, illuminating the mess she had barely managed to clean after yesterday's disaster. Coffee stains were still faintly visible

he closed her eyes, she saw him-his cold, precise stare, the quiet command in his voice, the subtl

coffee, wiping counters, and trying not to imagine him walking in again. But the thought alone made her palm

the eleva

art st

feel small in comparison. His presence alone seemed to pull the air from the room, and

d controlled, resonating in a way that

lurched. "Mr

ommand carried authority

eady herself. "

gnified as if the world had contracted to just the two of them. She could feel the warmth

his arm. "A contract. Six months. You will live with me. Follow my rules. In exchange, I

n her throat. "A... contract? Y

d nothing more. If you do, your family will be safe. If you refuse..." H

terous. And yet, her father's voice whispere

mmered. "I can't just..

is words made her pulse spike. "You will have privacy, your own suite,

ged her to refuse, but desperation tethered her to realit

uorescent lights, crisp and final. Signature lines beckoned. The pen in her hand felt heavier tha

hts screamed: This is insane. This is dangerous. Thi

si

er life shifted irrevocably. Damian watched her, studying every microexpression, every

he rules?" he ask

oice barely carri

a way that made her knees feel unsteady. "Welcome to m

rvived spilling coffee on him. How could she po

step she heard made her heart race. And yet, when he didn't appear again that mor

of the contract. Her tiny apartment felt impossibly small, yet f

se to her cheeks at the thought. She hated the awareness of her own body, the flu

mind: six months. Follow the rules. Li

ted to survive this. For her father. For herself. And somewhere deep inside, a smaller, less rational pa

om an unknown number appeared: "Pack

twice. She knew. Damian Blackwell was coming. Th

ething dangerously close to curiosity, maybe even desire. She hated that feeling, hated him, and yet c

And deep down, she felt a thrill she wasn't p