The banquet finally came to an end. Liana barely remembered how she had made it through the endless chatter and forced smiles. The air in the grand hall had been heavy enough, but the silence that followed once the guests left was even worse.
She excused herself quickly, hoping to escape before anyone noticed. But as she slipped into the long corridor, her steps slowed. Her instincts prickled—the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
"Miss Hart."
The deep voice froze her in place.
She turned and found Adrian Blackwood standing at the end of the corridor, hands in his pockets, posture as commanding as if the entire mansion belonged to him. Which, technically, it did.
The light from the chandeliers above cast shadows across his face, sharpening his already cold features. His gaze locked onto hers, and the familiar chill traveled down her spine.
"Follow me."
It wasn't a request.
Liana hesitated, every instinct screaming at her not to obey. But surrounded by his men and his world, what choice did she have? She followed him through the corridor, past gilded doors, until they entered his private study.
The door shut with a muted click, cutting her off from the rest of the world.
Adrian walked toward the desk, his movements unhurried yet deliberate. He sat, steepling his fingers, watching her as if she were a puzzle he intended to solve.
"Sit," he ordered.
"I prefer to stand," she said, crossing her arms.
His lips curved faintly, though it wasn't amusement. "Stubborn already."
The silence between them stretched, thick with tension. Finally, Adrian spoke, his tone calm, but edged with steel.
"You and I both know tonight wasn't about choice. Your stepfather wants this marriage to save himself. And I…" He leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "…I agreed because it's convenient."
The bluntness stung, though she expected nothing less.
"So I'm just convenient?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"To me, yes," he replied without hesitation. "Don't misunderstand—I don't care about you, Miss Hart. What I need is a wife in the eyes of society. Nothing more."
Her nails dug into her palms. She had known it would be this way, but hearing the words still left her breathless.
Adrian pulled open a drawer and placed a sleek folder on the desk. He slid it toward her.
"A contract," he said. "The terms are simple: you will be Mrs. Blackwood in public. You will attend events, smile when necessary, and play the role people expect. In return, your family's debts will be settled. Your stepfather will no longer have creditors at his door."
Liana's eyes dropped to the folder. The weight of it was heavier than iron.
"And what about behind closed doors?" she asked quietly.
Adrian's gaze sharpened. "Behind closed doors, we are strangers. I don't want your affection, your loyalty, or your interference. You live your life. I live mine. As long as you remember your place, there will be no problem."
Something inside her twisted painfully, but she forced a steady breath.
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
Adrian's expression didn't change, but his silence was enough. She already knew the answer. Her family would collapse. The creditors her stepfather owed would tear them apart.
Images flashed in her mind—her late mother's gentle smile, her father's weary figure before his early death. They had raised her to stand tall, to survive. And now, survival meant shackling herself to the coldest man she had ever met.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the ache in her chest almost unbearable. "You're no different from him," she whispered.
Adrian's brow arched slightly. "From who?"
"My stepfather," she said bitterly. "Using me as a pawn to protect yourself."
The words hung heavy in the air. For a second, something flickered in Adrian's eyes—a shadow of irritation, maybe curiosity—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"Think of it however you like," he said coldly. "In the end, you'll sign."
Liana's hands trembled as she picked up the folder. She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning line after line of legal jargon. Each word was a chain, binding her tighter to him.
She wanted to scream, to tear the papers apart. But she thought of her younger half-brother, still a child, who would suffer if the family was ruined. She thought of her late mother, who would never forgive her for letting pride destroy what little they had left.
Finally, she set the folder down. Her voice was steady, though it cost her everything.
"I'll sign."
Adrian leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "Good."
He slid a pen across the desk toward her.
Her fingers closed around it, cold and unsteady. With one swift motion, she scrawled her name across the line. Liana Hart.
It was done.
The pen slipped from her grip, clattering softly against the desk. Her chest felt hollow, as though a piece of her had been carved out.
Adrian stood, gathering the contract. "Remember, Miss Hart. This is business, nothing else." His eyes locked with hers, colder than ever. "Don't expect love from me. Don't even expect kindness. What you'll have is security. Nothing more."
Liana met his gaze, her pride the only shield she had left. "And don't expect obedience from me. I may be forced into this, but I won't break."
For the first time, the faintest flicker of something—interest, challenge—passed through his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by icy detachment.
Without another word, he left the study, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Liana remained behind, staring at the signed contract, her heart heavy.
She had made her choice—or rather, the lack of one.
And with that signature, her life was no longer her own.
Yet deep down, a quiet vow burned within her chest.
If Adrian Blackwood thought she would remain silent, invisible, and obedient, he was gravely mistaken.