In front of the flashing cameras,he played the part of a lovesick groom.
But his hand on the small of her back?That was no act.It was a brand.A command.
Elara Larsen stood frozen beneath the stage lights,the diamond choker at her throat catching every flash,a cold reminder of who owned her.
The press conference room inside Vance Enterprises buzzed with life —reporters shouting, photographers pushing, lenses fixed on them both.
And beside her, Damien Vance was perfection.Tailored suit. Controlled smile.Charm carved into every gesture.
To the world, he was a man in love.To her, he was the warden of a velvet prison.
Her heart pounded.The emerald gown he'd chosen clung to her body like a claim.The choker pressed against her skin — locked, unyielding.A promise of possession.
She forced a smile anyway,her lips trembling as his arm tightened around her waist.They saw a fairy tale.She felt the bars of her cage.
Damien stepped up to the podium.The noise faded instantly.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began,his voice smooth — that dangerous kind of charm that made people forget to breathe.
"I'm thrilled to share the happiest news of my life."He paused just long enough to let the suspense build."Elara Larsen, my partner in every sense,has agreed to be my wife."
The room erupted.Cameras flashed like gunfire.
Elara's stomach twisted.Her smile wavered.Damien's hand tightened — a warning disguised as affection.
He turned to her, his expression soft for the crowd but hard for her."Elara has been by my side for years," he continued."She's quietly stolen my heart.Our romance was a whirlwind — a secret we kept close,until now."
He smiled, perfectly scripted."She's my everything.And I'm honored to call her mine."
Applause thundered.The reporters melted under his charm.They saw devotion.She saw manipulation wrapped in silk and diamonds.
Her throat burned with the truth she couldn't say —that she'd been forced into this.Blackmailed. Bought.Her family's survival traded for her freedom.
But she stayed silent.Because the cost of speaking was ruin.
Damien turned to her again,his eyes glinting under the lights.
"Isn't that right, darling?"He said it sweetly — loud enough for the microphones.But beneath the honeyed tone, there was steel.
Elara forced her voice steady."Yes," she said softly."It's… a dream come true."
The crowd swooned.Cameras clicked.Her smile cracked.
Damien's lips curved — approval, not affection."Good girl," he murmured,so quietly only she could hear."Keep smiling."
Then, before she could react,he kissed her.
It wasn't tenderness.It was a claim.Hard, consuming, final.
His hand held the back of her neck,his mouth devouring hers as flashes exploded around them.
The world saw passion.She felt violation.
And yet —beneath the humiliation —a spark flickered in her chest.Heat. Shame. Fury.
She hated him for it.She hated herself more.
When he pulled back,his lips brushed hers one last time — a quiet warning.
The audience erupted in cheers.He raised her hand, displaying the massive diamond ring —a glittering shackle to match the choker.
"Thank you all," Damien said smoothly."We look forward to sharing our journey with you."
The press conference dissolved into chaos.Questions flew. Cameras followed.
But through it all,his arm never left her waist.He guided her offstage like she was part of the act —his final prop in a perfectly staged illusion.
The moment the doors closed behind them,his warmth vanished.So did the act.
He stepped back,his eyes sharp again,his voice colder than glass.
"You performed adequately," he said."But you'll need to do better.The world is watching, Elara.Every misstep reflects on me."
Her control snapped."I did what you asked!" she hissed."I smiled. I lied. I played your game. What more do you want?"
He smiled faintly — a ghost of satisfaction."Everything."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek tablet."Your new schedule," he said. "Read it. Memorize it. Live by it."
Her fingers trembled as she swiped the screen.Each line was a chain —public appearances, fittings, meals, workouts, medical appointments —every hour accounted for.
Then she saw it.Tonight, 9:00 PM — Conception Attempt.
Her breath caught.Her vision blurred."Tonight?" she whispered.
His expression didn't change.His eyes darkened."Your body is at its peak fertility," he said quietly."We begin tonight."
The words hit like a blade.
Her knees gave way,and she caught herself against the wall.
"Damien…" she breathed."Please. This is too fast. I need—"
"You need to obey," he cut in.
He stepped closer,tilting her chin up until her eyes met his."You signed the contract," he said."You agreed to this.Your body. Your future. Your everything.All of it belongs to me."
Tears stung her eyes,but she refused to let them fall.
She wouldn't break.Not here.Not for him.
But when she looked down at the tablet again,the schedule blurred.Her pulse thundered in her ears.
She was trapped.
Damien turned away,adjusting his cufflinks,his voice smooth and final.
"Get in the car," he said."We have a dinner to attend.You'll smile, you'll charm,and you'll be the perfect wife."
Elara nodded,her throat too tight to speak.
Outside, the Rolls-Royce waited.She slid into the back seat,the cold leather against her bare skin making her shiver.
Damien joined her,his thigh pressing against hers —a silent reminder that even here,she wasn't free.
The city lights streaked past the windows.Her fingers brushed the diamonds at her throat.The locked clasp bit into her skin.
She was his.Marked. Bound.
And tonight at 9 PM,he would claim her in a way that would break her completely.
The thought sent a shiver through her —fear,and something darker.
As the car sped into the night,one truth echoed in her mind.
She was his.And there was no escape.