The fire crackled softly behind Leora, but the warmth did little to thaw the tension in the room.
Don Allerick sat still, his expression unreadable as his fingers drummed slowly against the armrest of his wheelchair. The silence stretched, taut and dangerous.
Leora stood across from him, spine straight despite the storm inside her chest. She had walked into the den of the man her father had tried to destroy. Now, she was offering herself to him.
"You do realize what you're proposing, don't you?" Don Allerick asked at last, his voice low and deliberate. "A contract marriage with me, a man your father would gladly see buried."
"I know exactly what I'm offering," Leora replied. "And I know the risks."
His gray eyes lingered on her face, as if trying to peel away her layers. "Why me?"
"Because you're the only one he won't touch," she said. "The only one he fears."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Allerick's mouth. "Flattery won't get you far, sweetheart."
"It's not flattery," she said. "It's truth. He crippled you, and he knows one day you'll return the favor."
Allerick's gaze flickered, just for a moment. Then it hardened again, colder than before.
"And what makes you think I won't use you as bait? Hand you over with a ribbon around your neck and watch your father fall apart?"
Leora didn't blink. "Because I'm more valuable alive than dead."
Bold words. Dangerous ones. But she couldn't afford fear now.
He leaned forward, just slightly. "You think you're a bargaining chip, Valencia?"
"I know I am."
A silence followed. One of the guards shifted near the door, but neither of them noticed.
Finally, Allerick spoke again, his voice sharp like the edge of a blade. "You want to marry me. Live in my house. Wear my name. That's not a favor, it's a life sentence."
"I don't want your kindness," she said. "I want your protection. And in return, you get something no one else has, my father's pride, bleeding from a wound he can't stitch."
He laughed. A short, harsh sound that echoed off the stone walls.
"You've got guts," he said. "I'll give you that."
Leora swallowed. "Then you'll do it?"
"No."
The word hit her like a slap.
He wheeled forward slightly, the mechanical hum of his chair slicing the air. "Not until I hear everything. Full truth. What pushed the little princess to rebel?"
She hesitated.
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't play games, Leora. You want me to risk war for you? Then strip the lies and tell me why you're really here."
Her fists clenched. "My father is forcing me to marry Adam Luciano."
Allerick's brow lifted in mild surprise.
She continued, bitterness lacing her voice. "He arranged the deal without asking me. Told me I was to smile, obey, and become a trophy. Adam is cruel. Possessive. The kind of man who'd break a woman just to hear her scream."
Allerick's fingers stilled on the chair arm.
"I refused. He didn't like that," she said. "Neither did my father."
"What did he do?" Allerick asked softly.
She looked away. "Told me I could either marry Adam or spend the rest of my life locked away. No phones. No windows. Just walls."
A long, deadly silence followed.
"You ran," he said.
"I ran," she whispered.
He exhaled slowly, rubbing a finger over his temple. "So you thought running to your father's greatest enemy would keep you safe."
"I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," he replied. "You just picked the most dangerous one."
Leora stepped closer, her voice firm despite the quiver beneath. "Then make it worth the risk."
Allerick studied her again—her wide, defiant eyes, her clenched jaw, the tremble in her fingers she tried so hard to hide.
She was terrified. And still standing.
"You want terms?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Fine." He rolled back and summoned a guard with a flick of his fingers. "Bring Salvatore. And draft a marriage contract."
Leora's breath caught.
"But understand this," he added, fixing her with a piercing stare. "If you enter my world, there's no turning back. You'll be mine in name, sight, and blood. If anyone touches you, they answer to me. If you betray me....."
"I won't," she cut in.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We'll see."
By nightfall, the contract was drawn.
Leora sat at the long obsidian table across from Salvatore, Allerick's personal attorney. The man was clinical, efficient, and barely spared her a glance as he read the conditions aloud.
"No physical expectations unless mutually agreed upon," Salvatore said. "Duration: twelve months. If, after that period, both parties consent, marriage may be annulled or continued. Public appearances required to maintain the illusion. No romantic involvement outside the union until the contract ends."
Leora signed quickly, heart pounding. Allerick signed after, his hand steady.
"It's done," Salvatore said.
Leora looked up at Allerick. "What now?"
"Now," he said, "you move in. Starting tonight."
Her new room was nothing like the gilded cage back home.
It was simple, gray walls, minimalist decor, and a window overlooking the edge of the forest. Cold, but strangely peaceful. There was no trace of gold or polished mirrors here.
She sat on the bed and looked around, trying to understand what she'd just done. Married, in name, to a man who'd once vowed vengeance against her blood.
And yet, part of her felt… free.
She was no longer her father's puppet. No longer a helpless bride-to-be.
There was a knock at the door.
She stood, heart thudding. When she opened it, she found Allerick, alone.
He looked at her for a long moment. Then, calmly, he said, "Starting tomorrow, you'll act like my wife in front of my men. You'll eat at my table, speak with my name, and carry yourself like a queen. Understood?"
Leora nodded.
"And Leora?" he added, voice lower now.
"Yes?"
"I don't like secrets. If I ever find out you're lying to me, I won't ask questions."
She met his gaze. "I'm not."
He studied her a beat longer, then turned and rolled away.
She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.
This was only the beginning.