Chapter 1
THE OFFER.
The first time Damien Blackwood asked me to marry him, I almost laughed in his face.
Not because it was funny, but because it was insane.
I sat across from him in the small living room of my childhood home, staring at the man I had spent the last five years blaming for everything that had gone wrong in my life.
My father’s ruined company.
Our debts.
My mother’s illness.
Her death.
And now, the house I had grown up in was about to be taken from me.
Damien looked completely unaffected by any of it.
He was dressed in a black suit that probably cost more than everything in my room combined. His dark hair was neatly styled, his expression unreadable, and his expensive watch caught the light every time he moved his hand.
He looked exactly like what everyone said.
Cold.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
A Blackwood.
“I think you misunderstood me,” I said.
“I didn’t”.
“You just asked me to marry you”.
“Yes”.
I stared at him. He stared back.
Was this man actually serious?
I picked up the glass of water sitting beside me and took a sip, mostly because I needed something to do with my hands.
“Why?”
“Because I need a wife”.
I nearly choked.
“Then go find one”.
His eyebrow lifted slightly. “I have”.
My eyes narrowed. “You’re unbelievable”.
“I’ve been called worse”.
“I don’t doubt it”.
For the first time, something that almost looked like amusement crossed his face.
It disappeared so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it.
He reached into the black folder on the table and pulled out a few sheets of paper.
“A marriage contract”.
I didn’t touch it. “How romantic”.
“One year”.
I looked at him again.
“What?”
“You’ll be my wife for one year. At the end of the year, we’ll get divorced”.
I let out a short laugh.
“And what exactly do I get for selling you a year of my life?”
“Your debts disappear”.
My smile vanished. He continued.
“The mortgage on this house will be paid. Your mother’s outstanding medical bills will be settled. Your father’s remaining creditors will receive their money”.
I felt a sharp pain in my stomach . I hated that he knew so much.
“How do you know about my mother’s bills?”
“I know about everything about you”.
The way he said it made my skin prickle. I leaned back.
“That’s creepy”.
“Maybe”.
“You’ve been watching me?”
“No”.
“Then how do you know all this?”
He didn’t answer.
That bothered me more than it should have.
I looked down at the contract.
There was my name.
Arielle Vale.
And beneath it, a blank space waiting for my signature.
“Why me?” I asked.
Damien was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “Because you’re suitable”.
I scoffed.
“Suitable?”
“You don’t want my money”.
“You clearly don’t know me”.
“I know enough”.
I looked up sharply.
There was something in his eyes. Something I couldn’t understand. He wasn’t looking at me like a man looking at a woman he wanted to marry. He was looking at me like he was trying to solve a problem.
Or settle a score. I don’t really know.
“What do you really want?” I asked.
His expression hardened.
“That isn’t part of the agreement”.
“So there is something”.
“I didn’t say that”.
“You didn’t have to”.
I pushed the contract back toward him.
“I’m not marrying you”.
He didn’t reach for it. Like I didn’t have any options.
Instead, he calmly said, “The bank comes tomorrow”.
My heart sank.
I hated him for knowing exactly where to strike.
“This house isn’t yours to take”.
“No. It’s the bank’s”.
“You know what I mean”
“I do”.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Your father used to say the same thing”.
My entire body went still.
“Don’t talk about my father”.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t get to”.
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
“You’re still protecting a man who left you with nothing”.
My jaw tightened.
“You don’t know why he left”.
“Neither do you”.
The words hit harder than they should have.
Because he was right.
That was the part I hated most.
My father had disappeared five years ago without saying goodbye.
No explanation. No letter.
Nothing.
Everyone had assumed he had ran away because he was guilty.
I had refused to believe it.
Until now.
Damien stood and straightened his jacket.
“Think about it”.
“I already have”.
“And?”
“No”.
He nodded as if he had expected that answer.
Then he turned towards the door.
My eyes fell on the contract again.
The house.
My mother’s bills.
My father’s debts.
Everything I had spent years trying to hold together was sitting inside those few pages.
“Wait”.
Damien stopped.
I hated myself for saying it. But was i supposed to do?. If you had been me, you would probably have done same. Besides he’s handsome so…
“One year?”
“One year”.
“No sleeping together?”
His expression changed slightly.
“That isn’t in the contract”.
“It should be”.
Wait… was he planning to… oh my Gosh, this man.
“Fine”. He replied way too fast.
He didn’t even give it a second thought, so shameless.
He walked back to the table and picked up the pen.
“Separate bedrooms”.
I nodded.
“No interference in each other’s personal lives”.
“Agreed”.
“No pretending this is a real marriage”.
He gazed at me.
“Agreed”.
I swallowed.
“And after one year, we walk away.”
“Yes”.
Yes of course, we should. What was I expecting? So silly of me.
I looked at the contract for a long time.
Then I picked up the pen.
I told myself I was doing this for my mother. For the house. For the life my family had lost.
Not for him. Never for him.
I signed.
Damien took the contract from my hand.
He looked at my signature for several seconds before placing the papers back inside his folder.
“Good”
I frowned.
“That’s it?”
He stood.
“The wedding is tomorrow”
I stared at him.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes”.
“You’ve planned the wedding already?”
“I plan for everything”.
“Apparently”.
He walked toward the door.
Just before he left, I heard him say my name.
“Arielle….”
I looked up.
He rested his hand on the door knob.
For a second, he looked almost… tired.
Then it disappeared.
“Don’t trust anyone in my family”.
I frowned.
“What?”
But he had already opened the door.
“Why?”
He stopped.
He didn’t turn around.
“Because not everyone is happy that you’re becoming a Blackwood”.
Then he walked out.
I remained frozen in my chair.
My eyes dropped to the contract sitting on the table.
One year.
That was all.
One year married to Damien Blackwood.
I thought I was signing a contract that would save my family.
I didn’t know I had just signed myself into the middle of a war that had started long before I was born.
