Married for Revenge, Bound by Love

This is not taking place. This isn't possible."

The big red letters of the crumpled eviction notice burned like a curse into my head as I stared at it with my shaking hands.

THE NOTICE IS OVER.

I was having trouble breathing because of the steel cage-like weight of reality pressing down on my chest. The rent is past due.

We no longer own the house, our home. I gave a harsh laugh, hollow and piercing. How did this occur?

I turned to face my father as his feeble, unsure voice pierced the stifling silence, "Emilia?"

He stood against the wooden frame of his bedroom door in the tiny passageway, his face wan and sunken.

Only a shell of the man he once was remained after the sickness claimed his life.

My heart tightened. He was observing me. His tired blue eyes, which had once been filled with assurance and warmth, were now filled only with silent regret.

"Dear, is something wrong with you, hope you are okay?"

I shoved the paper behind my back and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"No, father. Everything is good and I am fine".

It was too easy for me to tell the lie. I could see the doubt flicker over his face, yet his lips twisted into a feeble smile.

" "Will you spend some time sitting with me?"

I hesitated for a second before nodding. What might I do? The smell of medicine and a faint trace of the perfume he wore before getting sick filled the dark air of his chamber.

Unopened bills were heaped on his bedside table.

I knew what was inside them. Additional notifications. More dangers. More debts that aren't paid off.

Carefully, he slid himself onto the bed. "Recently, you've been working too much."

I made an effort to grin.

"You have to stay busy, don't you?" He let out a sigh.

"You don't have to do this alone, Emilia."

I took a deep breath.

However, I do. Since my father's breakdown three years ago, I've been carrying the burden of responsibility. I had to deal with hospital stays, prescription drugs, and past-due payments.

I had worked every shift at the café, every freelance job, and every restless night to keep us afloat.

And now? We were drowning now. I fidgeted with my sleeve's hem.

"I'll work it out." He looked at me for a while. Then he became almost reluctant in his voice.

"I have some information that I would like to discuss with you."

I felt sick to my stomach, and his speech was low and reserved.

Before I could comprehend what he had told me, there was a loud bang on the door. I lurched to my feet.

No.

My ribs were smacked by my pulse. It came too soon. They weren't expected to arrive just yet.

The knocking was louder this time. More impatient. With wobbly legs, I pushed myself to stand and made my way to the door.

"Emilia, take a breath".

I immediately take a Simple breath. The door flung open before I could even turn the knob.

A man entered wearing a dark suit. He glanced at me with cold, calculating eyes and then took a clean envelope out of his pocket.

"Miss Hart," he remarked in a silky but uncaring voice. "Your landlord has issued stringent directives."

I wrapped my fingers around the doorframe's edge. "I simply require a bit more time."

He didn't flinch. "The allotted time is up." It was a slap of words.

Behind me, the sound of my father's weak cough reverberated throughout the home, serving as a sobering reminder of why I was unable to go. I took a nervous breath.

"Please. I- I was silenced when he held up a hand.

"By the end of the week, the property must be abandoned. Legal action will be taken if you refuse".

Legal action!

The room swayed. I tightened my hold on the door.

"What is our intended destination?" The man remained silent. He was indifferent. Before I could stop him, he turned and disappeared down the stairs after giving me the envelope.

With the paper burning in my hand, I stood motionless. A blustery wind shook the windows. Once replete with late-night giggles, childhood memories, and the aroma of my mother's cooking, the house felt chilly. Aliens.

Everything was being taken by them. My vision became hazy. Groceries were barely covered by the café job.

The commissions were insufficient. I didn't have any money saved. No safety net. And my dad...

With the weight pressing heavier on my chest, I turned back toward his room. I couldn't allow this to occur. My throat was scratched by desperation.

There must have been another way out.

A remedy, Something, that will help.

Then my phone buzzed in my pocket, as though fate had chosen to make fun of me. I had never seen the number that flashed across the screen before. I was hesitant to respond.

"Miss Hart." The silence was filled with a powerful, commanding voice. I stiffened. "Who is this?"

A pause. "Damian Blackwood" follows.

I was shivering at the name. I was aware of his identity. Everyone did. A billionaire, a ruthless businessman. A man who, with one choice, created empires. And the guy I shouldn't have heard from.

"What are you looking for?" I muttered. One more pause. The next thing he said chilled me to the bone.

"I have an idea for you." I gripped the phone tighter.

"I have no interest." He gave a low, knowing laugh.

"What I'm offering hasn't even reached your ears." There was something about his confident, smooth voice that made my heart race.

I shouldn't pay attention. I should end the call. However, my father's feeble cough reverberated. I shut my eyes. Blackwood, Damian is a powerful man.

A wealthy man. A man who always expected something in return for whatever he accomplished. I took a deep breath. "What sort of proposal is it?"

He spoke in a soothing and steady tone. As if he knew my response already. "Wedding." I was startled at the word. I clasped my fingers around the phone.

No, he couldn't mean- "I need a wife," he added, sounding as if he was talking about a business transaction.

"You require funds."

I was having trouble breathing. "You're not serious."

"Totally."

I felt a chilly wave of incredulity go over me. Getting married?

To Blackwood, Damian?

This was crazy, this was an error. Nevertheless- My eyes kept returning to the eviction notice that was resting on the table. The bills that haven't been paid.

The faint outline of my father in the dark corridor. My heart thumping, I put the phone to my ear. "What's the catch?" He answered without hesitation.

"A year. You pretend to be my wife. In exchange, your financial issues will be resolved and your father's medical bills will be paid".

