Sitting in the rear of the sleek black car as it slid around the city streets, the tall skyscrapers created long, hanging shadows over me. My hands tightened in my lap such that my knuckles became white. Once a hive of activity, the city I loved suddenly seemed sinister, apathetic to the tempest whirl inside me.
Two days had gone since my parents dropped the bombshell, two days of restless nights and racing ideas. Driven to meet Damon Blackwood, the guy I was being sold to, I was also carrying my future as well as the wealth of my family in hand.
Lily's voice cracked across my phone, "Ellie, you're going to be okay." She had phoned just before I left, her voice full of shame she could not suppress. " apologies, Ellie. I ought to have cut them off.
I closed my eyes and tapped the phone to my ear. Lily, you are not at blame. It never amounted to only you. My voice waned. I simply... It seems unbelievable that this is happening.
Desperate linking her words, she said, "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No," I said, attempting to project bravery more than I felt. "I have to confront this alone."
The automobile stopped, sending me back to reality jolted. A black suit stoic man, the driver got out and let me pass by. I inhaled deeply and came into Blackwood Enterprises' golden lobby, marble flooring shining under strong light, and chandeliers glittering like stars. The place screamed cold calculation, power, and riches.
"Ms. Rivera," said a voice calling my attention to a sharply dressed woman standing at the elevator door. Her cold and calculated gaze matched her custom suit exactly. Mr. Blackwood is here for you.
I bit hard, the metallic taste of anxiety flooding my tongue. Carrying me to the elevator, my feet moved before I could think, the woman's glare blazing into my behind. There was silence on the ride; every floor ding sounded like a countdown.
The doors opened to see a large office with floor to ceiling windows gazing out over the metropolitan skyline. Hands clasped behind his back, the man facing them seemed formidable even from a distance. Damon Blackwood turned gradually, and my breath seized in my throat.
Not old enough to be my father, he was younger than I expected—perhaps in his late thirties—but far enough separated to make the difference seem great. His eyes, the hue of storm clouds, locked with an intensity that made me shudder.
"Elena Rivera," he continued, his voice rich and smooth—that which begged attention. We finally got together.
I swallowed and stepped forward shakingly. "Mrs. Blackwood."
He corrected "Damon," a small smile flickering at his lips. "Let us not pretend this is a commercial transaction. Is it not far more intimate than that?
The room seemed smaller, the walls shutting in as I tried to find my voice. I blurted out, instantly regretting how weak I sounded, not choosing this.
Miss Rivera, choosing is a luxury. One I doubt either of us have right now. He came near me, his eyes never changing. Your parents volunteered to help you pay off a debt. At first, I objected.
"I know," I responded, raising a rebellious Chinagraph. Why am I here now?
He stopped inches from me, his weight overpowering. "Because I choose to view your photo. His gentle finger brushing of my jaw shocked me. And I was interested.
A flush rose up my neck, and I broke the touch by stepping back. Not some prize to be won here.
His smile vanished, and something incomprehensible replaced it. No, you aren't. But because you are here right now, we will maximize it.
"I won't just roll over and let you control me," I replied, my voice building with every syllable.
Good, he said, his eyes narrowing. "I have no need for someone weak at my side. Should you be my wife, you will have to prove you are more than the desperation of your parents.
Between us hung the word "wife," a sour reminder of the reason I was truly here. I met his eyes and stated, "This isn't a marriage. "That is a contract."
He leaned in, the smell of cedar and something darker around me. "It is whatever we create, Elena. Remember, I do not treat treachery lightly.
The office doors opened before I could answer, and a man I didn't know staggered in eyes wide with dread. "Mr. Blackwood, we have issues."
Damon's face became icy, the change so abrupt I froze. "Out now. now."
The man's eyes turned to me then back to Damon. "It relates to the Riverson agreement. It is breaking down.
Damon's jaws closed. He looked at me, his eyes a mixture of calculating and irritation. "Elena, our talk is still under progress. Keep here.
He went out, the door slamming behind him. My pulse thumping as a thousand questions tore through my head, I stood there. What have I lately become involved in? And why did I feel like I was being left at the brink of a storm when I saw Damon go?
Walking to the window, I stared down at the city below while my pulse filled my ears. The door creaked behind me, and I spun rapidly looking for Damon.
