The mansion didn't feel like a home.
It felt like a kingdom.
And I was the offering.
The iron gates closed behind us with a heavy clang, sealing my fate as the car rolled down a long, dimly lit driveway. The building in front of me rose like something out of a nightmare—black marble walls, towering windows, cold lights glowing from within.
This was where monsters lived.
"Welcome home," he said calmly.
Home.
The word felt like a blade sliding under my skin.
I stepped out of the car, my heels trembling against the stone path. My father's debts had brought me here. My signature had sealed it.
Sold.
The doors opened before we even reached them. Staff stood in two neat lines, heads lowered. No one looked at me. No one smiled.
They were afraid of him.
And that terrified me more than anything.
"Follow me," he ordered.
No raised voice. No anger.
Just authority.
I followed.
The inside of the mansion was even colder. Black and gold dominated everything. Expensive. Untouchable. Powerful.
Just like him.
He removed his suit jacket slowly, handing it to a servant without looking.
"You'll be staying in the east wing."
"I don't want to stay at all," I snapped before I could stop myself.
Silence.
The air shifted.
He turned.
Slowly.
His dark eyes pinned me in place.
"You don't get to want things anymore," he said quietly.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would break my ribs.
"I'm not your property," I whispered.
He stepped closer.
One step.
Two.
Until he was standing directly in front of me.
"You signed the contract," he reminded me. "Your father signed it first."
"That doesn't mean you own me."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Oh, I don't want to own you."
His fingers lifted, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. My breath caught.
"I want you to choose me."
My stomach twisted.
"Never."
The smile disappeared.
"Careful," he murmured. "Defiance looks beautiful on you… but it has consequences."
I hated that my body reacted to his closeness. The scent of him—dark, expensive, intoxicating—wrapped around me like smoke.
He stepped back suddenly.
"Dinner is at eight. You will be dressed appropriately."
"I don't have anything appropriate."
His gaze traveled down my body slowly, making heat crawl under my skin.
"You will."
He walked away without another word.
Leaving me standing there, furious.
And shaken.
An hour later, a knock came at my door.
A woman entered with several garment bags.
"From Mr. Moretti," she said softly.
Moretti.
So that was the devil's name.
I waited until she left before opening the bags.
Designer dresses.
Silk. Satin. Black. Red.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
I chose the simplest one—a black dress that clung to my waist and fell elegantly to the floor.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back.
She looked like she belonged here.
And that scared me the most.
Dinner was served in a long dining hall illuminated by chandeliers.
He was already seated at the head of the table.
Waiting.
His eyes lifted the moment I entered.
And for a split second…
Something flickered there.
Approval.
"Sit," he said.
I did.
Plates were placed in front of us. The staff disappeared like ghosts.
We were alone.
"You will learn the rules of this house," he began calmly. "You will not leave without my permission. You will attend events when I require it. And you will not embarrass me."
"And if I do?" I challenged.
He leaned back in his chair.
"Then I remind you why you're here."
I swallowed.
"You talk like this is permanent."
"It is."
The word hit harder than it should have.
"This is a contract marriage," he continued. "Publicly, you are my wife. Privately… we negotiate."
My fork froze mid-air.
"Marriage?"
"Yes."
"You never said—"
"You didn't ask."
My chest tightened.
"I won't marry you."
"You already agreed."
"No, I agreed to—"
"To be mine," he finished smoothly.
Silence fell heavy between us.
"You're insane," I breathed.
He stood suddenly.
The sound of the chair scraping echoed loudly.
He walked around the table slowly.
Stopped beside me.
Bent down slightly so his mouth was near my ear.
"You think I'm cruel now?" he whispered. "Wait until you see what the world does to girls who defy men like me."
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice barely steady.
His hand rested on the back of my chair.
"Because you look at me without fear."
I laughed bitterly.
"I am terrified of you."
"No," he corrected softly. "You're terrified of wanting me."
My breath hitched.
His fingers brushed lightly against my jaw.
"If you try to run," he murmured, "I will find you."
And for the first time…
I believed him.
Later that night, I stood by the window of my room, staring at the gates far below.
Locked.
Guarded.
Impossible.
A knock echoed behind me.
I froze.
The door opened without waiting for permission.
He stepped inside.
Without his jacket.
Without distance.
"You forgot something," he said.
I turned slowly.
"What?"
He closed the door behind him.
"The first rule."
My heart pounded.
"And what is that?"
His eyes darkened.
"In my house…"
He took one step closer.
"You don't sleep alone."
If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to add it to your library ❤️