Chapter 3 Emilia pov

"You may own this contract, Damian, but you don't own me."

I turned to face the man in golden chains who had just reassured me that I would be saved Before I could change my mind.

My heart is thumping. Damian Blackwood studied me with piercing gray eyes, as he leaned back in his chair, as if I were a puzzle he was trying to unravel.

"Is that correct?"

I wasn't duped by his ostentatiously smooth voice. Damian was not a man who liked being pushed.

I clamped my fingers around the leather chair's arms and sat rigidly. "There are conditions if I do this. My circumstances."

The shadow of a smile, not a real one, twisted his lips. He found it fascinating. "Continue."

Despite the dryness in my throat, I swallowed. "First-don't touch."

A pause. Damian raised an eyebrow then. "Avoid touching?"

I raised my chin. "This marriage is under contract. An exchange of commerce. I don't touch you, and you don't touch me."

His face was still unreadable. "That could be an issue."

"Why?"

"I'll require your presence at events, and the public will anticipate a certain level of intimacy."

There was something predatory in his gaze, but he talked calmly. "Obviously you are not so naive as to think that we can act to be couples with no actually making sexual interaction?"

I stiffened. He was correct. The entire globe would be observing. However, I wouldn't offer him more than was required.

I bit out, "All right. Public adoration only when necessary." I also want my personal space.

Damian's fingers were tangled beneath his chin as he watched me for a long time. "What else?"

I inhaled. "I keep to my work."

His face grew a little somber. "Superfluous. You'll get a sizable allowance, access to my accounts-"

"Your money is not mine." I tightened my jaw. "I have to go to work. Something that is mine is what I need."

His eyes could not be read. Then at last he bowed his head. " You are free to work, As long as it doesn't affect my expectations of you." I breathed a sigh of comfort.

"Anything else?" he asked in a lighthearted manner.

I paused, then looked him in the eye. "You let me go once this is over. No games. No gaps."

There was a flash in his eyes. "Emilia, I don't trap people."

I wasn't entirely certain. Before he reached for the contract, his eyes remained fixed on mine for yet another long, weighted moment. He wrote my conditions into the agreement by carefully adjusting the wording.

Then he put a sleek black pen on top of the papers and moved them toward me. "Sign."

I gazed at the paper. I picked up the pen with a little trembling in my palms. The eviction notice flashed behind my eyelids as I remembered my father coughing.

This was a matter of survival.

A year, Only a year.

I signed my name after pressing the pen to the paper.

As I did it, Damian's gaze never left me.

I exhaled slowly after I was done. It was finished.

My life had just been signed away.

Later that evening, I sat in my small bedroom and gazed at the engagement ring that Damian had previously given me.

A gorgeous, chilly diamond that weighed heavily on my palm. An emblem of deception. I hardly knew the man I was engaged to.

This guy didn't trust me so well.

Someone knocked on my door, startling me. With my heart exploding in my throat, I hastily opened it.

"Dad?"

He paused in the doorway, his tired eyes searching my face. "You haven't said anything all evening."

I made an effort to grin. "Just pondering." Leaning against the doorframe, he entered carefully. "Emilia, what's going on?"

I paused. "I took a job."

He knitted his brows. "A job?"

"Yes," I lied with ease. "It's a good wage. Sufficient to cover everything".

His eyes grew softer, yet they were still worried. "I don't want you to act carelessly."

It's too late.

The lump in my throat was swallowed. "Believe me, Dad. Everything will work out OK."

After giving me a lengthy look, he nodded.

I concealed the ring behind my back and attempted another smile.

Concealing the reality.

Concealing my agreement with the devil.

After Two Days, the Wedding Was approaching, Silken dresses, glittering veils, and the aroma of pricey perfume filled the bridal boutique.

I stood in front of the mirror, a stranger in white. The dress fit me perfectly, and the lace flowed down my arms like delicate vines. Whispering, "Awesome," the stylist said.

"Mr. Blackwood's taste is flawless."

I tensed up. Had Damian selected this?

I wasn't shocked. He was a man in charge of everything, including the appearance of his contract wife.

My stomach turned at the thought.

My fingers curled into the fabric as I turned my back on the mirror. It wasn't real. It wasn't love. This was a matter of survival.

Nevertheless, Damian's presence dominated the room as the shop doors opened and he entered.

When I saw his picture in the mirror, he was tall, strong, and quite gorgeous in a dark suit. He stared at me with unbreakable eyes. The personnel were told to "leave us."

In an instant, they dispersed.

As he approached, he descended quietly on the room.

"You look." His eyes swept over me and his voice faded.

"Like a lady trapped," I concluded sourly.

His mouth quirked. "That depends on your point of view."

I folded my arms. "What brings you here?"

His hands slipped into his pockets. "I was hoping to see my Fiance."

I clarified, "Your contract fiancée."

His eyes grew gloomy. "Details."

He stretched out, his fingertips almost brushing my wrist, but I looked away.

I felt a spark fly through me. I recoiled. "You're already violating the no-touching rule?"

Damian grinned. "I didn't sign that part of the deal." I gazed at him in wonder. "Pardon me?"

"I accepted your terms, Emilia. However, I never claimed to follow them all." He had a pleasant, playful voice, yet there was something menacing in his eyes.

My heart was racing. "That is unfair."

"Life isn't either," he whispered.

The store doors swung open before I could protest.

A pale man in a dark suit hurried inside. He spoke softly into Damian's ear.

Damian's whole attitude shifted.

He clenched his jaw. He balled his hands into fists. For the first time since I had known him, his normally icy demeanor broke. Then, his face unreadable, he turned to face me.

"Plans changed," he answered firmly.

"This evening is the wedding." I felt sick to my stomach. "What?"

His gloomy eyes met mine. "We cannot afford to wait."

I was filled with panic. "Why? What is going on?"

Damian remained silent.

He reached for my hand instead. He didn't let go this time.

I realized as I looked into his storm-like eyes that I had just entered a much more frightening situation than I could have ever dreamed.