Amelia sat in the luxurious hotel room, her eyes focused on the contract in front of her. The polished desk beneath her hands seemed cold, distant, much like the man who had placed it there. Lucas Blackwood. The billionaire who had become both her husband and the source of all her troubles. She had spent the past few weeks trying to adjust to her new life, but nothing felt right. It was all a game to him, a deal, and she was nothing more than a pawn.
She glanced up as the door opened, and there he was tall, confident, and unbothered by the storm brewing inside her. Lucas didn't have to try hard to look commanding. Everything about him screamed control. He walked across the room, his presence overwhelming, yet there was something darker in his eyes today.
"Are you ready to sign?" he asked, his voice smooth and cold.
Amelia felt a lump form in her throat. The contract before her wasn't just an agreement to uphold their sham marriage. It was a trap, one that would bind her further into his world. But she had no choice. Not anymore.
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucas's eyes flickered, but he didn't answer. He just stood there, waiting for her to make the move. The pressure felt suffocating. She could feel her palms sweat as she stared at the contract. Every line on the paper was a reminder of how little control she had over her life now. This wasn't just about the money or her father's hospital bills anymore. It was about being trapped, caught in a web of manipulation that she couldn't escape from.
"I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to," Lucas said, sensing her hesitation. "I'm offering you a way out of your problems, Amelia. A way to get your father the care he needs and save the gallery. All you have to do is play along."
"Play along?" Amelia's voice cracked as she looked up at him. "You want me to live this lie, pretending to be your wife, to save everything? You think that's what I want?"
Lucas didn't flinch. His expression remained unreadable, but there was a hint of something in his eyes something almost like sympathy, though it was quickly replaced by coldness. "It's not about what you want," he said, stepping closer. "It's about what needs to happen. And right now, this is the only way to fix things. You and I both know that."
Amelia swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press down on her chest. She wanted to argue, to scream at him for putting her in this impossible position, but the truth was, she had nowhere else to turn. There was no one who could help her the way he could, and she hated him for it.
"I don't want this life," she said, her voice shaking. "I don't want to be your wife, your puppet. But I don't have a choice, do I?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her for a moment, his gaze intense and calculating. "No," he said finally, his voice softer than before. "You don't."
A silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Amelia felt the tears well up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not now, not when she was already so deep in this mess.
"I want out of this," she whispered, almost to herself. "I want my life back."
Lucas didn't respond to her words. He simply moved closer, until he was standing right next to her. His presence was overwhelming, and for a brief moment, Amelia felt as though she was drowning in it. But then, he spoke again, his voice low and firm.
"You're in this whether you like it or not. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll realize that we can both benefit from this arrangement."
Amelia closed her eyes, trying to block out the rising anger inside her. She hated this. Hated him. But more than that, she hated how powerless she felt, how stuck she was in a situation she couldn't control.
The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, she sighed, her hand trembling as she reached for the pen beside the contract. It felt like she was signing away everything her dignity, her freedom, her future. But what else could she do? Walk away and lose everything? Lose her father? The gallery? The little bit of hope she had left?
No, she couldn't do that. She had to sign, even if it meant sacrificing herself in the process.
"Fine," she said, her voice barely audible. "I'll sign it."
Lucas didn't seem surprised. He simply nodded and took a step back, allowing her the space to do what needed to be done. Amelia picked up the pen, her hand still shaking as she signed her name at the bottom of the page. She didn't look up as she did it. She couldn't. If she did, she might see the satisfaction in his eyes, and she wasn't ready for that.
When she finished, Lucas took the contract from her with a quick, efficient motion. He didn't say anything right away. For a moment, Amelia wondered if he was going to gloat, to remind her how powerless she was. But instead, he just folded the contract and slipped it into his briefcase.
"Good," he said finally, his tone hard again. "Now, we can begin."
Begin? Amelia felt like she was sinking even further into this mess, a mess that she couldn't untangle. She had made a deal with the devil, and she wasn't sure if there was any way out.
Just as she turned to leave, her phone buzzed with an anonymous message. The words were simple, but they sent a chill down her spine: "You think you're in control, but you're not. It's already too late."