The soft chime of the elevator echoed once more as Ariana returned to Damien's office the following evening.
This time, her steps were steadier, but her stomach still twisted in knots. She clutched the contract folder against her chest like a fragile shield.
The large glass doors opened silently. Damien sat in the same position as before, his posture perfect, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Miss Blake," he greeted, voice as calm as ever. "Have you made your decision?"
Ariana swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the folder.
"My father needs that surgery. And I" her voice trembled, "I have no other way."
Damien studied her for a moment, as if reading every flicker of doubt in her expression.
"Very well," he said smoothly. "Then let us review the terms."
He gestured to the chair across from him. Ariana sat down, forcing herself to meet his eyes.
"The marriage will last exactly twelve months," Damien began, his tone clinical. "During that time, you will fulfill the role of my wife in public appearances, social functions, and business events."
"No romantic obligations," Ariana said quietly, repeating the clause that had haunted her all night.
"Correct," Damien confirmed. "There will be no expectations of affection or intimacy. This is strictly contractual."
She exhaled, feeling a strange mix of relief and humiliation.
"You will reside in my penthouse during the duration of the contract," he continued. "For appearances."
Ariana flinched slightly. Living under the same roof as him would not be easy.
"You will be provided with personal security, wardrobe, and staff. Your father's medical expenses will be fully covered immediately upon signing."
His words were cold, but they carried undeniable power. He wasn't offering charity he was offering a transaction.
"And afterward?" Ariana asked, her voice smaller now.
"Upon completion, you will receive a severance sum sufficient for your independence," Damien replied. "All legal documents will ensure your financial security and protection."
Ariana glanced down at the contract, the pages filled with precise legal language. Every clause locked her into a world she never imagined entering.
Her chest tightened.
"Why me?" she whispered again. "There are thousands of women who would line up for this."
Damien's jaw flexed, but his voice remained steady.
"Because I require discretion. No media scandals. No emotional attachments. You are... uniquely suitable."
Ariana's lips trembled slightly.
"You mean I'm desperate enough."
Damien's eyes narrowed briefly but he didn't deny it.
Silence hung between them like a heavy fog.
Finally, he slid a pen across the table.
"Sign, Miss Blake. And your father lives."
Her hand hovered over the pen, heart pounding.
This wasn't just a signature. It was the surrender of her freedom.
"For Dad," she reminded herself.
With a deep breath, Ariana picked up the pen and signed her name. Each stroke felt like a chain wrapping around her wrist.
Damien nodded, taking the folder.
"It's done," he said. "The funds will be transferred tonight. Your father's surgery will proceed first thing tomorrow."
Tears prickled Ariana's eyes, but she held them back.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Damien stood, his towering figure casting a long shadow.
"Pack your belongings. You will move into the Lancaster Penthouse tomorrow at noon. My assistant will arrange everything."
Ariana rose to leave, pausing for a brief moment before opening the door.
"Why do you need a wife so badly?" she asked softly, unable to contain her curiosity.
For a moment, Damien's expression remained unreadable.
"It's simply necessary for business," he said, his tone neutral. "Nothing more."
The door closed softly behind her, leaving the office in perfect silence.