Hello, this is Nova's story—my story.
I live amongst the glittering skyscrapers of New York, a city where every breath is filled with movement and every corner hides a dream, or a nightmare. I'm a Business Management student at NYU, on a full scholarship, no less. My classes are at the Midtown campus, and every morning, I emerge from the subway, navigating the hectic streets with a coffee cup clutched in my hand. That warmth from the latte makes me feel alive—a tiny, comforting shield against the city's cold air.
My life hasn't always been like this. Everything changed after my father died. But now, at least, I have Dev. Just the thought of his name brings a smile to my lips. He's 22, the guy on campus who is the center of every party. His dark brown hair is always a little messy, like he just rolled out of bed, and his blue eyes—oh, those eyes. When they look at me, it feels like the whole world stops.
We met in a late-night study group. I was sitting alone in the library, head bent over balance sheets, when he walked up and said, "Hey, you think these numbers will ever let us go?" His laugh, deep and unreserved, made me laugh too. Since that moment, we've been inseparable. Our dates were spent wandering through Central Park, eating hot dogs, or kissing under the lights of Times Square. He calls me "My Little Star," because, according to him, I shine like the night.
This morning started just like any other. I was in my dorm room near Washington Square Park. The room is small, but it's mine—walls covered with posters, my books scattered everywhere, and a photo of Dev on my bedside table. I was getting ready for class, pulling on jeans and a sweater, when my phone vibrated.
The screen lit up with a name: Lillian. My stepmother.
I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Talking to Lillian always feels like preparing for battle. She's been an unwanted part of my life since my father's death. Her conversations always circle back to money, to my inheritance that I'll receive when I turn twenty-one. But I answered the call. Ignoring her only makes it worse.
"Hello, Mom?" I said, straining to keep my voice normal.
"Nova, you need to come home. Immediately." Her voice was cold, like a shard of ice. No emotion. Just an order.
"Why? What happened? I have class today," I asked, continuing to pack my bag. A strange unease was churning in my stomach.
"Just come. This is the biggest deal of your life. No excuses."
And the call ended.
I stood there, stunned. A deal? Lillian always speaks in business terms, but this? This was different. I quickly messaged Dev: "Babe, have to go home. See you tonight? Love you."
His reply was instant: "Okay, Star. What's up? Stay safe. I love you more."
I caught the subway from Downtown to Brooklyn. Sitting on the train, I stared out the window at the blur of tunnels and flickering lights. A thousand questions swirled in my head. Had my father's old debts resurfaced? Lillian never shared the details, but I knew our family was in financial trouble before he died.
As we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, I tried to convince myself it was something small. But my gut screamed that it was something huge.
The apartment building was old, a classic brownstone where I'd grown up. My footsteps felt heavy as I climbed the stairs. I opened the door and stopped dead at the sight inside.
Lillian was sitting on the living room sofa, and next to her was a man.
He looked to be in his forties, but his presence filled the entire room. Broad shoulders, a perfectly tailored black suit, and a face so sharp it could have been sculpted. His dark hair was streaked with subtle grey, and his eyes—a deep brown—held a glint that was terrifying.
I recognized him.
Damian Blackwood. The king of New York's business world. The owner of Blackwood Corporation—with interests in everything from real estate to tech. I'd seen him in Forbes magazine, labeled "The Wolf of Wall Street."
But what was he doing here?
"Nova, you're here," Lillian said, standing up. There was a strange gleam in her eyes—the gleam of greed. She always wears expensive clothes, but today she looked even more glamorous. "Meet Mr. Blackwood."
Damian rose to his feet. He was so tall I had to look up. He extended his hand, and when I took it, his grip was strong—overpoweringly so.
"Hello, Nova. I've heard a great deal about you." His voice was a deep rumble.
I pulled my hand back, confused. "What is going on? Why did you call me here?"
Lillian guided me to the sofa as if I were a child. "Dear, let's be direct. Mr. Blackwood has a proposal. He will clear all of your father's debts—millions of dollars. In return... you will become his wife."
My heart stopped. The room spun. "What? This is a joke, right?" I tried to laugh, but my voice trembled.
Damian's eyes were fixed on me—possessive, as if he already owned me. "No joke, Nova. I have chosen you. The wedding is tomorrow."
I shot to my feet, stumbling backward. "You're insane! I'm twenty! I have a life, I have a boyfriend! I won't do this!"
Lillian grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "You don't have a choice. Your father's debts will drown us. Damian has settled everything. This is the deal, and you are part of it."
I struggled, trying to run for the door, but two men in suits stood outside—guards. Damian gave a slight signal, and they blocked my path.
"Please, let me go," I begged, tears welling in my eyes.
But Damian stepped closer, his breath on my face. "If you run, I will find you, Nova. Like a hunter tracks its prey." His fingers brushed my chin. The touch was warm, but it sent a chill straight to my soul.
I tried to call Dev, but my phone had no signal—jammed, probably.
I was locked in my room all night, crying. Lillian sent in a dinner tray, but I couldn't eat. My mind was a whirlwind of questions. Why does Damian want me? He's rich, he's handsome—why marry a twenty-year-old girl? And Lillian—how much did she get paid for this deal?
Just before dawn, a message arrived from an unknown number: "Run away, and I will hunt you down. Like a wolf."
I trembled. Was that Damian? Outside, the city lights glittered, but my world had gone completely dark. Could I run? Or was this marriage my fate? I didn't know. The fear was so thick I could barely breathe.
The next morning, everything accelerated. Lillian took me to a dressing room. A white wedding gown hung there—designer, probably Vera Wang—but to me, it looked like a prison uniform.
"Put this on, Nova. Today is your big day," she said, summoning a makeup artist.
I resisted. "I won't! This is a forced marriage! It's illegal!"
But she just laughed. "In New York, money buys everything. Damian's connections—judges, lawyers—they're all his."
The makeup artist brushed my face, but my tears ruined her work. I looked at my reflection in the mirror—pale skin, red eyes. That wasn't me.
The ceremony was at St. Patrick's Cathedral, an iconic New York landmark. Media swarmed outside, but guards kept them at a distance. Inside, there were only a few guests—Damian's business associates. No family.
Damian stood at the altar, looking even more intimidating in his suit. I trembled as I walked down the aisle, Lillian gripping my arm firmly.
The priest began the readings, but all I could hear was the frantic beating of my own heart.
"Do you, Nova, take Damian to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
I stayed silent, until Lillian dug her elbow into my side.
"I do," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
During the ring exchange, Damian slid a diamond ring onto my finger. It was heavy, like a chain.
"You are mine," he whispered.
When he kissed me, his lips were cold, but the pressure was so firm I couldn't move.
Outside, rice was thrown, but it felt like stones pelting my skin.
We sat in the limousine headed for Manhattan. "Welcome to your new life, wife," Damian said, pouring champagne.
I said nothing, just stared out the window.
His penthouse was on Fifth Avenue, the top floor. The interior was dark—black leather sofas, glass walls showing a panoramic view of the city.
"This is your home now," he said, leading me inside.
"Why?" I finally managed to ask. "Why me?"
He smiled, stepping closer. "Because you are special, Nova. There's a fire in your eyes that I need."
His fingers traced a line along my throat, and I flinched back.
"Starting tomorrow, you are the CEO of my company. The head of Blackwood Enterprises."
"What? I'm not ready!"
He laughed. "I will train you. But first... our night."
My blood ran cold. I looked toward the bedroom door. What was going to happen? Where was Dev? Where was my phone?
The night was growing deeper, and a storm of questions raged inside me. Is this all a bad dream? Or a reality that is about to swallow me whole?