From his penthouse office, Damian Blackwood gazed out at the city below. His eyes were fixed on the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers that stretched out before him. The view was magnificent, a testament to his success and the vast empire his family had built over generations. But today, it offered no comfort. The pressure of the looming deadline pressed heavily on him, overshadowing the satisfaction he usually felt when surveying his domain.
Behind him, his family’s lawyers shivering nervously, awaiting his response to the grim news they had delivered. Damian had always known this day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon, or under such dire circumstances.
“Thirty days,” he murmured, more to himself than to the men in the room. “You’re telling me I have just thirty days to find a wife, or everything my family has built will be stripped away?”
Mr. Jennings, the head lawyer, cleared his throat. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. Your grandfather’s will stipulates that if you do not marry before your thirtieth birthday, the majority share of the company will pass to your uncle.”
He turned, his expression as cold and unyielding as the steel and glass around him. “My uncle is a fool. My uncle would ruin this company within a year.”
Jennings nodded, uncomfortable but agreeing. “That’s why we need to act fast. Your options, however, are…limited.”
He resisted the urge to scoff. “Limited” didn’t begin to cover it. He had spent the last few years cultivating a reputation as a ruthless, uncompromising businessman. Traits that had served him well in expanding the Blackwood empire, but had also made him virtually unapproachable to any woman with a shred of self-preservation. Wooing someone into a real marriage under these conditions seemed impossible.
“And the list of ‘suitable candidates’ my mother provided?” Damian asked, already knowing the answer.
Jennings hesitated before producing a slim folder. “Your mother has identified several potential brides from reputable families. However, given your reputation…” He trailed off, uncomfortable.
Damian snatched the folder from his hand and flipped it open, scanning the profiles of women who were undoubtedly well-bred and well-mannered, but utterly boring. He tossed the folder onto his desk with a sigh of frustration.
“I don’t need a wife. I need a partner,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Someone who can handle the pressures of my world without flinching, who won’t try to manipulate or undermine me.”
Jennings said nothing, wisely waiting for Damian to work through his thoughts. After a few moments, Damian’s expression hardened.
“There is someone,” Damian said slowly, “who might just fit the bill. But it’s a long shot.”
Jennings looked intrigued but wary. “Who do you have in mind, Mr. Blackwood?”
“Elara Hart,” Damian replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I choose her. She’s tough, smart, and ambitious. We’ve butted heads before, but she’s not the type to back down from a challenge.”
Jennings raised an eyebrow. “The lawyer? Didn’t you have a rather…contentious encounter with her during that real estate deal last year?”
Damian’s smile faded, replaced by a sly look. “Contentious is an understatement. But that’s exactly why she’s perfect. She won’t be intimidated by my name or my money. And if I know her at all, she’s in a situation where she could use what I’m offering.”
Jennings still seemed skeptical. “And what exactly will you offer her, Mr. Blackwood? This…arrangement will be unusual, to say the least.”
Damian turned back to the window, his mind already calculating the risks and rewards. Elara was in a tough spot with the scandal she was involved in, and as much as he hated to admit it, he respected her. She was the only woman he knew who wouldn’t be cowed by the expectations of his world—or by him.
“I’ll offer her a way out,” he said, his voice cold with courage. “A marriage of convenience, with terms that benefit us both. She’ll get the protection and resources she needs to clear her name and save her career. And in return, I’ll get what I need: control of Blackwood Industries.”
Jennings nodded slowly, his respect for Damian’s cunning clear in his eyes. “It could work, though convincing her might be a challenge. You two didn’t part on the best terms.”
Damian’s jaw tightened as he remembered the last time he’d seen Elara, how she had stood her ground against him, stubborn and fierce, in a battle of wills that had left them both scarred. But this wasn’t about the past. This was about survival, and he had never been one to back down from a fight.
“I’ll convince her,” he said with cold finality. “She’ll take the deal because she won’t have a choice. I’ll be her only way and savior to clear her name.”
“And if she refuse?” Jennings asked.
He scoffed, an evil smile curling on his lips. “Do you really think she’s going to reject my offer, Jennings? Watch me.”
“But you need to act quickly,” he advised. “If she refuses, I suggest you reconsider the potential brides your mother has chosen.”
“Leave,” he commanded.”
As the lawyers left the room, Damian remained by the window, his mind already racing ahead to the next steps. He would contact Elara, lay out the terms, and close this deal just like he had so many others—swiftly, decisively, and with no room for failure.
But as he stared out at the city, a flicker of unease crept into his thoughts, remembering the lawyer’s advice. He smirked, brushing it aside. Confidence surged within him. He could conquer her, just like any other deal. Yet, another thought flashed in his mind. This wasn’t just another business transaction. It might require him to show her off in front of the media and everyone, convincing them that he loved her and had married her.
“One year of a relationship isn’t so bad,” he muttered to himself. He hated the idea of letting a woman near him, but he had to do this to inherit his grandfather’s will. He could divorce her after a year and pay her off.
