Chapter 1: The Contract
I signed the marriage contract without reading it, because my family had already decided my fate.
The pen felt heavier than it should have in my trembling fingers, as if it knew this single signature would erase the life I thought I had. The room was quiet—too quiet—except for the ticking of the expensive wall clock that counted down the last seconds of my freedom.
"Sign it," my uncle said sharply. "Don't embarrass us."
I lifted my eyes from the paper and looked around the living room that had once felt like home. Now it felt like a courtroom. My aunt sat stiffly on the couch, lips pressed together. My cousin avoided my gaze completely. No one defended me. No one asked if I agreed.
This wasn't a request. It was a sale.
"Why him?" I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.
My uncle scoffed. "Do you know how much debt your father left behind? Do you know what it took to keep this family from collapsing?"
I swallowed. I knew. I had known since the day men started coming to the house with files and threats.
"He offered to clear everything," my aunt added, her voice cold. "All you have to do is marry him."
All you have to do.
I looked back at the contract. The name at the top burned into my eyes.
Alexander Blackwood.
A billionaire. Powerful. Untouchable. A man I had only seen in news articles and cold business interviews. They said he had built an empire from nothing. They also said he had no mercy.
And now, he was buying a wife.
My hand shook as I signed my name.
The moment the pen left the paper, the door opened.
He walked in without knocking.
Tall. Sharp-featured. Dressed in black like the room belonged to him. His presence sucked the air out of the space, and suddenly I understood why my family looked so small around him.
Alexander Blackwood didn't look at anyone else.
His eyes settled on me.
Not with curiosity.
Not with interest.
With calculation.
"So," he said calmly, his voice low and emotionless, "this is her."
I stood up without realizing it. My heart hammered painfully against my ribs. He was more intimidating up close—cold grey eyes, a face carved from restraint and control.
"Yes," my uncle said quickly, standing. "She's signed the contract."
Alexander held out his hand. My uncle rushed forward and placed the papers into it like an offering.
He skimmed the document once, then looked back at me.
"Did you read it?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Good," he said. "It's easier that way."
The words stung, but his face didn't change. No cruelty. No kindness. Just indifference.
He turned to my family. "The debts will be cleared by morning. From this moment on, she belongs to me."
Belongs.
I flinched.
"Pack your things," he said to me, already turning toward the door. "You're leaving tonight."
Tonight.
"I—" My voice caught. "Can I at least—"
"No," he interrupted, finally glancing back. "You've had enough time with this family."
The door closed behind him.
No goodbye followed me. No one stopped me as I walked to my room, my legs numb, my chest aching like something had been torn out of me.
I packed quietly. A few clothes. My phone. Nothing else mattered.
When I stepped outside, his car was waiting.
The driver opened the door.
As I slid into the back seat, Alexander spoke without looking at me.
"Let's be clear," he said coldly. "This marriage is not about love. It's not about happiness."
The car started moving.
"It's about revenge."
My breath hitched.
I turned to him, my heart pounding. "Revenge on who?"
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips for the first time.
"Your family."