A year I will give up the year of my life for safety. A golden chain around a lifeline. The weight of my father's future crushing against my chest made me feel as though the walls were closing in.

Although Damian's voice grew softer, it still had a hint of finality.

"Emilia, what will it be?"

With a knot in my gut, I took one last look around the house. Already, I was losing everything I had left to lose.

"You don't have to say yes, but you might later regret saying no."

Despite having a beautiful voice, Damian Blackwood exuded steel and a calm assurance that suggested he wasn't a man who was used to rejection. With my heart pounding in my ears, I tightened my hold on my phone.

The minute he brought up marriage, I ought to have hung up. This was crazy. Unimaginable. With a man like him, a contract marriage?

In addition to being a billionaire, Damian Blackwood was also cunning, strong, and merciless. However... In my hand, the eviction notice was burning as I glanced around the darkened house.

My dad came out of his bedroom coughing weakly. Nothing remained for us.

"What exactly are you looking for from me?"

My heart was pounding, but I spoke steadily. Damian said, "I told you," unconcerned by my hesitancy. "I need a wife. You must have financial stability. It is advantageous to both parties"

I gave a quick breath. "Anyone might be your spouse. Someone from your world. Why me?"

A pause occurred. His words sent a shiver down my spine when he spoke again. "Because I don't want any problems."

"I'm not looking for love. I'd like an agreement. And you seem desperate enough to accept it, in my opinion."

With a stab of pride, I gulped. He was not mistaken. With a measured tone, he added, "like I said earlier, I will cover your father's medical expenses, pay off your debts and you won't ever again have to worry about money".

Because it sounded too beautiful to be true. There was a cost to everything.

"How did you get my number, how did you know about my father's illness?" I ask with shaking voice.

He laughed through the phone, his voice echoing in my ears.

"Like, let said the world have ears, and I am a man that knows everything that happens whenever I like." He sounded so confident that I felt hurt in my stomach. But I don't know how to survive now, all I need now is to play alongside with whatever that comes front.

"What do you receive in exchange?"

"A public person that meets my board of directors' standards. Emilia, one year, and after that, we then part ways with one another".

I brushed a hand through my hair and turned my back on the eviction notice. "What if I decline?" Silence for a beat. Damian's voice then became softer.

"I'll find someone else after that, and you'll lose everything."

It was a slap of words. He was just telling the truth; he wasn't threatening me. I had nowhere to go. With a twisted heart, I closed my eyes.

"If you are ready meet me tomorrow," Damian said. "My driver will pick you up at noon."

The call ended before I could argue.

My whole body froze as I gazed at the phone in my hand. I had just entered a hazardous situation.

I also didn't know how to escape. The Following Day Gazing up at the structure that housed Blackwood Enterprises in large silver lettering, I stood outside the tall glass skyscraper.

This was it. The start of the end.

I took a deep breath and straightened my blazer, one of the few business clothes I had, before entering.

It was a slick, chilly, and scary foyer. Women in high-end shoes and men in fitted suits walked with intention. I had a sense of alienation.

"Miss Hart?" A woman with dark-rimmed spectacles and a stylish outfit came over. "You are anticipated by Mr. Blackwood. Come with me.

I made my legs move as I gave a rigid nod.

The air was heavy with expectation, and the elevator ride was quiet. The doors eventually slid open, and I entered a huge office with windows from floor to ceiling that looked out over the city.

And there he was. Blackwood, Damian. Tall, and strong in a well-tailored charcoal suit, quite attractive.

He was so in charge that I felt a chill go through me as his sharp gray eyes locked on me.

"Emilia." He uttered my name as if it were already his. I made myself look into his eyes.

"Mr. Blackwood."

His mouth quivered with laughter. "Formalities are not required. We are going to get married, after all".

The tension between us increased. "Take a seat." He pointed to the chair on the other side of his desk. With my hands clasped in my lap, I obeyed.

In front of me was a lengthy document. Damian advised me to thoroughly read it.

"Everything is outlined in this contract." My stomach turned over. a marriage under contract. Words were no longer enough. It was authentic.

My heart thumping, I skimmed the first page. A year. No sentimental attachment. No demands beyond appearances.

My breath caught as I noticed the clause. A child is not allowed at all. I took a swallow. "Didn't you really consider everything?" Damian leaned back and looked intently.

"I don't let things happen by accident."

I paused as I turned the pages, my hands shaking a little.

"And at the end of the year?"

"You leave Free and Rich". It sounded so easy with Damian Blackwood, however, nothing could ever be easy.

I had to question myself, "Why now? Why is a wife suddenly necessary?"

His face remained the same. "It's a business decision."

A falsehood. He was withholding something from me. I let out a trembling breath, my thoughts racing.

The hospital costs for my father. The expulsion. My survival weight was bearing down on me. I was being offered a bargain with the devil by Damian.

However, there were occasions when the devil was the only one willing to assist. I grabbed the pen. "A year, Not anymore".

Something inscrutable flickered in Damian's shadowed eyes. "A year."

I hit the page with the pen. Signed. Completed. I was doomed. Damian extracted a tiny velvet box from his drawer. I gazed at it. "What is that?"

His mouth twisted into a nearly lethal shape. "Your engagement ring".

Three days remain till our wedding. Still, I went. "Third days?"

He walked around the desk and stood just in front of me. I was close enough to sense his immense might.

"Emilia, you are now mine." Even though his voice was soft, it made me shudder. "You'd better adjust to it."

With my heart racing, I glanced up at him. For the first time, I understood that I had just made a commitment from which I might never be able to break.

"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.