With a deep breath, he turned away from the window and reached for his phone, dialing a number he hadn’t called in a long time. As it rang, he steeled himself for the conversation ahead, knowing that the next few minutes could change everything.
“Elara,” he said when the call connected, his voice as smooth and confident as ever. “We need to talk.”
Six Ten years. Ten fucking years of blood, bullets, and brotherhood.I stared at the ornate ceiling of Don Vicenzo's study, counting the cherubs painted in some long-dead artist's vision of heaven. Ironic, considering the hell that transpired in the room below them."You understand what you're asking, Six?" The Don's voice carried the weight of tradition. Of rules written in blood. "La fratellanza is for life."I kept my expression neutral, years of training holding my features in check. "I understand, Don Vicenzo. But I've served faithfully. I've never asked for anything before."The Don's fingers drummed against his mahogany desk – the same desk where I'd pledged my loyalty a decade ago. A frightened kid with blood on his hands and nowhere else to go. Now I was his best enforcer, the shadow that kept La fratellanza's enemies awake at night."The number six," he mused, "has become quite the legend. Our rivals whisper about it. The police have entire task forces dedicated to it." A wr
Five years had passed since the tumultuous events that had reshaped their lives. The world of Damian and Elara had transformed, each piece falling into a complex but harmonious puzzle of success, love, and calculated revenge.Jackson and Tessa’s relationship had blossomed into something unexpected and profound. What had begun as a professional connection had gradually evolved into a passionate romance. Jackson, now known for his cold, calculated approach to business, had found a softness in Tessa that he never thought possible.She brought light to his structured world, her carefree spirit balancing his intense personality. They had married a year after Damian and Elara’s epic wedding - a celebration that had been the talk of high society.That wedding - Damian’s grand gesture to Elara - had been nothing short of spectacular. He had spared no expense, transforming an entire historic estate into a breathtaking venue. Thousands of white roses lined the pathways, crystal chandeliers hung
Elara stood at the doorway, waving at Tessa until her car disappeared down the driveway. A soft smile lingered on her lips, but it quickly faded as she turned back to the house, her thoughts drifting back to Damian.His presence always left her both breathless and overwhelmed, and the way he had looked at her this morning stayed imprinted in her mind. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.Walking back inside, she passed a few maids tidying up the living room. They greeted her with polite smiles, and she returned the gesture before heading to Ace’s nursery. She found him sound asleep, his tiny hands curled into fists. Elizabeth had decorated the nursery in soft pastels, filling it with warmth and love. Elara stood by the crib, watching her son’s chest rise and fall.***The concrete walls of the women’s correctional facility felt cold and unforgiving. Elizabeth walked with measured steps, her elegant demeanor unchanged despite the stark surroundings. Her purse was carefully
They rested for a while before Elara stood up.“I need to bathe,” she said, rising to her feet.“Are you sure?” Damian asked, noticing her legs trembling slightly.“Yes,” she replied. She knew she needed some space from him; otherwise, he might take her again. “I’ll be back.” With trembling legs, she carefully made her way to the bathroom. Under the spray of the shower, she sighed contentedly, still feeling the lingering warmth of Damian’s affection on her skin.She quickly washed herself, then reached for a towel to dry off. Wrapping it securely around her, she walked back to the bedroom. At the nightstand, she found her moisturizer and began applying it to her skin. Her body trembled under Damian’s intense gaze, which followed her every movement.“Stop looking,” she said, glaring at him.“Why should I? I can never get enough of you.”A blush crept onto her face as she turned away. “Don’t say that,” she whispered.“I won’t get tired of saying it, honey. You’ll just have to adapt.”Ela
The first light of dawn gently filtered through the sheer curtains of the penthouse, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Outside, the world was slowly waking up, but inside their bedroom, a peaceful stillness enveloped them, as if time had paused.Elara was nestled against Damian, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm was wrapped around her, his hand gently tracing circles on her bare shoulder.Damian stirred, his eyes fluttering open to find Elara already gazing at him. Her soft smile greeted him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the serenity of her presence.“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice still husky from sleep.“Good morning, love,” he replied, his voice deep and warm. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as if savoring the simplicity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?”Elara nodded, her fingers tracing the defined lines of his chest. “I always sleep well when you’re here.”A
“She’s finished,” Jackson said quietly, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. “There’s no coming back from this.”Damian nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere. “She made her choice.”Jackson glanced at his friend, studying the hard lines of Damian’s face. “And Daniel?”“He won’t get far,” Damian replied, his voice low and confident. “By the time he realizes his escape route is compromised, it will be too late. The authorities will handle the rest.”For a moment before Jackson spoke again. “Do you think she meant it?”Damian arched a brow. “Meant what?”“When she said she loved you.”Damian’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “Love?” He scoffed. “Vera doesn’t know the meaning of the word. What she feels isn’t love. It’s an obsession. An insatiable need to possess what she can’t have.”Jackson exhaled softly. “I guess I always knew. I just hoped…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”Damian’s gaze softened briefly. “You deserved better, Jackson.