But that was not him. Eyes black and glinting with something sinister, it was a stranger.
"Miss Rivera," he began, voice calm and low. "We should really discuss who Damon Blackwood actually is."
The room tipped, and I felt the floor slink under me.
...the weight of money and authority squeezing down on me like a vise. The lobby hummed with controlled anarchy—assistants running back and forth, heels clicking off the tall ceilings, and the low buzz of significant dialog. But as soon as I entered, the world appeared to stop and every eye turned slightly toward me. I felt like an alien invading a domain I belonged nowhere.
"Miss Rivera? " Before me stood a tall woman in a well fitting suit, her keen eye softened by a courteous smile. Mr. Blackwood is looking for you. Kindly join me.
I nodded, my throat dry as paper and swallowed. I believed she might hear my heart hammer so fiercely. Every stride echoed as I trailed her down a long corridor dotted with images of strong-looking men—probably Damon's forefathers, each face sculpted with will and mercilessness.
" right this way." She unlocked a large wooden door, and I was staring into an office more like a fortification than a workplace. The room was large, and floor to ceiling windows provided a panoramic perspective of the city below. And there he was, back turned to me, his profile crisp and commanding against the skyline.
I mumbled "Damon Blackwood," attempting to collect the bits of bravery still inside me.
He turned slowly, dark as midnight latching onto me. With a chiseled jaw and silver-streaked hair that just accented his strong appearance, he was taller than I had thought. If he were old enough to be my father, it was more in experience than in age; he was fit, his custom suit hugging muscles that suggested discipline and control.
"Elena Rivera," he remarked, his voice rich and silky, calling attention. He evaluated me and fluttered through his eyes something unreadable. Sit.
It did not constitute a request.
I stopped for a while then walked to the chair opposite from his huge mahogany desk. Sitting, I could feel the cold thrill of expectation stranding my spine.
"I suppose your parents have explained your presence here?" Damon carried on, reclining in his chair and hands steepled as though he were thinking of a chessboard.
I said, pushing the words past the lump in my throat. "You're ready to pay off the debt if I marry you?"
His eyes glittered with laughter, then rapidly became dark. " correct. It is not a romantic arrangement; it is rather calculated. You realize that?
I nodded too shocked to act otherwise. Why, me? Why would you accept this... trade?
Damon looked at me and his expression became incomprehensible. His eyelids closed. "The response to it is not as straightforward as you would want it to be. Let me say I have motives.
His mysterious reply made me shudder down my back. I opened my mouth to probe him more, but he interrupted, his voice suddenly fierce.
Elena, you have options. I will not press you toward this. You can go; your family will cope with the fallout on their own. Alternatively you might stay to observe.
I had an angry hot blush. "See what transpires." Now you're claiming it's my choice, but my parents dumped me into this as if I were some kind of collateral.
His eyes softened, just momentarily, and I saw something nearly human under the icy surface. Sure. Since I will not accept what is reluctantly provided. So make a decision right now.
I hesitated; my pulse was racing. The stillness in the room increased, and every second seemed to last an eternity. Should I remain, what would it mean? How would that cost me? I considered Lily's guilty voice, my father's begging eyes, and my mother's nervous countenance. My whole existence, poised on the brink of this choice, lay out before me.
I said, "I'll stay," the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Damon's lips turned into a smile not quite visible to his eyes. "Excellent." We will report the participation tomorrow.
The space appeared to darken all around me, and then the gleaming office felt oppressive. Damon got up before I could reply to indicate our discussion was done. He circled the desk stopping only inches from me. His hand extended fingers over a loose strand of hair from my face.
"Elena, you'll find I don't break pledges. And just now neither can you.
His eyes locked into mine, seeking something I could not identify, a cold ran through me. Then he turned away, leaving me in a room that felt suddenly significantly colder than it had before.
The assistant's voice broke the stillness, "Miss Rivera," and I jumped. "this way, please."
Rising with legs shaking, I trailed her back down the long, silent hall, Damon's last words ringing in my ears: And now, neither can you.
I understood with a sickening sensation there was no turning back as the heavy door closed behind me. This was a contract with a man I knew absolutely little about, not only a marriage of convenience. He followed his own rules. And somewhere deep inside, the anxiety descended upon me realizing the expense of this choice exceeded my wildest expectations.