The music slowed. His hand slid lower on my back. "Careful," I hissed. "Rules say touching only when required."
"This is required," he replied. "The inheritance board is here. They need to believe I'm obsessed."
"Obsessed?" I scoffed. "You're obsessed with control. Why not marry Victoria if she's so perfect?"
"Because she loved the money more than the game," he answered. "You hate the money. Perfect balance."
Victoria appeared beside us mid-dance. "Mind if I cut in, fiancée? Old times' sake."
"Actually I do mind," I snapped. "He's mine tonight. Back off."
Damien's eyes flashed surprise. "Elara's right. Find another dance partner, Victoria."
She leaned in close. "Enjoy the spotlight while it lasts, slum girl. He'll toss you when the year ends. Just like the contract says."
My stomach dropped. "You really told her everything?"
"Later," Damien whispered harshly. "Keep dancing. Ignore her."
I pulled back slightly. "I want out of this deal right now."
"Too late," he said. "You signed. Fifty million or your mother dies waiting. Choose."
The song ended. He dipped me low, face inches from mine. "Smile or lose everything."
My heart pounded. "One year. Then I'm gone forever."
His lips brushed my ear. "We'll see about that, darling."
I yanked away the second the music stopped. "Don't you dare say that like it means something. The dance is over. Take your hands off me."
He kept one palm on my lower back as we walked toward the exit. "Cameras are still flashing outside. Smile until the limo door closes or the deal dies tonight."
"You keep saying that," I shot back. "Deal this, deal that. What about the part where Victoria knew the exact fifty-million number? She called me slum girl and mentioned the contract like she read it herself. Explain that right now."
Damien guided me through the crowd. "Lower your voice. People are watching. Victoria knows nothing important. She guessed. Exes always guess."
"Guessed?" I hissed, waving at a reporter with a fake smile. "She said 'when the year ends' like it's written on the wall. Did you sleep with her while planning this fake marriage with me?"
"Watch your tone in public," he warned. "And no, I didn't. Victoria was last year. She's bitter because I cut her off when she tried to sell company secrets. That's all."
We reached the limo. The driver opened the door. I slid in first. "That's not all. She looked at me like I stole her prize. And you let her call me gold-digger on the dance floor without saying a word."
Damien climbed in after me. The door shut. The partition went up. "Finally private. Now you can drop the act. Yes, I let her talk because fighting her would make us look weak. The inheritance board was watching. They need to believe we're solid."
"Solid?" I laughed bitterly. "I just spent three hours pretending to adore a man who destroyed my family. My dad texted me during the gala saying the whole Lagos community is calling me a traitor for marrying you. A traitor, Damien!"
He poured two glasses of whiskey. "Drink. You'll need it. Your dad signed the same papers that forced this. He knows the money saves your mother. Tell him to stop whining."
I shoved the glass away. "Don't call my father a whiner. He built Voss Architectural from a small Lagos office with one drafting table. You crushed it in one morning. Now I'm stuck living with the monster who did it. And Victoria knows details she shouldn't. Did you show her the contract?"
Damien took a slow sip. "No. She hacked my assistant's email six months ago. Old news. I changed everything after that. She's fishing. Ignore her."
"Ignore her?" I repeated. "She called me slum girl in front of two hundred people. I'm from Lagos, not the slums. My mother taught me English before I could walk. My father sent me to the best school in Nigeria. Don't you dare let anyone reduce me to that again."
He set his glass down hard. "Then act like the wife I paid for. Next time she speaks, you smile and say 'Darling, let's go home' and walk away. That's the rule."
"Rule?" I snapped. "I'm reading the contract again tonight. It says no intimacy, no real feelings, touching only when required. That dance felt required in a very wrong way. Your hand was way too low."
Damien leaned closer. "The inheritance board requires chemistry. They're voting on the CEO seat next month. If they think I'm in love, I keep control. If they smell fake, I lose everything. So yes, my hand goes where it needs to go."
"Everything?" I echoed. "You already have billions. Why risk marrying the woman who slapped you just for some board vote?"
"Because the old clause says the CEO must be married and stable," he explained. "My father wrote it before he died. Victoria leaked that too. She thought she'd be the one. Now it's you. Lucky you."
"Lucky?" I shouted. "My mother is in Lagos right now waiting for the Mount Sinai transfer you promised. The hospital called Dad today saying the first payment cleared. She cried for an hour. That's the only reason I'm not jumping out of this moving car right now."
Damien checked his watch. "Good. Payment confirmed. Your mother starts chemo Monday. Happy?"
"Happy would be never seeing your face again after this year," I fired back. "But Victoria said you drop women in six months. Is that true? Because if you're planning to kick me out early, I want it in writing."
He laughed coldly. "Victoria lies. The contract is ironclad. Three hundred and sixty-five days exactly. Not one less. After that you get your fifty million and disappear. I don't need you longer than that."
The limo stopped at the penthouse. The driver opened the door. "We're home, sir."
Damien stepped out first and offered his hand. "Take it. One last show for the doorman."
I grabbed it roughly. "This is the last time tonight."
We walked inside. In the private elevator he still held my hand. "Tomorrow you move your things into the walk-in closet I assigned. No arguments."
"Fine," I muttered. "But I want my own laptop. No monitoring my searches."
"Already installed with tracking," he replied. "For security."
The elevator dinged. We stepped into the dark hallway. He didn't let go of my hand.