ElIZABETH POV
The silence in the room was suffocating. I sat alone, dressed in a pale-blue silk dress that wasn’t mine. Josephine had sent it up with a note that simply read: Look presentable. No explanation. No kindness. Just orders. The room was cold, sterile, like the rest of this house. One of Father’s side lounges, barely used, yet spotless. Not a place for something as sacred as a marriage agreement. And yet… here I was. My heart thudded behind my ribs, relentless and loud. I hadn’t asked questions. I didn’t have the right. Father had made that painfully clear. Jessica had smiled the entire morning like she was walking into a fairytale. Of course she was. She was marrying Christian Reed — the billionaire, the untouchable, the man whose name was always said in hushed tones. Cold. Dangerous. Powerful. And I? I was being handed over to Peter Johnson. Sixty-five. Divorced four times. I’d Googled him the night before. Every article was worse than the last. I couldn’t imagine what I was to face in this marriage. But this… this wasn’t about love. This was a transaction. A transaction. I was just waiting for the buyer. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the silence wrap around me. Maybe if I stayed still enough, time would slow. Mayb— The door opened. Soft. Deliberate. My eyes snapped open. And then I saw him. Tall. Imposing. Dressed in an all-black tailored suit that clung to him like sin itself. His presence sucked the air out of the room. A mask of cold indifference rested on his face. He didn’t look sixty-five. In fact, he looked nothing like the pictures of Peter Johnson I’d seen. This man was younger, taller and terrifyingly calm. Sharp jaw. Pale eyes. The kind of man who didn’t need to speak to command a room. The kind of man you didn’t say no to. The kind of man who didn’t ask. He took. He paused in the doorway, scanning the room. Then his eyes landed on me. “Harper?” His voice was low, clipped, and unmistakably annoyed. My breath caught. That single word wrapped around me like a snare. I stood instinctively. “I—” His gaze didn’t waver. “I said, are you Harper?” “Yes.” The word came out before I could think. My voice felt too soft in the space between us. Something flashed in his eyes. Not warmth. Just calculation. He stepped further inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. “You’re not what I expected.” I didn’t know how to respond to that. My heart was pounding too hard for me to think. He walked toward the table, not looking at me anymore. Just business. Like this was just another deal. Like I was another name on a contract. He picked up the pen. “I don’t like long meetings,” he muttered. “Sign.” I blinked. “Wait—I think there’s been a mistake. You’re supposed to—” He turned his head, slow and sharp. “You’re Harper’s daughter, aren’t you?” “Yes, but—” “Then sign.” I hesitated. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t old. He wasn’t sixty-five. This wasn’t Peter. This man was younger, colder, than the man I was told about. Maybe he’s Peter’s assistant? Someone here on his behalf? The air was thinning, and my brain couldn’t process what was happening fast enough. “I’m not sure if—” I tried again. “Sign the damn papers,” he said, his voice low and razor-edged. I swallowed hard. My father’s threats echoed in my mind. If you don’t, you’ll never see your son again. I swallowed hard. And I signed. With a hand that didn’t feel like mine, I scribbled my name on the line, sealing whatever fate had just stepped through the door. He didn’t say thank you. Didn’t nod. Didn’t blink. He simply took the documents, turned, and walked out the way he came. Leaving me standing there in a silence so thick I could barely breathe. I stayed seated, trying to collect my thoughts. That had been fast. And terrifying. What just happened? I was still frozen when the door burst open. Jessica stood there, her lipstick too bright, her eyes wide and unblinking. “What the hell just happened?” she asked, her voice shrill. I blinked. “What are you talking about?” “He came out of your room!” She screamed. My pulse skipped. “Who?” “Christian,” she hissed. “Christian Reed!” For a minute I went still. My world tilted. “What…?” I breathed. Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t.” “Didn’t what?” “You signed the contract. With Christian Reed. My fiancé.” I stood slowly, confusion and dread twisting in my gut. I felt like I’d been slapped. Christian Reed? That was Christian Reed? The ruthless billionaire? The one my father wanted Jessica to marry? The man who’d just barked orders at me like I was a stray dog? “That wasn’t Peter Johnson?” I asked, the words barely forming. Jessica laughed, but it was bitter and sharp. “Do you think a man like that would be named Peter?” I felt the blood drain from my face. “I thought he was someone else,” I whispered. “An assistant. He didn’t even introduce himself! He just said Harper and told me to sign.” Jessica turned on her heel and stormed out. Moments later, I heard voices, loud, angry ones—coming from the hallway. “What is going on?” My father’s voice, thunderous and irritated. “She signed the contract with Christian!” Jessica yelled. “She stole him!” “I swear, I didn’t—!” I started, stepping out into the hall. Christian stood there, arms folded, completely