I never expected my boss to blackmail me into marriage. Ethan Sinclair the cold, calculating billionaire who never cracks a smile holds a secret over my head, forcing me into a fake marriage to secure his family’s inheritance. I hate him for it, but I need the money to save my brother’s life. The rules are simple: play the devoted wife for a year, follow his lead in public, and stay out of his way behind closed doors. But as sparks fly and buried secrets unravel, I realize Ethan isn’t just ruthless, he’s hiding something even more dangerous. The closer I get, the harder it becomes to remember this is all just a contract. Because falling for the devil was never part of the deal.
Lihat lebih banyak“The woman at the center of the storm.”Logan Pierce’s words hung in the air like an omen, sinking into the dimly lit room like a fog, thick and suffocating.I forced my expression to remain neutral, though every nerve in my body was on edge. The way he said it, like he already knew me. Like I was some predetermined piece in a game I hadn’t agreed to play made my skin crawl.“That’s dramatic,” I muttered, keeping my voice flat.Logan’s smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth curving with something that wasn’t quite amusement, wasn’t quite malice. “Isn’t it?”Ethan wasn’t amused. “Sit.”He didn’t direct the order at Logan. He meant me.For a moment, I considered defying him. Just to remind him I wasn’t some pawn he could push around. But the weight of exhaustion settled deep in my bones, and I knew I had to pick my battles. So, I sank onto the leather couch, my arms crossing over my chest.Logan, completely at ease, took his time settling into the chair across from me, stretching out
The SUV sliced through the night like a silent predator, devouring the miles between us and the city. The hum of the tires against the road was the only sound filling the tense silence inside the car. Ethan sat beside me, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming against his knee in a steady calculated and controlled rhythm. His mind was somewhere else, far ahead of us, mapping out the next move, anticipating every possible threat. I stared out the window, watching as the towering skyscrapers and flickering neon lights of New York faded into darkness, replaced by vast stretches of highway and dense, looming trees. The further we drove, the more it felt like we were leaving civilization itself. A cold knot twisted in my stomach. Finally, I exhaled, breaking the silence. “Where exactly is ‘home’?” Ethan’s gaze flicked to me, but his expression remained unreadable. “Somewhere safe.” I let out a hollow laugh. “Safe? There’s no such thing anymore.” He didn’t argue. He didn’t need to
The room felt like it had been drained of oxygen. I stared at the phone in my hand, my fingers curled so tightly around it that my knuckles turned white. The screen flickered, casting a pale glow on my face, but all I could focus on was the image. The bold, jagged letters scrawled across my apartment door like a bloody warning. Nowhere is safe. A shiver crept down my spine. The words weren’t just a threat. They were a promise. I sucked in a shaky breath, but the air felt thick, heavy, as if the walls were closing in. Ethan moved first. His hand shot out, snatching the phone from my grasp. His grip was tight, controlled, but the muscle in his jaw ticked. A sign that the control was hanging by a thread. His gaze flicked over the image, scanning every detail, and then, with a sharp inhale, he turned to me. “Pack a bag.” I blinked, my mind still trying to catch up. “What?” “You’re not staying here. You’re not going back to your apartment.” His voice was clipped, edged with
“Let go of me, Ethan.” I kept my voice steady, but my body betrayed me. My hands trembled. My pulse hammered against my ribs, each beat screaming at me to run. Ethan’s grip on my wrist didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either. His fingers, warm and solid, were the only thing anchoring me in place. He stood rigid, his jaw ticking, his body wound so tight it looked like he might snap. “I can’t.” A shiver rippled down my spine. Elias let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is getting good. What’s next, Sinclair? You gonna lock her up in your penthouse?” Ethan didn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze was locked on mine, intense and unyielding. “If that’s what it takes to keep her safe.” A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me. “You don’t get to decide that.” His grip flexed. Just a twitch of his fingers but I felt it everywhere. “I do when Damien Cross is hunting you.” Elias exhaled dramatically. “And there it is. The Sinclair control complex.” He smirked, shifting against the des
The room felt like it was closing in. The walls seemed narrower, the air thick with something I couldn’t name. The grainy video on the screen played in an endless loop, the scene burned into my mind. Ethan. A silencer. A body collapsing to the floor. Blood spreading like ink across white tiles. My breath came fast, uneven. It was like my brain refused to process what I’d just seen. “Tell me that wasn’t you.” My voice barely sounded like mine. It was strained and fragile on the verge of breaking. Ethan didn’t move. He didn’t speak. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… God, his eyes. I had seen them dark before, filled with anger, with lust, with unspoken emotions I never had the courage to name. But this? This was different. His gaze was a void. Hollow. As if the man I thought I knew was locked somewhere inside, just out of reach. Something inside me cracked. I stepped back, shaking my head. “Say something.” Ethan finally exhaled, slow and control
