LUCAS POV
I had never needed to ask for anything in his life.
So I didn't realize how ruthless my words sounded.
Marriage had never been part of the plan.
Until it was.
My father's inheritance clause still echoed in my mind.
Get married. Be stable. Be presentable.
Even in retirement, the old man still found ways to control my life.
I never wanted the company in the first place. But my younger brothers had dreams of their own, and I refused to drag them into the world I lived in.
Marriage was simply a requirement.
I could marry anyone.
A socialite.
A stranger.
A woman willing to sign a contract and keep her distance.
But then James had said her name.
Rose.
My Rose.
I exhaled slowly as I stepped into the backseat of the car, nodding briefly to the driver.
The thought of her marrying another man made something dark stir in my chest.
It was irrational.
Selfish.
I knew that.
I couldn't love her. She was too pure for the world I lived in.
Yet here I was, dragging her into it.
Maybe that was why I had avoided her all those years.
But the carefree little girl had always followed me around back then, smiling like the world couldn't touch her.
The car pulled onto the road.
My phone buzzed.
A message from one of my men.
All clear. No movement tonight.
Good.
Still, my thoughts weren't on enemies.
They were on the look James had given me after I made the proposal.
Not anger. Not fear. Relief.
I hated that.
James Petrakis had his own demons.
I told myself this marriage would protect her.
Tie her to me in name only.
Shield her from a world she should never have to face.
No love.
No expectations.
Just protection.
The city lights blurred past the window.
Everyone I cared about eventually got hurt.
I leaned back, closing my eyes briefly.
This marriage would be temporary.
Controlled. Strictly contractual.
I would keep my distance.
I would not touch her.
I would not want her.
Whatever warmth stirred in my chest when I remembered her smile—
I would bury it.
Because loving Amaya Petrakis would be the most dangerous mistake of my life.
And I didn't survive this long by making mistakes.
A buzz broke the silence again.
A new message appeared.
She agreed.
That was all it said.
But I knew exactly who it referred to.
I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing one word.
Good.
AMAYA ROSE POV
It was past five when I finally shut down my laptop.
The studio was quiet now. Aria had left hours earlier, claiming she had a date. But before leaving, she had spent most of the afternoon teasing me about a rumor.
"Lucas O'Brien is getting married."
I had laughed it off at the time.
But the uneasiness never left.
Aria was my best friend and business
partner. Together we ran Maria's Designs, a two-story building where the first floor was a fashion studio and the second floor housed a small flower shop.
When my parents asked me to come home early, curiosity got the better of me.
Aria said it was probably nothing.
Still, I couldn't shake the strange feeling in my chest.
I packed my things, greeted John on the way out, and drove home.
The evening streets of New Zealand were beautiful, the streetlights casting a warm glow as the last leaves of spring drifted to the ground. Winter was approaching.
Normally the sight calmed me.
Tonight it didn't.
When I arrived home, I handed the car keys to the chauffeur.
"Good evening, ma'am," he said.
"Good evening, Paul," I replied with a smile.
Inside the house, Mum and Dad were in the living room watching television.
Well… Mum was watching. Dad looked like he had been forced into it.
"Good evening, Mum. Dad."
"Oh, you're back already," Mum said briefly before turning back to the screen.
"How was work?" Dad asked.
"It was good. We signed a new client," I said as I headed toward the stairs. "I'll freshen up and come back down."
"Sure, dear."
"Shhh!" Mum hissed suddenly. "Gerald is about to tell Caleb he's not his son!"
Dad and I exchanged a look.
I still didn't understand why she watched those soap operas when she already knew the ending.
Upstairs, I dropped my bag and slipped off my heels.
A warm bath sounded perfect.
After soaking for a while, I rinsed off and wrapped myself in a pink towel before heading to my closet.
The weather was getting colder, so I pulled on a pair of shorts, a grey hoodie, and my favorite Mickey Mouse socks.
Yes, I was an adult.
No, I wasn't giving them up.
When I went back downstairs, Mum's soap opera had finally ended.
