Anastasia sat stiffly in the back of the luxury black sedan, her hands curled into fists on her lap.
The car moved smoothly through the city, the glow of neon lights reflecting against the tinted windows. Outside, the world carried on as if her life wasn't about to change forever.
She swallowed.
Why did he want to see her?
Leonidas Kosta had barely looked at her during the contract negotiations. His indifference was obvious—this was a business transaction, nothing more.
And yet, he had summoned her.
She clenched her fingers tighter.
The car pulled up to The Orion, one of the most exclusive penthouses in the city—a building he owned.
Her stomach twisted as the driver stepped out and opened the door.
"Miss Vasquez," he said in a clipped tone.
She hesitated for only a second before stepping into the cold night air. A doorman escorted her inside, leading her through the high-security entrance and up to the private elevator.
Each second that passed made her pulse hammer harder.
What does he want?
When the elevator doors opened, she stepped into a penthouse wrapped in glass walls, the entire city shimmering beneath them.
The space was modern and elegant, but empty—devoid of warmth.
And standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back turned to her, was Leonidas Kosta.
The Man Who Held Her Fate
She had seen him before in news articles, business magazines, and press conferences.
But nothing had prepared her for his presence in person.
Even standing still, he commanded the space—tall, powerful, exuding an aura of danger and control.
His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, veined forearms. His black slacks hung perfectly on his lean, muscular frame.
But it was his eyes that trapped her when he finally turned.
Cold. Dark. Sharp as obsidian.
"You came." His voice was low, smooth—but there was no warmth in it.
She forced herself to nod. "You asked for me."
A stretch of silence. Then, he moved.
Slow, calculated steps, closing the distance between them with terrifying ease.
She had the urge to step back, but she forced her feet to stay rooted.
Don't show weakness.
He stopped a breath away, his towering frame making her feel small, breakable.
For a long moment, he simply looked at her.
Like a predator studying its prey.
His Unspoken Words
"You weren't meant to be my wife."
The words sliced through the air like a blade.
Her nails dug into her palms. "I know."
Another heavy silence. Then, he tilted his head slightly, something unreadable flashing in his gaze.
"Are you afraid of me?"
Anastasia swallowed. "Should I be?"
One dark brow lifted slightly, as if intrigued by her response.
"Most people are."
She knew it was true. Leonidas Kosta was a legend in the business world—feared, ruthless, a man who crushed competitors without hesitation.
But she had no choice in this marriage.
So she met his gaze and lied. "No."
His lips twitched slightly, but not in a smile. More like amusement.
He took a step closer.
Her breath hitched.
"Good," he murmured. "Then listen carefully, because I don't like repeating myself."
The Deal with the Devil
"There will be rules."
His voice was low, firm, unyielding.
Rules.
Of course. A contract marriage always had conditions.
"You will appear by my side when required," he continued. "You will uphold the image of a perfect wife in public. You will not interfere in my business."
Anastasia forced herself to nod. "Understood."
His dark eyes searched hers for a moment before he added, "And one more thing."
She braced herself.
"You are not to fall in love with me."
Her heart stumbled.
What?
Before she could respond, he leaned in slightly, his scent—something clean, dark, and expensive—surrounding her.
"This is a business deal, Anastasia," he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. "Don't expect anything more."
Something in her chest tightened, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.
"I won't," she whispered.
A lie.
Because even now, standing so close to him, she already knew—staying unaffected by Leonidas Kosta would be impossible.