The heavy oak door groaned open. A crack of thunder boomed through the silent study. I froze mid-pace. Thankfully, the contract rustled in my hand and pulled my gaze as I looked toward the man coming into the room.
Elias Blackwood.
A warning of a name, one cloaked in legacy, was the only explanation standing next to him would provide. He filled the space with an ease that was like a storm contained within the walls of this room. Power emanated from him, relentless, inescapable. His tailored black suit framed broad shoulders and a lean, commanding form. His face-all sharp angles and unyielding lines-was as coldly beautiful as any marble sculpture. But his eyes-most pale gray, piercing, unblinking, as if they'd stripped away every layer I'd ever built around me.
I clutched the contract hard, clenching and unclenching, a rhythmic gesture while settling my weight further upon one leg as my spine snapped up. I wouldn't back down. Not after the passage of all this time.
"Miss Hayes," he stated, smooth but hazardous within that timber, almost silky, that underbelly a promise of domination, rather than just voice.
Mr. Blackwood, I said, forcing my voice not to shake.
His lips arced a little, not quite a smile but something sharper. "Braver than I expected," he said.
I straightened, unsure if that was a compliment or a warning.
"I'm here because I made a promise to my family," I said, lifting my chin. "Let's not confuse that with bravery."
His gaze skittered towards the contract in my hands. His eyes never leaving it, he strode-in glacial fashion-toward the enormous desk commanding the center of the room and motioned to the chair opposite him.
"Sit," he said.
I hesitated an instant, then sat forward on the chair's cushion. The plush softness of me did little to relax me.
Elias leaned back in his chair, filling the space with him even while seated. He steepled his fingers; his expression turned clinical. "You've read the terms?"
I nodded. "Every word."
"And you still signed it?" A flicker of amusement danced in his tone, though his face didn't change.
"You left me little choice," I said, my fingers tightening around the paper.
"Choice," he said softly, "is often an illusion."
His words lay against my chest like the cold weight of iron, an iron reminder of the stakes-my family's survival was bound up in this union, with my father's business crumbling and my mother's soaring medical bills. Elias Blackwood's proposal had been tossed to me like a life preserver, but one lined with chains I didn't really know were there until now.
"Why me?" I burst out before I could bite the words back.
He tilted his head; gray eyes slanted. "Why not you?
"That's not an answer," I snapped.
Something moved across his face-appreciation, maybe. "You were the best choice."
"'Suitable,'" I echoed, the word dripping with sarcasm. "How romantic."
Elias leaned back, his face cool and detached. "I never offered romance. This is business.
The bluntness stung, even though I knew it from the beginning. I masked the hurt over with defiance. "Fine," I said. "Let's get this over with."
He stood from his chair, entering the room very deliberately. The air was weighted-just a little heavy-so as close as he'd already pulled in, my skin prickled when he rounded the desk. He leaned into me closely enough that his heated breath warmed my skin.
" This is not a marriage, Audrey, he whispered low and dangerously. "It's a contract that ties us in ways you've yet to understand. " Is this something you're ready to sign your freedom away to?
My heart pounds, but I hold his gaze. "I already did."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he straightened up. Good.
He extended his hand, and I hesitated before handing over the contract. Our fingers brushed briefly-a strange jolt of warmth shooting up my arm. I pulled back quickly, unsure if I'd imagined it.
Elias walked to the far end of the room, pouring himself a drink from a decanter. "You understand the public nature of this arrangement," he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
"Yes," I said. "Appearances, events—a performance."
"Exactly. To the world, we are the perfect couple. Behind closed doors, we are business partners."
"And if I break the terms?" I asked, my voice even though my tummy had managed to contort itself into a nice, tight knot.
His eyes flashed darkly as he pivoted to me. "You won't."
His words hung in the air like a promise, a threat, long after he had stopped speaking.
It wasn't until I stepped into my new bedroom and was alone for real that finally the truth started to dawn on me-this suite was an ornate, gilded cage, and one which did little to disguise the chains binding me.
I collapsed onto the bed, looking down at the patterned carpet beneath my feet. Being married to a man about whom I knew so little and bound by such a contract-it just all seemed unreal.
A knock on the door pulled me from my reverie.
"Come in," I said, my voice weak.
A smartly uniformed woman entered with a tray of tea and biscuits.
"Good evening, Mrs. Blackwood," she responded civilly and coolly.
I flinched at the title. "Thanks," I stuttered, taking the tea.
With no further words, she left me once more alone.
Later in the night, my exhaustion overtook me, but sleep wouldn't follow. Images of Elias hung in my mind-cryptic warnings, the turmoil that brewed in his eyes. Just as I might drift off to sleep, a low guttural growl pierced the air.
My breath caught as I sat up. The sound came again, closer this time. I crept toward the door, every instinct screaming at me to stay put.
By the time I got into the hall, the growls were numerous, animal-like, and blood-curdling.
I reached for the doorknob, but the noise ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
My heart raced, I retreated backward, got back into bed, and pulled the covers over my head.
Whatever I'd heard, I wasn't ready to face it. Not tonight.
But one thing was for sure: life with Elias Blackwood would be a great deal more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.