Chapter 2: The Contract
Elara stared at the marriage certificate like it might burst into flames.
"This is a joke," she said. "This has to be a joke."
Killian didn't laugh. He didn't even blink.
She marched past him into the sleek, cold kitchen. Granite counters. Chrome appliances. No sign of warmth—just like him.
"What did you do to me?" she demanded. "Did you drug me? Trick me?"
"You were perfectly coherent last night," he replied, pulling open a cabinet and pouring black coffee into a glass mug. "You signed the contract willingly."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why would I do that?"
"You said you wanted revenge. A way to protect what was left of your family name." He took a sip of coffee. "You said marrying me would do it."
She shook her head. "That doesn't make sense."
"Doesn't it?" His tone was unreadable. "You were desperate. I offered you a way out. You took it."
Elara opened her mouth—and paused.
A flash—quick and sharp—crossed her mind. Herself at a bar. A glass in her hand. A voice saying, "You want to win? Marry the enemy."
She closed her eyes. Her head throbbed.
Killian walked over, holding a thick folder. "Here. The prenup. You signed this too."
She snatched it from him, eyes scanning the terms.
Six-month marriage contract. No intimacy clause. Mutual public appearances. No disclosure to media. After the term, both parties walk away with zero claim on the other.
One line stood out:
"This marriage is a strategic partnership. Nothing more."
"This is insane," she whispered.
"It's business," he said coolly. "Just like everything else."
She turned to him. "You expect me to just live with you? Pretend we're married?"
"Yes. For six months." He paused. "Unless you'd rather break the contract and face the legal consequences."
"What consequences?"
He stepped closer, voice low. "Your father's remaining shares are tied into this deal. You break the contract—you lose them. Forever."
Her chest tightened.
He stared at her, calculating and unreadable. "You wanted a way back into the game. This is it."
Elara felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath her. Trapped.
But if she played this right… she might find the truth. And maybe, just maybe, take everything back.
She straightened her spine. Lifted her chin.
"Fine," she said. "But don't expect me to smile."
Killian smirked faintly. "Wouldn't dream of it."