Richard's POV
The polished oak desk in Mr. Ramen's study smelled faintly of leather and old money. The kind of room that reminded you exactly who held power—and who obeyed it. I sat across from him, pen in hand, the contract stretched between us like a trap, a promise, and a challenge all at once.
Mr. Ramen's expression was unreadable, carved from years of controlling everything and everyone in his orbit. His eyes scanned me with a calm precision that made me want to move, to act, but I knew better. I couldn't let impatience ruin this.
"Sign here," he said, tapping the line where my name already waited in ink.
I paused. The pen hovered above the paper. "And if… she doesn't sign?" I asked, my voice even. Careful.
His lips twitched, almost a smile, though his eyes didn't soften. "She will. Trust me, Richard. She has no choice."
I raised an eyebrow. "You sound awfully confident about that."
"It's not confidence. It's strategy." His hands folded neatly on the desk. "I understand leverage. And you, Mr. Drake, understand contracts. This one will be honored. Whether she likes it or not."
I studied the contract. Every word, every clause, was designed to corner, to bind, and to intimidate. Exactly how I liked it. My empire was built on rules—and breaking them always came with consequences. This wasn't different.
I signed. The sound of the pen scratching against the thick paper felt final, irrevocable.
Mr. Ramen signed next, his sharp movements efficient, practiced. The contract was done. It was official. And I knew, even before seeing the other signature, that Audrey Ramen would be walking into my world tonight.
I leaned back in my chair. "And again—if she refuses?"
"She won't." His voice was like stone. "You'll see her tonight. She will come."
I smiled faintly. Not for him, but for myself. This was the beginning. The first move in a game where I didn't lose. Not tonight.
—------------
Audrey's POV
The knock at my door wasn't polite. It didn't have the soft hesitation of someone coming to check if I was asleep. It was the kind of knock that demanded obedience.
"Audrey!"
My father's voice rang louder than usual. I sat up immediately, heart already racing.
The door swung open and he strode in, paper in hand. He didn't bother with pleasantries.
He thrust the papers onto my bed. "This," he said, voice sharp, "is your life from this moment on. You have until tonight to sign. Then you leave for your husband's house."
I froze, staring at the paper. My eyes tracked the bold letters, my name in the lines, every clause like a rope tightening around my wrists.
"I—what?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "This isn't… you can't just…"
"Can't just what?" he interrupted. "You have until tonight. You sign. You get ready. You go. This has already been decided."
I swallowed. The room suddenly felt too small. My hands shook slightly as I reached for the paper.
"Why me?" I whispered. But I already knew. I was the youngest, the one no one thought mattered. The one they could sacrifice.
He didn't answer. He turned and left, leaving the door wide open and my world suddenly smaller than it had ever been.
I stared at the contract like it was poison. Every word was a chain, every line a sentence. And I couldn't escape it—not without starting a war I didn't know how to fight.
I sat there for what felt like hours, reading and rereading the clauses. My mind spun. Richard Drake. The man's name burned on the page like fire. Billionaire. Powerful. Dangerous. I didn't know him. I hadn't met him. But already I could feel the weight of every rumor, every warning whispered through the city, pressing against my chest.
—---------
Later, my mother came into my room. Her face was pale, her hands trembling slightly as she held my shoulders.
"Audrey… my sweet girl," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry."
I pulled back instinctively. "For what?" I asked, even though the words didn't match my disbelief.
"For all of this." She nodded toward the contract. "For the life your father has decided for you. You have to be careful. You have to… survive."
I swallowed hard. "How do you survive marrying a man I don't even know? A man who… who owns more than the city I live in?"
She shook her head. Tears pricked her eyes. "You are clever. Stronger than you think. Trust your instincts, Audrey. Listen to no one but yourself."
I hated the tears, hated the softness, hated the helplessness in her voice that mirrored the helplessness in me.
She pressed a small hand to my cheek. "Go. Do what you must. And—" she paused, voice trembling—"and stay alive. Promise me that, at least."
I nodded wordlessly. Words failed me, because nothing I could say would undo this.
—---------
The car arrived just as the sun dipped below the horizon. My father had given me strict instructions: get in, obey, leave. No questions.
The driver, young but professional, opened the door. I stepped inside, and the leather smelled like authority, power, and inevitability.
I glanced back at my house. The window where my mother had stood, the one I knew would be watching, staring silently at me. Her hand pressed to her lips. I held back a surge of anger and despair.
I settled into the seat. My heart hammered, not because of fear, but because of the unknown. Because of him. Richard Drake. My… husband.
And as the city lights flickered past the tinted windows, I couldn't stop the thought that would not leave my mind:
I have to survive him. I have to survive tonight.
Because after tonight, nothing would ever be the same.