Chapter 1:
Elara Quinn had learned how to pretend she wasn't afraid.
She folded the eviction notice slowly, carefully, as though the thin sheet of paper could feel her hesitation. Three days. That was all the time the landlord had given her. Three days to find money she didn't have, solutions she couldn't reach, and courage she wasn't sure still lived inside her.
The apartment felt smaller than usual that morning. The walls were bare, the furniture worn, but it had been hers — a fragile sense of safety she had fought to keep. Now, even that was slipping through her fingers.
She left early, the paper tucked deep inside her bag.
The café was quiet, the kind of quiet that made thoughts louder. Elara sat by the window, wrapping both hands around a cup of coffee she had no appetite for. Her phone lay face down on the table. She already knew no messages would be waiting for her.
When the chair across from her moved, she looked up instinctively.
The man was unfamiliar — tall, composed, dressed in a dark suit that didn't belong in a place like this. His presence felt deliberate, like he had arrived with purpose while she was still trying to survive the day.
"I can help you," he said.
Elara blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"I know you're about to lose your apartment," he continued calmly, as if he were discussing the weather.
Her grip tightened around the cup. "Who are you?"
Instead of answering, he slid a document across the table. It stopped inches from her hand.
"My name is Adrian Blackwood," he said. "And I'm offering you a solution."
Elara let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "If this is a joke, it's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
She hesitated before picking up the papers. The words blurred at first — legal language, terms, signatures. Then one sentence stood out, sharp and impossible.
Contract Marriage Agreement.
Her breath caught. "You expect me to—"
"Marry me," Adrian finished. "For one year."
The café felt suddenly too small.
"You're insane," she whispered.
"Possibly," he admitted. "But I'm also serious."
Her hands trembled as she set the document down. "Why me?"
"Because you need this," he replied. "And because I need a wife."
No affection. No romance. Just necessity.
"What happens after one year?" she asked quietly.
"We part ways. You walk away financially secure. No obligations beyond what's written here."
Elara stared at the contract, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Every instinct screamed for her to stand up and walk away. But reality was crueler than instinct.
Three days.
Adrian watched her in silence, giving her space while offering none.
"This isn't a choice between right and wrong," she finally said, her voice barely steady.
"No," he agreed. "It's a choice between survival and pride."
And for the first time in a long while, Elara wasn't sure which one she could afford.