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Married To My Enemy: The Cold-hearted CEO

Married To My Enemy: The Cold-hearted CEO

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Ariana Taylor thought she'd buried the past-but when the man responsible for destroying her father's legacy offers her a contract marriage, she knows this is her only shot at revenge. Damon Black is rich, powerful, and completely heartless. The plan is simple: marry him, gain his trust, and tear down everything he's built. But nothing about Damon is simple. He's cold but magnetic, cruel yet protective. And the more time Ariana spends in his world, the harder it becomes to remember why she hates him. As sparks fly and secrets unravel, Ariana finds herself caught between two battles-one for justice, and one with her own heart. Because falling for her enemy? That was never supposed to be part of the deal. In a marriage built on lies, one truth might ruin them both: sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do... is fall in love.

Chapter 1 The Contract Bride

"Sign it, or walk away. Your choice."

Damon Black's voice was calm, flat, and annoyingly confident.

The room was silent, except for the ticking of the antique clock on the wall. Ariana Taylor sat across from him in a high-rise office with glass walls that offered a panoramic view of the city-cold, elegant, and as impersonal as the man sitting behind the desk.

Her fingers hovered over the sleek fountain pen that lay on top of the thick contract. One signature. That's all it would take to bind her life to his-for one year.

She should have been nervous. Maybe even afraid. But all she felt was the familiar burn of hatred clawing at her chest.

This was the man responsible for her father's downfall. The man who'd ruined her family's legacy with one ruthless business move. And now, she would become his wife.

At least, on paper.

"One year. No extensions," she said firmly. "No physical obligations outside of public appearances. No access to my private accounts, my body, or my past. Everything ends after twelve months."

Damon leaned back in his leather chair, the movement smooth, deliberate. "You've done your homework."

Ariana met his gaze without flinching. "I don't walk into cages blind."

He raised a brow, clearly amused. "Cage? I was under the impression this arrangement was mutually beneficial."

She smiled coolly. "You get a wife to soften your public image. I get enough money to secure my independence. That's business. Not marriage."

"Harsh words for a bride-to-be."

"Harsh world," she replied.

A flicker of interest crossed Damon's face, but it was gone in an instant. "Very well," he said, tapping the desk. "The terms are clear. Sign, and I'll have the marriage license filed within the hour."

She picked up the pen and pressed it to the paper, her hand steady. Ariana Taylor-a name she'd built from ashes. Not her birth name, but the one that had survived betrayal, poverty, and pain.

When she finished, Damon stood. "Congratulations," he said with dry finality. "You're now officially on my calendar."

"How romantic."

He ignored the sarcasm. "Our engagement will go public tomorrow. Wedding in three days. Press conference next week."

She nodded, already calculating her next move. "Where will I be living?"

"My penthouse. I have an extra room you can use-or you can pretend to be a proper wife and share mine."

"I'll pass."

His eyes lingered on her face for a moment too long. "Pity."

Ariana stood, brushing invisible wrinkles from her pencil skirt. She hated how effortlessly magnetic he was-even now, when she wanted nothing more than to bring him to his knees.

"I'll see you at the rehearsal dinner," Damon said as she turned to leave.

She paused at the door, her hand on the handle. "You think you control everything, don't you?"

His answer was immediate. "I know I do."

Ariana smiled without humor. "We'll see."

++++

Three days later, she stood in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in white.

The stylist fussed with the final pins in her veil while Ariana stared at her reflection. The dress was perfect. The makeup flawless. But beneath the surface, a war raged.

This wasn't her dream wedding. It wasn't even real. But the revenge-that was real. Tangible. Close.

She thought of her father's voice. Of the nights he sat at the edge of her childhood bed, promising her that one day, she'd run the company. That they'd build an empire together.

That future had burned to the ground.

She blinked back the memory and squared her shoulders.

No more mourning. No more running. Today, she stepped into the lion's den.

And this time, she was the one carrying the knife.

++++

The wedding was everything the tabloids would worship: lavish, exclusive, and staged to perfection.

Damon stood at the altar like a man waiting to sign another deal. He didn't smile when she walked down the aisle. Didn't flinch when her hand slid into his.

But his fingers curled ever so slightly around hers-firm, cold.

"You look stunning," he said softly, his voice devoid of warmth.

"I wish I could say the same," she replied without skipping a beat.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

The ceremony passed in a blur of vows neither of them meant. As the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Damon turned and pressed a possessive kiss to her cheek.

To the cameras, it was passionate.

To Ariana, it was branding.

++++

That night, back in the penthouse, Ariana stood at the balcony, her gown replaced by silk sleepwear Damon had provided. She didn't wear it for comfort-but to remind herself what she was now: part of his world, however temporary.

"You're quiet," Damon said, entering the room with a drink in hand.

"I'm thinking."

"Dangerous habit."

She turned slowly. "What happens tomorrow?"

"We host a brunch. Appear happy. Smile for pictures."

"And after that?"

"You stay out of my way. I'll stay out of yours."

That suited her just fine. "Goodnight, Damon."

She turned toward the guest room, but his voice stopped her.

"You didn't ask why I agreed to this."

She glanced over her shoulder. "I don't care."

"You should. People like me don't marry without a reason."

"Then maybe I'm not just a woman," she said coolly. "Maybe I'm a weapon."

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "You're many things, Ariana. But subtle isn't one of them."

She shut the door to her room with a click and leaned against it.

He didn't know.

Not yet.

But soon, Damon Black would learn that marrying her was the biggest mistake of his life.

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