"Sign it."
That was the first word my husband ever said to me.
Cold. Sharp. Heartless.
I stared at the paper in front of me, my hands trembling slightly. A marriage contract. Not a love confession… not a proposal… just a deal.
"Do I really have a choice?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The man sitting across from me leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes filled with nothing but indifference.
"No," he replied simply.
My chest tightened.
This wasn't how I imagined my life would be. No wedding dress. No love. No happiness.
Just a contract… and a stranger.
But he wasn't just any man.
He was one of the richest and most powerful men in the city.
Cold. Untouchable. Feared.
And now… he was about to become my husband.
"Hurry up," he said impatiently. "I don't have all day."
Tears burned in my eyes, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn't change anything.
My family was drowning in debt.
And he was the only one who could save us.
I tightened my grip on the pen.
"If I sign this… you'll help my family?" I asked.
He didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
No emotion. No hesitation. Just business.
That was all this was to him.
A transaction.
I took a deep breath and signed my name.
The moment the pen left the paper, something inside me broke.
"Good," he said, standing up. "From today, you are my wife."
Wife.
The word felt strange… heavy.
He walked past me without another glance, like I was nothing more than a task he had just completed.
"Wait," I said suddenly.
He stopped.
I hesitated, then asked the one thing I needed to know.
"Will you ever… treat me like a real wife?"
There was a pause.
Then he chuckled softly — a cold, mocking sound.
"Don't expect things that will never happen."
My heart sank.
"Know your place," he added before walking away.
And just like that…
My marriage began.
Not with love.
But with a deal I might one day regret.