POV: Isabella
Isabella stood on the balcony of the old estate, her fingers gripping the railing tightly as if she could hold onto the remnants of the life she once knew. Below, the city lights twinkled, so far away, like a distant dream she could never reach. She had been here a thousand times , but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was at the edge of falling apart.
Her father's once-thriving business was now a sinking ship, and every day it seemed like the walls of their estate were closing in. Isabella's mother had tried to stay optimistic, but even she couldn't ignore the looming threat. The mafia's enforcers had made it clear: the debts owed were not just numbers . They were real. And they were demanding their payment.
Isabella could hear the wind rustling through the trees, its sound almost mocking in the silence of the night. The estate had once been a place of warmth, of laughter and love. But now? It was a reminder of everything she was about to lose.
She had tried everything to fix this. The phone calls, the meetings, the desperate promises to pay back what they owed. But none of it had worked. Her father's health was failing, and their business dealings were now nothing more than a collection of broken promises and unpaid bills.
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind: "There's always a way out, darling. We just have to find it." But what did that even mean anymore? What was left to find?
The answer, she realized, was nothing. Nothing except her desperation.
A soft knock on the door behind her broke the silence, and Isabella turned, startled. Her mother's face appeared, pale and tight with worry. "Isabella," she began, her voice shaking, "there's someone here to see you."
Someone. A visitor at this hour? Isabella's pulse quickened, and for a moment, she hoped it was just a business associate or even a lawyer. Someone who might have a solution to their problems. But deep down, she knew better.
"Who is it?" she asked, her throat tight.
"A man. Dominic Steele," her mother replied, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.
The name hit Isabella like a cold slap. Dominic Steele. The name was synonymous with power, wealth, and danger. He was the type of man who could walk into a room and make it feel like everything was in his control. And, she realized with a sinking heart, he was the last person she wanted to see.
But her mother was already moving towards the door, her voice low. "You should speak with him. He says he can help us."
Isabella felt a knot tighten in her stomach. There was no such thing as help from someone like Dominic Steele. He didn't help people—he took what he wanted. And her family was nothing more than a pawn to him.
"I'll be right there," Isabella said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She followed her mother down the long hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last. The house felt too quiet tonight, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something that would change everything.
As they entered the sitting room, she saw him—Dominic Steele—sitting by the fire, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was as imposing as the rumors had suggested. His dark hair was cut short, and his eyes—cold, calculating—never left her as she stepped into the room.
"Miss Blake," he greeted her, his voice smooth but carrying a weight that made her chest tighten. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
Isabella didn't trust herself to speak at first. Instead, she nodded stiffly, studying him from the doorway. He was everything she had imagined—and more. Tall, confident, and exuding an aura of someone used to having things done his way.
She took a cautious step forward. "What do you want?"
His lips curled into a half-smile. "Straight to the point. I like that."
She didn't flinch. She had long ago learned not to show weakness, not to reveal how vulnerable her heart was in this situation.
Dominic set his glass down on the table beside him and stood. "What I want, Miss Blake, is simple. I want to help you."
Isabella's brow furrowed. "Help us? You?" She couldn't hide the disbelief in her voice. This was Dominic Steele. The man who owned half of the city, the man whose name was whispered in dark corners. What could he possibly want with her family?
He took a slow step towards her, and her breath caught. His presence was magnetic—his very being filled the room. "Yes. Help," he repeated, his voice low and steady. "I'm offering you a deal. One night. One night to save your family."
Isabella blinked, momentarily unsure if she had heard him correctly. "One night? What are you talking about?"
Dominic's gaze didn't waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something she couldn't quite read. "I have an offer for you. You'll be my 'Silver Bride' for a single night. In exchange, I'll pay your family's debt. All of it."
The words didn't make sense. "Your Silver Bride?" she repeated, the disbelief thick in her voice.
"Yes," he said, his eyes hardening. "A sacred werewolf ritual. You will serve as my bride for a night, and I will ensure your family is safe."
The room seemed to tilt beneath her feet as the full impact of his words settled in. A werewolf. A ritual. A deal she couldn't possibly comprehend. But the part that hit hardest was the last word: Bride.
Her mind raced, heart pounding in her chest. "You want me to marry you? Just like that?"
Dominic shrugged, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I'm not asking for your heart, Miss Blake. I'm asking for your body. One night. One ritual. And your family's debts will disappear."
Lila's blood ran cold. This wasn't a typical business arrangement. This wasn't anything like she had imagined. Her family's survival was being bought and sold like a commodity—and she was the price.
She swallowed hard, but words failed her. There was a weight to his gaze that made her feel like there was no escape. He was offering her a way out—a way to save her family—but at what cost?
Her lips parted, but she didn't know what to say. Could she trust him? Was there any way to escape this nightmare she found herself trapped in?
Dominic's voice cut through her thoughts. "You're thinking too much. It's simple, Miss Blake. One night. One sacrifice. And you're free. What's the price of your family's freedom?"
Isabella's pulse hammered in her chest as she stood frozen, the weight of her decision pressing down on her.
And then, with a voice barely above a whisper, she asked the question that would change everything.
"Who do I become after the night is over?
The room fell silent. The question hung between them, a challenge and a plea all at once. As Dominic's dark gaze met hers, Isabella realized the true cost of this deal—she wasn't just signing away her family's debt; she was signing away her soul.