The pen scratched across paper, its sound sharp as chains locking shut.
Elara Chen. The name looked strange in her own handwriting, like someone else had taken control of her hand and guided it. That signature wasn't hers—it belonged to the woman she'd just agreed to become. The ink was still wet when Kael leaned forward and slid the contract toward himself. His fingers brushed hers, whether by accident or intention she couldn't tell.
It's done. No way to undo it now.
"Excellent." His voice was low, satisfied. He studied the signature like a collector appraising a rare acquisition. "I do so admire decisive women."
The shift in him was immediate. Gone was the cool negotiator offering terms across polished wood. In his place was something darker, more dangerous, something that carried weight like possession. He looked at her as though she were art he'd just purchased—valuable, admired, irrevocably his.
"I can't believe I just did that," she whispered. Her hands lay still on her lap, unfamiliar, foreign.
"Buyer's remorse," Kael said smoothly, lifting the velvet box that sat like a promise on his desk. He opened it with practiced ease. Inside, the diamond caught light with blinding force. "It's natural. But it fades."
Dear God, that thing could feed a small country.
"Is it real?" The words escaped before she could stop them.
"Everything about this is real, angel. The contract. The ring. The consequences." He lifted the stone between his fingers, letting it glitter. "Twelve carats, flawless. Mined in Botswana, from a site I own. Even my mother will be impressed."
Mother-in-law. He's dragging me into this circus completely.
"You have a mother?"
His smile was all frost. "I have a family. People who will demand to meet the woman who stole my heart." He moved around the desk, deliberate, fluid. "They'll want to believe our love story. And you'll make them believe it."
Love story. He makes it sound like a performance piece.
Kael stopped close, towering over her chair. She had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. "Give me your hand."
He's really going to put it on me.
"My left hand?"
"Unless you've been hiding some unconventional tradition." His tone carried a ghost of humor, but beneath it something sharper waited. Hunger. Anticipation.
She extended her hand, surprised that it didn't shake. His fingers wrapped her wrist, warm but possessive, and the simple touch made her chest seize. The ring slid on with unsettling ease.
Of course it fits. He's been planning this for longer than I can imagine.
"Perfect," he murmured. His thumb traced the band as though sealing it to her skin. "I shouldn't be surprised. I know all your measurements."
All my measurements. God help me.
The weight of it pressed down, a jewel disguised as a shackle. She turned her hand, the diamond scattering light into fractured rainbows across the office walls.
"It's too much," she said.
"It's just enough." His grip tightened slightly. "You'll stand beside me at the most exclusive events in this city. Surrounded by people who measure worth in billions. That ring tells them who you are."
No. It tells them who owns me.
"And what does it say, exactly?"
"That you're mine," Kael answered without hesitation. "That I value you enough to give what most would never afford. That anyone who thinks of harming you should think again."
Protection. Possession. He doesn't even pretend there's a difference.
She tried to pull back, but his hold stayed firm. His gaze didn't soften.
"There are rules, Elara." His voice carried the weight of contracts and deals, but his eyes locked her in place. "Boundaries. You'll follow them."
Of course there are rules. Everything with him has strings.
"Like what?"
"You don't take off this ring. Not ever. Not to shower. Not to sleep. Not even in private. It's part of who you are now." His thumb circled her wrist slowly, deliberately. "You don't discuss our terms. The world sees a love story, not a contract."
"My mother? Sarah?"
"Your mother hears we met through a mutual friend. Love at first sight. Sarah…" He paused, calculating. "You'll tell her what she'll believe. But remember—breaches have consequences."
Consequences. Always his favorite word.
"You'll live in my penthouse. You'll attend events on my arm. You'll be affectionate, attentive, convincing." His grip shifted, pressing against her pulse. "Everyone will see a woman deeply in love with me."
"And you? What role do you play?"
He smiled, slow and sharp. "The devoted fiancé. Protective. Possessive. Consumed by you."
Consumed. Obsessed. He doesn't hide it.
"This is insane," she whispered.
"This is business," Kael replied softly. He released her wrist at last, though the heat of his touch lingered like a brand. "Now. We should discuss where you'll be living."
Living. As if I didn't just sign away my freedom.
"I need time to pack. To tell my mother. To—"
"No." The word was silk, absolute. "Tonight. Viktor is already collecting your belongings from Sarah's apartment."
Her stomach twisted. "You can't just—"
"I can," he interrupted, calm as ice. "You signed. That gives me latitude. But I'm not unreasonable. You'll call your mother once you're settled. Tell her you've met someone. That you're staying with him."
Someone special. If she only knew.
"She'll want to meet you."
"And she will. Tomorrow, if you'd like. I'll charm her. I'll be everything a mother wants—successful, devoted, in love with her daughter." His eyes glinted. "I'll even bring flowers."
He's mapped this down to the last detail.
"What if she doesn't like you?"
"She will," he said simply, his certainty terrifying. "Mothers want their daughters secure, safe, cherished. I provide all of that."
A soft chime broke the moment. Kael checked his phone, his face shifting to cool efficiency.
"Viktor's at Sarah's building," he said, sliding the device away. "Your essentials will be packed and delivered soon."
Her breath caught. "What about Sarah? She doesn't know I'm leaving—"
"She'll be told you had a family emergency. Someone we both trust will check on her tonight." He rose, straightening his tie with practiced precision. "You see? I think of everything."
Everything but asking what I want.
"This feels like kidnapping," she said, voice shaking with honesty.
"You're being rescued," he countered smoothly, though the word rang hollow. "Rescued from fear. From poverty. From living at the mercy of everyone else."
And thrust straight into his.
Kael walked to the intercom and pressed a button. His tone was calm, absolute. "Marcus, prepare the penthouse. Ms. Chen will be staying indefinitely."
Indefinitely. Not six months. Indefinitely.
"The contract says six months," she blurted.
"The contract says six months minimum." He didn't even glance at her. "Extensions apply if both parties are satisfied."
Mutual satisfaction. Except mine isn't the kind he measures.
Another buzz from his phone. His lips curved, genuine pleasure flashing for the first time.
"Perfect timing." He looked up, eyes locking on her like a hunter sighting prey. "Your things are collected. The penthouse is ready. Your new life begins now."
New life. My old one erased like it never mattered.
Elara rose, her legs unsteady. The ring felt like it weighed more than her whole hand. "I don't suppose I get to see the place before moving in?"
"You'll see it when you live in it." His voice was steel wrapped in silk. "Which is tonight."
The elevator chimed softly, its doors sliding open like a mouth waiting to swallow her.
"Kael." His first name escaped her lips without thought. "What if this doesn't work? What if I can't convince anyone we're in love?"
He crossed the space between them in two strides, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of smoke and gunpowder that clung to him like a second skin. Close enough to see flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
"Then you'll learn," he said simply. "Because failure isn't an option—for me, for you, for this."
His hand rose, cupping her cheek with a tenderness that cut sharper than any command. His thumb traced the line of her cheekbone, his touch both terrifying and devastatingly gentle.
"Besides," he murmured, his velvet whisper sliding under her skin, "I think you'll be a very quick study."
The elevator stood waiting, but she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe past the way he was looking at her—like the contract was nothing, like the real claim had been staked the moment she'd met his eyes.
Without breaking the gaze, Kael spoke. "Viktor, collect her things. She's moving into the penthouse tonight."
And that was it. My old life ended in a whisper. The new one—whatever it would become—began here, with him.