The next morning, the sky is bright and clear, but my heart feels heavy.
Today, I'm signing a contract that will change everything.
I arrive at Adrian's office exactly on time. His assistant greets me politely and leads me inside. Adrian is already there, sitting behind his desk with a calm expression. A man in a suit stands beside him, his lawyer.
"Miss Blackwood," Adrian says smoothly, "please sit."
I take my seat across from him. The air feels thick, quiet, serious.
The lawyer slides the papers toward me. "This is the final version of the agreement. Please read it carefully before signing."
I scan the pages. The contract looks simple on the surface: six months of marriage, public appearances, no emotional involvement, and shared company benefits. But the rules are strict. I must live in Adrian's house. I must attend his events. And I must play the role of a loving wife in public.
It's business. That's what I tell myself. Just business.
Adrian's voice breaks the silence. "Do you have any questions?"
I lift my eyes to meet his. "Only one," I say softly. "What happens when six months are over?"
He tilts his head slightly. "Then we part ways. You go back to your life, and I go back to mine."
His words sound simple, but there's something in his tone I can't read.
"Fine," I say. "Let's sign."
He watches as I pick up the pen. My hand doesn't shake. I write my name at the bottom of the page, Emma Blackwood.
Adrian signs next, his handwriting sharp and steady.
"It's done," he says quietly.
The lawyer nods and leaves the room, taking the documents with him. Now it's just the two of us.
Adrian leans back in his chair, studying me. "You don't look nervous."
"I'm not," I reply. "I know what I want."
He smiles faintly. "Good. You'll need that confidence."
Before I can respond, his phone rings. He answers briefly, then stands. "Pack your things. You'll move into my house tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes. The press will hear about the marriage soon. We need to make it look real."
I nod. "I understand."
He looks at me for a moment longer, as if trying to read my thoughts, then turns away. "My driver will pick you up at six."
When I leave his office, the world outside feels different, like the air itself knows I've crossed a line I can't go back from.
At six sharp, a black car waits outside my home. The driver opens the door and greets me politely. The ride to Adrian's mansion is silent. I stare out the window, watching the city fade into quiet hills and tall gates.
When we arrive, I step out and look around. The mansion is huge, elegant, and cold. It feels less like a home and more like a statement, a symbol of power.
Adrian meets me at the door. He's dressed in a black suit, no tie, sleeves rolled up. He looks calm, confident, as always.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood," he says.
I manage a small smile. "It's quite a house."
"Call it what it is," he replies. "A cage."
His words surprise me. But before I can answer, he gestures for me to follow.
He shows me around the grand staircase, the study, and the wide windows that overlook the city lights. Then he stops at a door at the end of the hall.
"This will be your room," he says. "Mine is across the hall."
So close, yet divided. Perfect for pretending.
"Thank you," I say.
He watches me quietly for a moment. "You're calm about all this."
"I told you," I say softly. "It's business."
He steps closer, his eyes locked on mine. "Then remember that." His voice drops lower. "Because the world will be watching."
I hold his gaze, not flinching. "Let them watch."
A small smile touches his lips. "Good. Tomorrow morning, we'll announce our marriage publicly. Be ready for questions. Lies have to sound like the truth."
"I'm good at that," I say before I can stop myself.
Something flashes in his eyes, interest, maybe, or warning. "I'm sure you are," he says quietly.
For a long moment, we just stand there, staring at each other. The air between us feels strange, sharp but not cold, dangerous but alive.
Then he turns and walks away, his voice echoing down the hall. "Dinner is at seven. Don't be late, Mrs. Blackwood."
When I close the door to my new room, I finally exhale.
Everything feels too real now. The walls, the silence, the heavy truth of the papers we both signed.
I look at my reflection in the mirror, a woman who once begged for love, now wearing a calm face and holding a plan inside her heart.
This isn't a marriage. It's a battlefield.
And I just stepped onto it.