I curled up beside her on the couch.
"Hey, no fair," Dad grumbled.
"Oh, stop whining," Mum said. "You have her all the time. Let me enjoy my daughter."
I stuck my tongue out at Dad.
"So," I said, "what did you want to talk to me about?"
Mum's hand stilled on my arm.
She glanced at Dad.
They exchanged a look.
That immediately made me nervous.
"Sweetheart," Dad began carefully. "Do you remember my friend Mr. Daniel?"
Of course I did.
He was Dad's best friend.
More importantly… he was Lucas's father.
We used to visit their house often when I was younger.
But that stopped when I turned seven.
I never knew why.
"Yes," I said slowly. "What about him?"
"Daniel recently retired," Dad said. "Lucas took over the company."
My heart skipped.
I nodded silently.
"Lucas came to see me today."
Something in Dad's tone made my stomach twist.
"There's something you need to know," he continued. "And I need you to listen before reacting."
That alone scared me.
"Years ago," he said quietly, staring at the floor, "I took a loan from Daniel."
My eyes widened.
"It wasn't reckless," he added quickly. "A business investment failed, and Daniel helped me privately. No contracts. No public records."
"I promised to repay him," Dad continued.
"But the business never fully recovered."
"And when Daniel stepped down… Lucas came to collect."
"Did he threaten you?" I asked immediately.
"No," Dad said.
"He was calm. Too calm."
My chest tightened.
"I don't have the money anymore, Amaya," he admitted. "Not without selling the house and the company."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"The business never truly recovered," he said gently. "We didn't want to worry you."
"When did this happen?" I whispered.
"A long time ago," he replied softly. "When you were nine."
That was around the time we stopped visiting Lucas's family.
"I can help," I said quickly. "How much do you owe?"
Dad shook his head.
"It's too much, Rose."
I swallowed.
"Then what happens?"
Dad hesitated before continuing.
"He told me something I didn't expect."
"What?"
"He needs to be married in order to receive his full inheritance."
My brows furrowed.
"Married?"
"Yes. It's written in his father's will."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
"And since I can't repay the debt," Dad said quietly, "Lucas offered an alternative."
My heart already knew the answer.
But hearing it still felt like a blow.
"He proposed marriage."
Silence filled the room.
"You mean… to me?"
Dad stood abruptly.
"I told him no. I told him I would never trade my daughter for money."
My chest burned.
"But," Dad added quietly, "Lucas didn't sound like a man making a threat."
I looked up.
"He said marriage would erase the debt completely."
No money.
No consequences.
No future obligation.
"And what do I get?" I whispered.
Dad looked at me with pain in his eyes.
"Security."
His voice broke.
"But you would be marrying a man who does not love you."
That hurt more than I expected.
I had loved Lucas for years.
What began as a childish crush never truly faded.
Even when my friend Ria showed me his photo in a magazine — Forbes' Most Eligible Bachelor — the feelings were still there.
And now fate was bringing him back into my life.
Not as a dream.
But as a solution.
"Did he say anything else?" I asked quietly.
Dad hesitated.
"He promised he would never hurt you."
"That this marriage would be strictly business."
Business.
Cold.
Practical.
Empty.
"If I say no… what happens?" I asked softly.
Dad met my eyes.
"Then I face the consequences of my choices. Alone."
"I would never force you."
I stood slowly.
My heart was racing, but my voice remained steady.
"I'll do it."
"Amaya—"
"I want to," I said, even though the truth was more complicated.
"If it ends this debt… if it protects you."
Tears filled Dad's eyes as he pulled me into a tight embrace.
"I never wanted this for you," he whispered.
I closed my eyes.
Neither did I.
Some marriages begin with love.
Mine began with debt.
Later That Night
Sleep refused to come.
My phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Unknown Number: You agreed.
My breath caught.
Another message appeared.
Unknown Number: We'll discuss the terms tomorrow.
I stared at the screen, my hands trembling.
Because I already knew exactly who the message was from.