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.”
Elara sat on the edge of her bed, overwhelmed by the weight of the past few days. Her usually tidy apartment now felt like a prison, suffocating and confining. The once cozy space now seemed small and oppressive as her mind raced, replaying the events that had brought her to this point.The scandal that had erupted had shattered her world. The accusation of unethical practices, the firm’s sudden withdrawal of support, the whispered conversations behind her back, all of it had come crashing down on her with a ferocity she hadn’t anticipated. She was on the brink of making partner, a milestone she’d worked tirelessly to achieve, and now it all seemed to be slipping through her fingers.Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment, she considered letting it go to voicemail again. But something compelled her to answer, perhaps a hope for any news that might offer a solution.“Hello?” she answered, her voice revealing her exhaustion.“El
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess as she replayed the events of Damian’s proposition. It had been as audacious as it was unexpected. Marrying Damian Blackwood, even temporarily, was a move that could either save her career or ruin her completely, so she intended not to accept his offer.She strode through the glass doors of the Marshall & Hewitt Firm, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor with a confident rhythm, ignoring the whispers among her colleagues. It had been like this ever since her name hit the media. None of them offered to help her, and the firm had suddenly withdrawn their resources.The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the modern decor in a golden light. For a brief moment, she savored the familiar scent of leather and the gentle hum of morning activity in the office. This was her domain, a world she had painstakingly built through years of hard work, late nights, and unwavering determination.As she approached her office, her
Elara stood before the massive iron gates of Damian’s estate, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety.The decision to meet with Damian had not come easily. The entire drive here, she had wrestled with herself, going over every possible outcome and every consequence. But here she was, standing on the precipice of a decision that could change her life forever.The gates swung open with a low, ominous creak, and she drove up the long, winding driveway, the manicured lawns and towering trees standing as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. The mansion loomed ahead, its imposing architecture a stark reminder of the world Damian inhabited—a world she was about to step into.Upon parking and stepping out of the car, a uniformed butler promptly approached her, guiding her into the grand foyer. The silence of the surroundings felt eerie, and the sheer opulence of the place was almost too much to take in. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the gl
Elara had called her mother the day before her wedding, feeling the heaviness in her heart for the conversation she knew she had to have. “Hello, Mom,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “How are you?” “I’m fine, Elara. How are you?” her mother asked. Elara could sense the unease in her voice. “Is something wrong, Mother?” she asked, her concern growing. “Nothing,” her mother replied quickly, though Elara could tell she was holding something back. “Is James there with you?” Elara inquired, thinking she could ask her brother what was wrong with their mother. “No, he’s out with his friends,” her mother answered. James was the social one, always surrounded by friends, unlike Elara, who preferred the company of a single close friend. “Why did you call? Do you have news for me?” “Yes, Mother,” Elara began, her heart racing. “I’m getting married.” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then her mother’s voice, sharp and incredulous, broke the silence. “What!
The morning after the wedding, the headlines were everywhere.“Billionaire Damian Blackwood Marries High-Powered Attorney in a Surprise Ceremony.”“Power Couple or Strategic Alliance? Inside the Blackwood-Hart Union.”“From Rivals to Partners: The Unexpected Marriage of Damian Blackwood and Elara Hart.”Elara sat at the breakfast table in Damian’s mansion, flipping through the numerous newspapers and magazines that had covered their wedding. She had expected the media frenzy, but seeing her name and face plastered on every page was jarring. The articles ranged from glowing admiration of their combined power to cynical speculation about their motives.Damian, sitting across from her, appeared unbothered as he sipped his coffee and glanced at his tablet. He was used to being in the public eye, his every move analyzed and critiqued. For him, this was just another day. But for Elara, the scrutiny was frightening.“Is it always like this?” she asked, setting down a tabloid with a headline
Elara had never felt more out of place in her life.The sprawling Blackwood mansion, with its towering ceilings and lavish decor, was a far cry from the modest apartment she had called home for years. As she stood in the grand lobby, taking in the marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and priceless art adorning the walls, she couldn’t help but feel like an intruder in someone else’s world.“This way, Mrs. Blackwood,” a stern-faced butler uttered, motioning for her to follow him up the sweeping staircase.Mrs. Blackwood. The title still felt foreign, like a role she was playing in someone else’s life. She wondered how long it would take before the name stopped sounding so strange.The butler led her to a suite of rooms at the far end of the second floor. “This will be your private space,” he explained as he opened the double doors, revealing a luxurious sitting room connected to a spacious bedroom. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”“Thank you,” Elara replied, trying
