Elena barely remembered the walk back to her apartment. Her body had moved, but her mind was locked in a storm, replaying Damien’s words on an endless loop. Each repetition burrowed deeper until it was all she could hear.

The choice is yours.

That night, she tossed and turned in bed, sleep evading her like a cruel taunt. The city outside her window hummed with distant traffic, neon lights bleeding faintly through the curtains. Every shadow seemed to mock her indecision, every sound pressing against the walls of her fragile will.

She thought of her mother—the quiet gasps when her lungs strained for air, the trembling hands reaching for a glass of water, the way she smiled to reassure Elena even when her own body betrayed her.

Elena pressed her fists to her eyes, tears threatening to spill. She had promised her mother she would find a way. And yet, the harder she worked, the more impossible it became.

Was this the way?

The thought made her stomach churn, but it lingered like a thorn she couldn’t remove.

By dawn, Elena dragged herself to the hospital, her mind still restless. The nurses gave her sympathetic smiles as she entered her mother’s room. She forced one back, but her chest ached with the weight of what she was about to do—or what she might have to do.

Her mother’s eyes fluttered open when she entered. “Sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice rough but warm. “You look tired.”

Elena sank into the chair beside the bed and grasped her mother’s hand. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Because of me?”

“No,” Elena lied quickly, shaking her head. “Just… work.”

Her mother studied her quietly, her gaze soft but sharp in that way only mothers had. “You’ve been carrying too much. I wish I could take some of that weight from you.”

Elena blinked hard against the tears burning her eyes. “You’ve already done everything. You gave me everything. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough anymore.”

Her mother squeezed her hand weakly. “You are. You always have been.”

The words pierced Elena’s heart like a blade. She wanted to believe them, but in that moment, she didn’t. Not when the world had backed her into a corner so tight she could barely breathe.

That night, she sat at the kitchen table of her apartment, bills spread before her like weapons. Red stamps screamed at her from envelopes, past due, final notice, outstanding balance. Each one was a reminder of her failure.

Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently.

Damien’s voice returned again, relentless. Stop wasting time, Elena. The choice is yours.

It was as though he were sitting across from her, watching her drown. And she hated him for it. Hated him for being right.

Her pride whispered to fight, to resist. But her heart whispered something else. Her mother didn’t have time.

The next morning, Elena found herself once again outside the Blackwood Enterprises tower. The glass shimmered under the morning sun, reflecting back her pale, exhausted face.

She stood frozen, her hands trembling in her pockets, her chest rising and falling too quickly. This was it. Once she stepped inside, there would be no turning back.

“Mom,” she whispered under her breath, as if her mother could somehow hear her across the city. “I’m doing this for you.”

With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked through the revolving glass doors.

The lobby swallowed her whole, gleaming marble floors and towering pillars radiating power and money. Suited professionals moved briskly, their heels clicking against the stone, their eyes focused and sharp.

Elena felt like an intruder, a misplaced shadow in a world that wasn’t hers. She approached the front desk, her voice wavering. “I… I need to see Damien Blackwood.”

The receptionist’s brows lifted slightly, but before she could respond, a man in a black suit appeared at her side. “Miss Carter?”

Her stomach dropped. “Yes.”

“Mr. Blackwood is expecting you.”

Her knees nearly buckled at those words. Expecting her. As though he had known she would come.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt like an eternity. Her reflection in the mirrored walls looked pale, almost ghostly, her eyes wide with fear and determination.

She clenched her fists, grounding herself. When the doors opened, she was led down a hallway lined with abstract art and glass offices. At the end, massive double doors stood open, revealing a space that looked less like an office and more like a kingdom.

Damien stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to her, his hands clasped behind him. The city sprawled out beneath him, glittering and alive.

He turned slowly as she entered, his expression calm but his eyes sharp, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

“Elena.”

Her throat tightened at the sound of her name on his lips. She swallowed hard. “I’m here to give you my answer.”

Something flickered across his face—satisfaction, though faintly concealed. He gestured toward the sleek chair across from his massive desk.

“Sit.”

Elena lowered herself into the chair, her fingers twisting in her lap. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unyielding, as though he could see straight through her skin to her soul.

“I’ll do it,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “I’ll marry you.”

The silence that followed stretched unbearably, her words hanging in the air like smoke.

Damien’s lips curved ever so slightly. “Good.”

Elena’s chest tightened. That single word carried more weight than any she had ever heard.

But before she could speak again, Damien stepped closer, leaning against the desk. His gaze pinned her where she sat.

“But understand this, Elena. Once you sign that contract, there is no turning back. You will be mine for one year. My wife in public, my partner in every way that matters. Do you understand?”

Her skin prickled under the intensity of his stare. “I understand.”

“Do you?” His voice dropped lower, his tone edged with steel. “This is not a game. You’ll be entering a world that will try to tear you apart. The media, my enemies, even people you think you can trust—they will all be watching. If you falter, they will eat you alive.”

Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Then I won’t falter.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see.”

He moved to the desk, pulling a sleek leather folder from a drawer. When he opened it, papers rustled softly. A contract.

Elena stared at it, her hands trembling. Each line of text blurred as her mind screamed at her to stop. To run. To choose her pride over this twisted arrangement.

But then she thought of her mother. Pale. Fragile. Dying.

Her breath hitched. With trembling fingers, she reached for the pen Damien slid across the desk.

Her name spilled onto the paper in uneven strokes, each letter feeling like a surrender.

When she set the pen down, Damien’s hand moved, pulling the contract back toward him. His eyes scanned her signature, and for the first time, a flicker of something softer crossed his expression.

“It’s done,” he said quietly.

Elena sat back in the chair, her chest heaving. Her pride lay shattered at her feet, but her mother’s life had a chance.

She had made her choice. And she had just stepped into the devil’s bargain.