The rain fell like it had a personal vendetta.
Lila Monroe stood beneath the crystal chandelier of the Grand Aurelia Hotel, her wedding gown clinging heavily to her skin, soaked not just by rain but by humiliation. Guests whispered behind champagne glasses. Phones were discreetly lowered. Pity had a sound—it was quiet, sharp, and unforgiving.
The groom was gone.
Thirty minutes ago, the ballroom had been alive with music and laughter. Now, the string quartet had fallen silent, the flowers felt mockingly bright, and the aisle she was meant to walk down looked like a path to nowhere.
"Miss Monroe…" the wedding planner whispered nervously. "Should we… postpone?"
Lila laughed. A hollow, brittle sound escaped her lips.
Postpone what? A lie?
Her fingers curled around the envelope still clutched in her hand—the one delivered minutes before the ceremony. No name. No apology. Just the truth.
He never loved you. He needed your last name.
The words burned through her chest like acid.
Ethan Clarke. The man she had trusted. The man she had defended against her father's suspicions. The man she had planned forever with.
He had vanished with company secrets and a carefully calculated exit.
Lila lifted her chin. If she cried now, she would shatter completely—and she refused to give anyone that satisfaction.
"I want the room cleared," she said calmly.
The planner blinked. "E–Everyone?"
"Yes," Lila replied. Her voice was steady, but her heart was collapsing inward. "It's over."
As the guests were ushered out, her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Number: I warned you.
Her breath caught.
She knew exactly who it was.
Dominic Blackwood.
The name alone carried weight—danger wrapped in wealth, power sharpened by rumor. He was the man her father called necessary evil and the business world called untouchable. Dominic Blackwood didn't issue warnings. He issued consequences.
She typed back with trembling fingers.
Lila: What do you want from me?
The reply came instantly.
Dominic: Your cooperation. Meet me tonight.
Minutes later, a black luxury car waited outside the hotel like a silent predator. Lila stared at her reflection in the tinted window—mascara streaked, lips pale, eyes burning with something new.
Resolve.
She slid inside.
The car smelled faintly of leather and cedar. Dominic sat opposite her, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes flicked briefly to her gown, then back to her face.
"You're late," he said calmly.
"My fiancé stole from my family and disappeared," she replied coldly. "Forgive the delay."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I never liked him."
"You knew," she accused.
"I suspected," Dominic corrected. "There's a difference."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and dangerous.
"Why am I here?" Lila demanded.
Dominic leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Because your family empire is vulnerable. Because Ethan wasn't acting alone. And because enemies are circling you like vultures."
Her heart slammed violently. "You're lying."
"If I were," he said softly, "you'd already be ruined."
The car began to move.
Lila's nails dug into her palm. "What do you want, Dominic?"
"A contract," he replied.
She frowned. "Business?"
"Marriage."
The word struck her harder than any slap.
"You're insane."
"On the contrary," Dominic said smoothly. "I'm practical."
She laughed, shaking her head. "I just escaped one nightmare."
"And walked into another," he said without apology. "But mine comes with protection."
Lila's chest tightened. "You don't even like me."
"I don't need to," he said. "This marriage would be strategic. Public. Convincing."
"And what do I get?" she asked bitterly.
"Safety," he answered. "Your family's enemies will think twice. Your reputation will be restored. And Ethan's partners? They'll panic."
She stared at him, trying to read the man behind the calm authority.
"And you?" she asked. "What do you get?"
Dominic's gaze darkened. "Control."
The honesty chilled her.
"You'd own me."
"No," he corrected. "You'd stand beside me."
The car stopped in front of a towering glass building—his residence.
Lila exhaled shakily. Everything in her screamed to run. But she had already lost too much.
"How long?" she asked quietly.
"One year," Dominic replied. "After that, you're free."
Freedom.
The word tasted strange on her tongue.
She met his eyes. "And if I refuse?"
Dominic's voice dropped. "Then I can't protect you from what's coming."
Thunder rolled in the distance.
Lila closed her eyes for a brief moment—long enough to bury the girl who believed in fairytales.
When she opened them, she nodded.
"One year," she said. "On my terms."
Dominic smiled—slow, dangerous, satisfied.
"Welcome to hell, Mrs. Blackwood."