Elara’s new life as Mrs. Blackwood began with a sense of overwhelming displacement.She had stepped into a world of privilege and luxury, a stark contrast to the life she had known before. Every corner of Damian’s sprawling mansion seemed to whisper of old money and aristocratic lineage—a world that felt as foreign to her as another planet. As she wandered through the corridors, each room more opulent than the last, Elara couldn’t help but feel like an outsider.Moving into the mansion was supposed to be part of the arrangement, a formality to solidify their public image as a married couple. But now that she was here, surrounded by this display of wealth and power, she wondered how she would ever feel at home. The mansion was stunning, with its marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and priceless art. But to Elara, it was also cold, impersonal, and daunting.She spent days exploring the estate, trying to familiarize herself with the labyrinth of rooms, salons, and galleries. The gardens,
Elara sat down on her bed, tired of everything. She had tried calling Leah several times without success. Exhausted, she picked up her phone and dialed her friend Tessa’s number.“Hello, baby girl,” Tessa said, picking up her phone on the first ring. “How is married life treating you?” Elara sighed. She had to confess that everything was tiring.“It is tiring, Tessa,” she complained. “Everything.”“What’s wrong?” Tessa asked, sounding concerned.“Nothing. Everything still feels unreal. The jewelry, the designer clothes, everything,” she responded.“You know who you married, girl. It’s Damian Blackwood, the youngest billionaire and hot guy,” Tessa screamed, almost hurting her ears. “So many people think your marriage is loveless, given what happened between you and him in the past. I still can’t believe my friend married Damian.” Elara was silent. What others were thinking was right. They were right about their marriage. They both hated each other, but they didn’t have a choice but to
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.
Vera stumbled backward, her legs shaky beneath her as the walls of her reality closed in. Her heart raced, and her mind screamed for a way out, for a lifeline, but none appeared.The calculated calm she once wielded like a weapon was shattered, leaving only the raw, frantic fear of a woman cornered.“You... you don’t know anything!” Vera spat, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and desperation. “You’re bluffing.”Jackson’s smirk only deepened. “Am I?” He leaned against the edge of the mahogany desk, arms crossed, watching her unravel with an almost clinical detachment. “Let me guess, you’re thinking of running, aren’t you?” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Trying to calculate how far you can get before we catch you?”Damian’s cold gaze remained fixed on her, unyielding and unmerciful. “You’re not going anywhere, Vera. Not until you answer for your sins.”“I’ve committed no sins!” she shouted, her voice cracking under the pressure. “You’re just trying to pin your failures on me. Y
“Jackson.” Vera’s voice echoed through the silent room. She had been called by him, and now she stood in his study, surrounded by towering bookshelves and the lingering scent of old paper.She smiled as she walked around, her fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound volumes, searching for something she couldn’t quite name. The late afternoon light filtered through heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the Persian rug.She was still searching the room when Jackson walked in. His footsteps were nearly silent on the thick carpet, but something in the air changed – a shift in pressure, perhaps, or just the weight of his presence.“You’re here.” His voice startled her, making her stop immediately. She rose to her feet, trying to compose herself. “Vera.” His tone was cold, like ice, as he walked toward her.“Yes,” she replied with a smile. A smile she knew Jackson always looked forward to. “You called me here? Is something wrong?” She placed her hand on his chest as Jackson
The sterile lights of Damian’s penthouse cast a cold, artificial glow across the room, but the atmosphere between him and Jackson was anything but sterile. It buzzed with an undercurrent of controlled chaos, the final pieces of a counter-plan falling seamlessly into place.Damian leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, his sharp gaze locked on Jackson. “You’ve done well, Jackson. Vera and Daniel need to know who they were planning for. I will make them suffer and regret ever thinking of hurting me or my loved ones.” His voice was calm, but the satisfaction lurking beneath it was unmistakable.Jackson met his gaze with equal confidence. “She underestimated me. So did Daniel. They thought I was nothing more than a pawn.”Damian’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “You’ve proven otherwise.”Jackson appreciated the rare acknowledgment, but his mind was already on the next move. “Daniel will act soon. His pride won’t let him sit idle. He’s desperate, and despe