“Put the gun down, Ethan.” Elias’s voice was smooth and calculated like a snake slithering through the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He stood in the doorway with the ease of a man who owned the world, his fingers lightly brushing against the frame. His other hand was tucked in his pocket, casual, almost lazy, but I knew better. Nothing about Elias Carter was ever lazy. Every move was deliberate. Every word, a weapon. Ethan, however, was a fortress. His stance was unwavering, shoulders squared, his gun aimed with lethal precision. He wasn’t just holding a weapon. He was a weapon. “You’re trespassing.” His voice was razor-sharp. Elias smirked. Smirked. Like none of this mattered, like he hadn’t just shattered the world I’d built with his sudden presence. “And you’re holding something that belongs to me.” The words sliced through the air, thick with meaning. My breath caught. Me. Ethan’s hold on the gun tightened. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
I shook my head, my chest rising and falling too fast. “No.” Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Yes.” My pulse pounded against my ribs like a trapped animal. I took a step back, needing distance, but Ethan was relentless, closing in, his presence thick like a storm cloud about to break. “Elias is gone,” I whispered. “He has to be gone.” Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying me like he was waiting for me to figure out the truth on my own. “Do you really believe that?” I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But Ethan’s voice carried the weight of something inevitable, something unshakable. I clenched my fists at my sides. “He used me. Lied to me. Left me.” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Why the hell would he want me back?” Ethan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he spoke. “Because you’re the only thing he ever lost.” The words slammed into me. For a moment, the room faded, replaced by the ghosts of memories I had fought to bury. Elias’s hands
I stumbled back, shaking my head, my breath coming too fast. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm that made my chest ache. “You’re lying.” Ethan didn’t move, didn’t blink. “Am I?” His voice was maddeningly calm, like he was talking about the weather and not completely tearing my world apart. I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe that. But the video kept replaying in my mind, every detail slicing through me like a serrated knife Elias smirking, rolling that damn cigarette between his fingers like I had been nothing more than a business deal, an asset. A job. My stomach lurched. “How long have you known?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. Ethan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw like he was debating how much to say. “Long enough.” I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “And you just let me keep believing he cared?” He arched a brow. “Would you have believed me if I told you earlier?” I opened my mouth, ready to snap ba
The walls of Ethan’s hidden room closed in around me, suffocating, too full of secrets I wasn’t ready to face. My pulse pounded in my ears as his words echoed inside my skull. “You were a job.” It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. I took a step back, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. The folder with my name on it sat between us like a loaded gun. My life, reduced to paper. Dates. Records. A complete history. Ethan watched me with maddening patience, as if waiting for me to process the truth or waiting for me to break. I wouldn’t. I lifted my chin. “You’re lying.” He sighed, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I don’t lie, Isabella.” Something in his voice made my stomach churn. He sounded tired, almost resigned, but there was an underlying certainty that terrified me. I turned my back to him, gripping the folder so tightly my knuckles ached. I flipped through the pages again, my eyes scanning too fast, desperate for something. Anything to prove him wrong
“Marry me, or your brother dies.” The words slam into me like a gunshot. I grip the armrests of my chair, my nails digging into the leather. My heart pounds so violently I feel it in my throat. The air in Ethan Sinclair’s office is thick, suffocating, closing in around me. He can’t be serious. But the way his ice-blue eyes bore into mine calmly, unwavering, tells me he is. “You’re insane,” I whisper, my pulse hammering. Ethan leans back, completely unfazed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He takes a slow sip, savoring it, like we’re discussing stock options and not my life. “Your brother’s medical bills are piling up,” he says, voice smooth, controlled. “The hospital won’t wait forever.” His words strike like a whip. My fingers tighten around the armrests until they hurt. Liam. The image of my little brother flashes in my mind. His pale skin, weak breaths, tubes and monitors surrounding his frail body. The doctors said there was hope...
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