "You don't trust easily, do you?"
"Trust is earned," he says simply.
I look down at the papers. The contract is a clear six-month marriage. No real feelings, no promises, just business. But his conditions make it dangerous. Living with him means risking everythingespecially my heart.
Still, I know what I have to do.
I look up and meet his gaze. "Fine. I accept your terms."
His brows lift slightly. "Just like that?"
"You said it yourself," I reply. "It's business."
He studies me for a long moment, then smiles faintly, not kind, but sharp, like he's just found something interesting. "Very well," he says. "We'll sign the agreement tomorrow morning. My lawyer will prepare everything."
I stand to leave, but he stops me with a quiet voice. "Emma."
I turn.
He walks closer, his eyes unreadable. "You said yesterday this wasn't about romance. I like that." He pauses, his tone softer but colder. "But don't forget every deal has a cost."
His words make my skin prickle. "I understand," I say.
"Good." His lips curve slightly. "Welcome to the game, Mrs. Blackwood."
He turns away, dismissing me like a finished meeting.
I walk out with my heart pounding. As the elevator doors close, I see his reflection in the glasscalm, confident, smiling faintly.
He thinks he's the one in control.
Good. Let him think that.
Because the more he believes it, the easier it will be to bring him down.
When I step out of the building, the wind blows through my hair. The world feels louder, sharper, alive.
The first part of my plan is complete. Soon, Adrian Blackwood will be tied to me by his own signature.
But as I walk away, a small voice in my mind whispers: Be careful.
He's not the only one playing a game.