Chapter 4 A Signed Deal

~ Lila ~

I hardly got any sleep.

Not that I really thought I would-not after the crazy night I just had. I was still stuck in Damon Blackwood's world, in his ridiculously fancy penthouse, surrounded by the smell of leather and the faint buzz of the city below.

Somewhere out there, someone wanted me gone. And I had no clue who it was.

I spent the night pacing around the huge guest bedroom, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, trying to wrap my head around how my life had flipped upside down so quickly.

By morning, I had come to just one conclusion.

I had to make it out alive.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Damon stepping in-dressed to the nines in a dark suit, crisp shirt, and that ever-mysterious expression on his face.

"It's time," he said, plain and simple.

I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race. "For what?"

His gaze darted to my bare feet and the rumpled clothes I had on from the night before. "Get dressed. Everything you need is in the closet."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving no room for me to argue.

I watched him go for a moment, then stepped into the walk-in closet that likely cost more than my entire paycheck. Every outfit was designer, and every shoe gleamed like it had just come off the shelf.

Damon Blackwood didn't just exist in wealth; he thrived in power.

And now, I was about to step into that world.

---

Thirty Minutes Later – Blackwood Tower

The car ride to Blackwood Tower was filled with silence. I sat beside Damon in the sleek black Maybach, the weight of what I was about to do pressing down on me like a heavy weight.

He hadn't shared much with me-just that we had a "meeting" to go to.

I really should have pressed for more details. I should have pushed back harder.

But there was something about the way Damon Blackwood moved through life-with such unwavering confidence-that made it hard to keep pace.

When the car rolled into a private underground garage, I braced myself for security.

What I didn't expect was a whole team of men in suits waiting for us.

Damon was the first to step out. As soon as I followed, a sharp-featured man in his fifties approached us. He barely acknowledged me before turning his attention to Damon.

"It's ready."

Damon nodded and then motioned for me to follow him.

I hesitated. "What's ready?"

He didn't respond.

Instead, he led me into a private conference room on the top floor of Blackwood Tower-and there, waiting on the glass table in front of us-

A marriage contract.

My stomach twisted at the sight. "Are you serious?"

Damon unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat at the head of the table, his expression cool and collected. "You had to know this was coming."

I crossed my arms, feeling a mix of disbelief and frustration. "I thought we were just pretending to be married."

"We are." He tapped a finger against the thick stack of papers. "But we're doing it the legal way."

I swallowed hard. "Why?"

"Because that's the only way it works."

I stared at him, then at the stark black ink on the white paper.

This wasn't just a casual agreement. It was a binding contract.

I pulled out a chair and sat down, my heart racing. "What's in it?"

Damon leaned back, looking completely relaxed. "Let's keep it simple."

I couldn't help but scoff. "You don't strike me as the 'simple terms' type."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You're starting to catch on."

I let out a sharp breath. "Alright then. Just lay it out for me."

He intertwined his fingers. "You'll be my wife. For one year. No questions asked, no interruptions, and definitely no wild antics."

My heart raced. "And what happens after that?"

"You'll get a divorce settlement and a fresh start."

Just one year.

That's all I had to get through.

I picked up the pen, my fingers shaking a bit. Just as I was about to sign, Damon's voice sliced through the quiet-

"Once you sign, Lila, there's no turning back."

I was aware of that. I had felt it the moment I agreed.

But hearing him say it made it all the more real.

I pressed the pen to the paper and wrote my name.

The ink was barely dry when Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and cold.

A ring.

My stomach twisted in knots. This was really happening now.

He took my hand, his grip steady yet controlled, and slid the enormous diamond onto my finger.

A symbol. A prison.

His grip tightened just a bit, and his voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper.

"Now," he said softly, "let's go meet the rest of our enemies."