The moment Ivy's pen lifted from the paper, the world felt strangely silent too silent.
Ethan Cole slid the contract back toward himself with calm, precise movements, as though he hadn't just taken possession of an entire woman's life with a single piece of paper.
He didn't smile. He didn't look triumphant.
He simply looked satisfied.
"You'll move into my residence tomorrow," he said, his gaze cutting through her. "A driver will pick you up at 8 a.m."
She swallowed, her throat tight. "So soon?"
"We are on a schedule," he replied. "Appearances must be maintained."
She hated how easily he spoke, how effortlessly he controlled every detail.
Her fingers curled into fists.
"And my mother?" Ivy whispered, because that was the only part she cared about.
"Already taken care of," Ethan said. "Her bills are paid. She has a private room now better care, better doctors."
Ivy's breath hitched. For a brief second, relief washed over her, warm and overwhelming.
But then she saw the way he watched her like he was studying the exact moment the cage door closed around her.
"Don't mistake my assistance for kindness," Ethan said, rising from his chair. "It's business. Nothing more."
Her relief froze into something brittle and sharp.
She stood too, clutching her bag like a shield. "I didn't mistake anything, Mr. Cole."
His eyebrow lifted slightly at her tone.
He moved around his desk, stopping just inches from her. He was tall, taller than she remembered. And up close, he felt even more dangerous. The kind of man who never lost. The kind of man who didn't know how.
He leaned in, voice low. "From this moment forward, you belong to my world. That means my rules, my expectations, my pace."
"I'm not your property," she whispered.
"On paper," he said, brushing past her, "you just became exactly that."
Her heart dropped. Her cheeks burned. But she refused to let him see her break.
She walked out of his office without another word.
But the moment she stepped into the elevator, her strength collapsed like a house of cards. Tears stung her eyes,she wiped them away angrily.
No more crying. No more weakness.
She chose this.
No, she was forced into this.
But she signed.
That meant she had to survive it.
By the time she got home, exhaustion clung to her bones. The silence of her tiny apartment felt heavier than ever. She sank onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She had a new home now.
A new life.
A marriage in name only if one could call it that.
Her phone vibrated.
Hospital:
Your mother's condition is now stable. Transfers completed. She's moved to the private wing.
Another message.
Unknown Number:
Your eviction has been canceled. You won't be removed from the property.
—EC
Ivy blinked slowly.
He fixed her mother's bills.
He stopped the eviction he caused.
He controlled everything.
Her life was now a balance sheet and Ethan Cole had complete ownership.
The thought twisted in her stomach.
She lay awake long after midnight, wondering how her life had been chosen,targeted by this man.
And why her?
Morning came too quickly.
The knock on her door was punctual ,8:00 a.m. on the dot.
Ivy hurriedly grabbed her small suitcase and opened the door.
A well-dressed driver bowed slightly. "Miss Bennett. Mr. Cole is expecting you."
The car was luxurious too luxurious. Soft leather, quiet interior, a different world from her own.
As the city blurred past the window, her nerves tightened. She wasn't just going to any house.
She was going to his house.
The home of the man who tore her life apart simply because he wanted her signature.
Why me?
The question refused to leave her mind.
The Cole Estate wasn't a house it was a fortress.
Tall iron gates slid open silently. The driveway seemed endless, lined with tall trees and elegant stone lamps. The mansion stood at the center like a monument carved for royalty.
Ivy stared, momentarily speechless.
Inside, the interior was all marble floors, high ceilings, warm gold lighting luxury she had only ever seen on magazine covers.
A maid approached her politely.
"Miss Bennett? Please follow me."
She led Ivy upstairs to a room more beautiful than any hotel suite she'd ever imagined soft cream walls, tall windows, and a king-sized bed that looked sinfully comfortable.
"This will be your room," the maid said gently.
"My room?"
"Yes."
Not their room.
Of course not.
She wasn't here for love.
She was here because she had no choice.
As the maid left, Ivy sank onto the bed, overwhelmed.
She didn't belong here.
She didn't fit here.
She felt like a stain on pristine marble.
She was still trying to breathe when the door opened without warning.
Ethan walked in.
No knock.
No courtesy.
Just presence massive, commanding, filling the entire room like shadow and heat.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, eyes unreadable.
"You'll need to be ready in an hour," he said. "We have a public appearance to make."
"What?" Ivy stared. "Already?"
"This marriage is for reputation, Miss Bennett. Appearances must be crafted carefully. And quickly."
Her pulse quickened. "I don't know anything about being someone's wife especially yours."
"You'll learn."
Simple. Cold.
He turned to leave but paused at the door.
His eyes softened, just barely.
A crack in the mask.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "your mother is improving."
Ivy stared at him, startled by the hint of gentleness in his voice.
It disappeared as fast as it came.
He left without waiting for her response.
The room felt colder when he was gone.
An hour later, Ivy found herself descending the marble staircase in a cream-colored dress the maid had chosen elegant but modest. She felt exposed, vulnerable, completely out of place.
Ethan waited at the bottom of the stairs.
For a moment, his eyes swept over her slow, assessing. Something flickered across his face. Approval? Surprise? She couldn't tell.
"You look presentable," he said.
She almost rolled her eyes. Almost.
He offered his arm.
She hesitated.
His gaze hardened slightly. "We're partners now, Miss Bennett. Whether you like it or not."
With a stiff breath, she placed her hand on his arm.
Warm. Solid. Too steady.
They stepped outside, into a sea of flashing cameras.
Ivy froze.
Paparazzi.
Lights burst.
Voices shouted.
Her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy.
Ethan leaned toward her, lips near her ear not touching, but close enough to steal her breath.
"Smile," he murmured. "You're mine now."
Something in her chest ached sharply.
But she forced a small, trembling smile.
Cameras flashed faster.
"Mr. Cole, is this your new fiancée?"
"Why her?"
"How long have you two been together?"
Ethan answered smoothly, flawlessly.
"This woman beside me," he said, pulling her closer, "is the only one I chose."
Ivy's breath shook.
He was lying.
He knew it.
She knew it.
But the world believed him anyway.
And as the cameras kept flashing, Ivy realized something terrifying:
She had stepped into a life she didn't understand
and into the arms of a man she didn't know.
A man who had destroyed everything she knew
and now held the power to destroy her.