The air in the boardroom crackled. Damien's whispered words hung between them, a declaration of war that only she could understand. The board members, frozen in their seats, looked back and forth between the two of them, their confusion palpable.
Damien straightened up, his chilling smirk gone, replaced by an impenetrable mask of command.
"Everyone, out," he ordered, his voice deceptively calm.
The directors scrambled to obey, gathering their papers and practically tripping over themselves to exit the room. They didn't dare whisper, didn't dare look back. In seconds, the heavy doors clicked shut, leaving Ariana alone with the one man in the world she both feared and hated with every fiber of her being.
He didn't move from his position at the head of the table. He just watched her, his dark eyes stripping away her defenses, layer by layer.
"That was a bold move, little ghost," he said softly. "Walking into my tower. Proposing a merger of sorts in front of my entire board. You have one chance to tell me why I shouldn't have security throw you from the top floor."
"Because you need me," Ariana said, her voice steady despite the frantic pounding of her heart. "You and I both know there are enemies circling your company, picking at the foundations. They're my enemies, too. A marriage between us—a united front—is the last thing they would expect. It would buy you time. And it would give me a shield."
He began to walk then, a slow, predatory circle around the long table, his footsteps the only sound in the vast room. He moved like a panther, all controlled power and lethal grace.
"A shield," he mused, stopping behind her. She could feel his presence, a scorching heat at her back. "You think I can protect you? Or are you planning to hide behind my name while you sharpen your own knives?"
She didn't turn. "Does it matter, as long as our goals align?"
"Everything matters," he whispered, his voice suddenly right beside her ear. He had moved without a sound. She flinched. He smiled. "So, yes, I'll accept your proposal. But my acceptance comes with terms. Non-negotiable."
He stepped in front of her, backing her up against the floor-to-ceiling window. The entire city sprawled out below them, a kingdom he commanded. He placed a hand on the glass on either side of her head, caging her in.
"First," he began, his voice dropping low, "you will live in my house. My car. My plane. You will not go anywhere without my knowledge and approval."
"Second," he continued, leaning closer, his gaze burning into hers, "you will obey my every command without question. In public and in private. You will be the perfect, doting wife. My devotion to you will be the talk of the town. And your loyalty to me will be absolute."
"And third," he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip, sending a jolt of unwanted electricity through her. "You will not fall for anyone else. Your heart, your body, your soul... while this contract lasts, they all belong to me." He leaned back slightly, a cruel glint in his eyes. "You want to play this game with me, Ariana? You should know... I always win."
This was his trap. His gilded cage. He was trying to break her, to own her before she could even make her first move. She saw the challenge in his eyes and met it with the fire of her own.
"Fine," she said, her voice clear and sharp.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise at her quick acceptance. He thought she would argue. He thought she was still the weak girl he'd known before.
Without another word, he grabbed her hand, his grip like steel, and pulled her from the room. He strode through the lobby, dragging her behind him, past the gawking employees. He stopped at the front desk, in front of the stunned receptionist.
"Draft a preliminary marriage agreement," he commanded his assistant over the phone. "Now." Then he turned back to Ariana. He pulled her flush against him, his hand tangling in her hair, and crushed his lips to hers.
It wasn't a kiss. It was a brand. A public declaration of ownership. It was rough, demanding, and full of a dark promise that stole the breath from her lungs. In that moment, she was nothing but his.
When he finally pulled back, she was dazed, her lips bruised. He was breathing heavily, his eyes blazing with a triumphant fire.
She looked up at him, and with all the sweetness she could muster, she smiled.
"You'll regret ever touching me," she whispered, a vow spoken in the ashes of her past life.
A shadow crossed his face, but he said nothing. He simply led her out into the waiting car.
That night, in a sprawling guest suite in his silent, empty mansion, sleep offered no escape. She felt like an animal in a trap, waiting for the hunter to return. Hours later, her door creaked open. She feigned sleep, her body rigid, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She felt his presence by the bed, a dark shadow standing over her. He watched her for what felt like an eternity, his gaze a physical weight on her skin. She heard him take a deep, shuddering breath, a sound so full of raw, hidden emotion it startled her.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a broken whisper, meant only for himself.
"This time, I won't let you die," he vowed to the sleeping girl. "This time, I'll keep you. No matter what it takes."