BROOKLYN

The pen was heavier than I expected. Or maybe that was just the weight of what I’d done.

My signature looked strange next to his like graffiti scrawled across a polished wall. I stared at it for a second longer, half expecting the earth to shift beneath my feet.

But nothing happened.

No lightning. No sirens. Just a man with steel-gray eyes watching me like I was a pawn finally moved into position.

“We’ll be legally married by Monday,” Dominic said flatly, plucking the contract off the table and sliding it back into the folder like we’d just closed a business deal over coffee. “Civil ceremony. Quiet. No press. My lawyer will handle the paperwork.”

My pulse jumped. “Wait…that fast?”

He looked at me like I’d asked whether the sky was blue. “I don’t have the luxury of time, Miss Carson.”

“Right.” I muttered

His expression didn’t change. “You’ll be moving into my home this weekend. Bring only what’s necessary—essentials, valuables. No clutter.”

I blinked. “What do you mean, ‘clutter’?”

“I mean, if it looks like it belongs in a college dorm, leave it behind.”

I stared at him. “You’re dictating what I bring?”

He didn’t even flinch. “I’m dictating the optics. You’re about to become my wife. The press will do a deep dive the moment the marriage is public. You’ll be living in my house. You’ll look the part.”

Something cold twisted in my gut. “And what part is that, exactly?”

He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, gaze cutting. “My world doesn’t allow for pajama pants and chipped nail polish. You’ll have a new wardrobe—fitted, neutral, upscale. The family stylist will handle it.”

I stiffened. “So I’m just supposed to turn into your version of a Stepford wife overnight?”

He gave a thin smile. “You can wear whatever you want—in private. But in public? You represent me. And I don’t leave things to chance.”

My spine straightened instinctively. “You know, you could try being less of a controlling ass. Just a suggestion.”

His brows lifted, amused. “And yet, you still signed.”

I wanted to punch him. Or maybe myself.

But I couldn’t afford to back out now—not with Elliot depending on me.

My voice dropped. “What about him? My brother?”

“You’ll both move in together,” he said, like it was nothing. “Your bedroom and his will be in the east wing. Separated from mine. Staff have already been briefed. His school enrollment will be handled Monday morning.”

The way he said it..so calm, so transactional made my skin crawl.

“You planned all this before I even agreed.”

“I don’t do improvisation.”

I should’ve known. He didn’t strike me as the kind of man who left anything to chance. But still—this was my life. My brother’s life.

I crossed my arms. “And if he doesn’t adjust well?”

“He will,” he said simply. “Kids adapt. Especially when their future depends on it.”

The room went quiet.

That was the part that scared me the most. He wasn’t threatening Elliot but he knew. He knew I’d never risk my brother’s safety, never walk away, never rattle the cage.

Because the cage wasn’t just gold. It was lined with money, healthcare, opportunity. Everything I couldn’t give Elliot on my own.

And he knew that.

“I want to pack myself,” I said finally. “And I’ll need the weekend. I have to make arrangements. Talk to Elliot.”

“You have until Sunday at 8 a.m.,” he replied. “A driver will pick you up. You’ll be moved in by noon. Orientation begins the moment you arrive.”

“Orientation?”

His lips twitched. “You’ll need to learn how to play the role. Public statements. Relationship history. You’ll be briefed.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. This wasn’t a job,it was a damn conversion.

“So… I sign a piece of paper, give up my entire wardrobe, move into a billionaire’s mansion with my little brother, and start playing dress-up for cameras. Did I miss anything?”

“You missed the part where you’re being paid two million dollars.”

He said it like he was reminding me of a favor.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I clenched my jaw, grabbed my purse, and forced myself to my feet.

“I’ll be ready by Sunday.”

He gave me a curt nod. “Miss Carson.”

I was halfway to the door before I spun around. “By the way,if you ever speak about my brother like he’s a line item again, this deal ends. I don’t care how much money you throw at me. Understood?”

For the first time, something flickered across his face. Maybe surprise. Maybe respect. Maybe nothing at all.

“Understood.”

I walked out before I could say something stupid like how terrifying it was to sign away your freedom, even if the cage was lined with silk and stacked with zeros.