Elara stared at Damon, her mind reeling. A million dollars? For a year? To be… his? The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. She felt a strange mix of disbelief, outrage, and a sliver of morbid curiosity.
"I… I don't understand," she stammered, her voice barely audible above the thrum of the ballroom.
Damon's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering. "It's quite simple, Miss Hayes. A business arrangement. I require… companionship. For a year. In return, I will settle your debts and provide for your every need."
"Companionship?" Elara's voice rose slightly, a hint of indignation creeping in. "You mean… like a… a…"
"A kept woman?" Damon finished for her, his lips curving into a sardonic smile. "If you wish to put it so bluntly."
Elara's cheeks burned. The audacity of this man! To offer her such a proposition, as if she were some object to be bought and sold. Yet, beneath her anger, a flicker of something else stirred. A desperate hope. The million dollars could solve all her problems, erase the fear that had been her constant companion for so long.
"And if I refuse?" she challenged, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"Then you return to your life," Damon said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And I find someone else who is… more amenable to my terms."
The threat was clear, unspoken. Elara knew he wasn't bluffing. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, and she was in no position to bargain.
"I need time to think," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
"I will give you until tomorrow morning," Damon replied, his gaze still fixed on her. "My lawyer will deliver the contract to your apartment. Read it carefully. It is… comprehensive."
He turned to leave, dismissing her as easily as he had summoned her. Elara watched him go, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. She felt like a pawn in some twisted game, a lamb being led to slaughter.
Back in her cramped apartment, the contract arrived with the cold light of dawn. It was a thick document, filled with legal jargon that made her head spin. But the terms were clear: a million dollars, paid in installments, in exchange for her complete obedience and availability to Damon Blackwood for one year.
There were clauses about confidentiality, about her conduct, about her physical appearance. It was a cold, clinical document, devoid of any warmth or humanity. It was a transaction, pure and simple.
As she read, a growing sense of unease settled over her. This wasn't just a business arrangement; it was a surrender. A surrender of her freedom, her dignity, her very self.
Yet, the alternative was even bleaker. Eviction, poverty, the crushing weight of her mother's medical bills. Desperation warred with her pride, tearing her apart.
That evening, she found herself back at Blackwood Manor, the contract clutched in her trembling hand. The gates seemed to loom even larger now, the mansion a silent, imposing witness to her impending fate.
She was ushered into Damon's study, a room that reflected his personality: dark, elegant, and intimidating. He sat behind a massive mahogany desk, the city lights painting his face in stark shadows.
"Have you made your decision, Miss Hayes?" he asked, his voice low and resonant.
Elara took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked into his eyes, searching for a flicker of humanity, a hint of something beyond the cold detachment. But she found nothing.
"Yes," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll do it."
A ghost of a smile touched Damon's lips. "Very well. The year begins… now."
As she signed the contract, a shiver ran down her spine. She had just sold a year of her life to a man she barely knew, a man who seemed to possess a darkness that both terrified and intrigued her. What had she done? And what awaited her in the year to come?