She Signs His Name Like a Threat
POV: HER
The first time I ruin his life, he doesn't even know my name.
That comes later after the contract, after the ring, after the lie that binds us together like a loaded gun with no safety.
Right now, I'm sitting in a glass office that smells like money and arrogance, signing paperwork that will make Adrian Blackwood my legal problem.
My hand doesn't shake.
That's the part people always expect the trembling fingers, the hesitation, the last-minute panic. They expect tears. Fear. Second thoughts.
What they don't expect is the smile.
"Miss Hale," the lawyer says carefully, as if I might break. "Once you sign, there's no reversing this."
I glance up at him. He's sweating. Poor man.
"I know," I say sweetly. "That's why I'm signing."
The pen glides over the paper.
Evelyn Hale.
The name that crawled out of nothing.
The name Adrian Blackwood destroyed without ever looking back.
I close the file and slide it across the desk.
"Congratulations," I add. "Your client just agreed to marry his worst mistake."
The lawyer blinks. "Excuse me?"
The door behind me opens.
I don't turn around. I don't need to.
I know his presence the way prey knows a shadow.
The room changes when Adrian Blackwood enters it air thickens, temperature drops, oxygen becomes optional. He's taller than memory allowed, broader, dressed in the kind of black suit men wear when they're used to owning outcomes.
He stops.
I feel it when he looks at me.
Slow. Assessing. Dismissive.
Then confused.
"Who the hell are you?" he asks.
Ah. Music.
I stand, finally turning to face him, heels clicking once deliberate, final. I meet his eyes and watch the exact moment recognition fails.
Of course he doesn't remember me.
Men like Adrian never remember the women they ruin.
"I'm your fiancée," I say brightly. "Didn't anyone tell you?"
Silence slams into the room.
The lawyer makes a small, terrified noise.
Adrian's gaze drops to the folder. Then back to me. Then sharpens.
"I don't do surprises," he says quietly. "And I definitely don't do strangers."
I step closer.
Close enough to smell his cologne expensive, controlled, masculine in a way that used to make me feel small.
Not anymore.
"You do now," I whisper. "Because you needed a wife. And I needed revenge."
Something flickers in his eyes.
Interest.
Danger.
"Oh?" he murmurs. "And what makes you think you'll survive marrying me?"
I smile wider.
"Adrian," I say softly, savoring his name for the first time.
"I already survived you once."
That's when it happens.
That subtle shift the moment the game notices it's being played.
He doesn't smile.
But he doesn't step away either.
And I know, with terrifying certainty, that this marriage will either destroy us both…
Or make me powerful enough to burn his empire to the ground.