The conference room smelled like money and restraint.
Elena noticed everything—the polished obsidian table, the soundproof walls, the discreet guards stationed just outside the door. Romano security. Efficient. Silent. Dangerous.
Alessandro stood at the head of the table, jacket removed, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looked less like a groom-to-be and more like a man preparing for war.
Which, Elena suspected, was exactly what this was.
"Sit," he said calmly.
She didn't.
"I'll stand," she replied. "I want to remember that this is a choice."
His gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary, then he nodded once. "As you wish."
The lawyer—older, sharp-eyed, Roman accent—cleared his throat and slid the contract forward. The document was thick. Too thick for a simple marriage agreement.
Elena took it anyway.
She read in silence.
Clause after clause unfolded like a cage built with precision.
Public unity.
Private discretion.
No interviews without approval.
Security under Romano command.
Residency requirements.
Termination penalties severe enough to ruin reputations—and lives.
Her jaw tightened.
"This isn't a marriage," she said finally. "It's an acquisition."
Alessandro leaned back against the table, arms crossed. "Everything is an acquisition, Elena. The difference is whether you benefit."
She looked up sharply. "And how exactly do I benefit?"
"You stay alive."
The words were quiet.
Final.
The room seemed to shrink.
Elena closed the contract slowly. "You're threatening me."
"No," he corrected. "I'm being honest. There are people watching you now. People who won't stop at intimidation."
Her pulse quickened, but her voice remained steady. "And you're the solution."
"I'm the shield," he said. "Whether you like it or not."
She studied him—really studied him this time. The controlled stillness. The lack of hesitation. Alessandro Romano wasn't pretending. He believed every word.
"That night," she said softly, "was that part of this plan too?"
Something unreadable crossed his face.
"No," he said. "That was the mistake."
Her chest tightened at that—anger and something dangerously close to disappointment.
"Then let's correct it," Elena said, flipping the contract open again. "On my terms."
The lawyer stiffened. Alessandro's eyes sharpened with interest.
She moved closer to the table, placing her palms flat against the glass surface.
"I want amendments."
"Go on," Alessandro said.
"Clause seven," she continued. "You don't control my business decisions."
"Denied."
"Then this ends here."
Silence snapped tight between them.
Alessandro straightened slowly. "Conditional approval," he said after a moment. "In matters that don't affect security."
Elena nodded once. "Clause nine. No monitoring my personal communications."
He smiled faintly. "Absolutely denied."
"Then remove the word unrestricted," she countered. "You'll know where I am, not what I'm thinking."
A pause.
Then a nod.
The lawyer scribbled notes furiously.
"And finally," Elena said, lifting her gaze to Alessandro's, "this marriage does not make me obedient."
Something dark and pleased flickered in his eyes.
"I wouldn't insult you by asking," he said.
The lawyer slid a pen toward her. "If you're satisfied, Miss Winters—"
"Elena," she corrected.
She signed.
The ink dried faster than her heartbeat slowed.
When Alessandro signed his name beneath hers, the sound of pen against paper echoed louder than it should have.
It was done.
They were bound.
Later, alone in the private corridor, Elena stopped walking.
"This doesn't mean you own me," she said without turning.
Alessandro halted behind her, close enough that she felt the heat of him without contact.
"I don't want ownership," he replied quietly. "I want alignment."
She laughed softly. "You'll regret that."
"I already do," he said. "And we're only beginning."
She turned then, eyes blazing. "We are not lovers."
"No," he agreed. "We're liabilities to each other."
His hand lifted—not touching her, but close enough to make the space between them ache.
"Which makes this far more dangerous."
For the first time since signing the contract, Elena felt fear.
Not of him.
But of what this marriage might turn her into.