unmoved by the chaos. Mr. Harper looked between us, eyes narrowing. “What is this?” Christian’s voice was calm. Dangerous. “You told me you had one daughter.” “There’s been a mistake,” my father said quickly, trying to recover. “Christian, we can fix this—” “I don’t do mistakes,” Christian cut in, his tone colder than ice. “And I certainly don’t redo contracts.” Jessica gasped. “You’re still going to marry her? She’s not even beautiful!” He looked at her like she was insignificant. “I already have.” My breath hitched. This couldn’t be real. Everything felt like a fever dream. “But she wasn’t meant for you!” “She is now.” And with that, he turned to me. “You. Pack your things. You’re coming with me.” My mouth opened. Closed. No one said a word. Jessica looked like she might explode. Mr. Harper looked like he’d swallowed poison. And me? I felt like I had just sold my soul to a stranger with a black mask and a voice like a blade. “Now!” I flinched. I turned and left. Because what choice did I have?Elizabeth POV The pounding in my head felt like a punishment. Like karma with steel boots. I groaned and rolled onto my side, pressing my palm against my forehead. My mouth was dry, my stomach queasy, and everything smelled like regret. Regret... and perfume. My dress was still on. My shoes were off. The glitter on my skin had transferred to the silk sheets, like guilt tattooed in shimmer. I didn’t have to remember everything to know I messed up. But then it hit me. Christian. I shot upright. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, wincing at the sting behind my eyes. The memories came in flashes: the bass thumping in my veins, the drinks, the girls, the dancing. His voice cutting through it all like a blade. That furious look on his face. The hard grip on my waist. His hand smacking my ass in front of the whole damn club. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Or was it shame? You belong to me now. I shivered. I flopped back against the pillows, burying my face in my ha
ELIZABETH POV The pounding in my head felt like a punishment. Like karma with steel boots. I groaned and rolled onto my side, pressing my palm against my forehead. My mouth was dry, my stomach queasy, and everything smelled like regret. Regret... and perfume. My dress was still on. My shoes were off. The glitter on my skin had transferred to the silk sheets, like guilt tattooed in shimmer. I didn’t have to remember everything to know I messed up. But then it hit me. Christian. I shot upright. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, wincing at the sting behind my eyes. The memories came in flashes: the bass thumping in my veins, the drinks, the girls, the dancing. His voice cutting through it all like a blade. That furious look on his face. The hard grip on my waist. His hand smacking my ass in front of the whole damn club. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Or was it shame? You belong to me now. I shivered. I flopped back against the pillows, burying my face in my
Christian POV I pushed out of the club’s entrance, the heavy door slamming shut behind me, silencing the chaos. The guards were already waiting by the car, tension carved into their stances as they opened the back door. I dropped her down—none too gently—her feet wobbling in those ridiculous high heels. She swayed. I caught her chin between my fingers, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Jesus,” I muttered darkly, leaning in, “you reek of alcohol.” Her lips were parted, glossy and red from too much lipstick, her eyes glassy, unfocused. She looked up at me like a fucking lamb caught in the wolf’s jaws. “Did you forget you’re someone’s wife, Elizabeth? My wife ffs! Or did you come out tonight hoping to be reminded what that means?” She said nothing. Smart girl. I dragged my thumb across her bottom lip, smearing the red gloss. “You think you can flash this mouth, this body… and I’ll just look the other way?” I smiled. Cold. Dangerous. “Get in the car.Elizabeth” She slid
Christian pov I shouldn’t have come back. Not yet. Two more weeks of silence would’ve served her right. But something about the quiet in my hotel suite had begun to itch beneath my skin. The thought of her alone, waiting, maybe learning her place—should’ve satisfied me. It didn’t. So here I was, back in the city sooner than I planned, stepping out of my car and into the marble entrance of the penthouse. The air smelled the same—cold, expensive, sterile. My guards straightened as I passed. Daniel trailed behind me, briefcase in hand, quiet as always. I didn’t say a word to them. My mind was elsewhere. Where is she? I hadn’t called once since I left. She didn’t deserve that kind of consideration. This marriage was a transaction, not a romance. But still... I expected her to behave. I walked through the corridor and pulled off my gloves, pausing at the base of the staircase. “Nana,” I called. Her familiar steps shuffled across the upper landing, and then
Elizabeth POV The second I stepped through the door, the world changed. It was loud, hot, and alive. The lights flashed in purples and blues, cutting through clouds of artificial smoke. People swayed to the heavy beat, bodies packed tight, laughter echoing in pockets through the music. I walked to the bar, ordering a vodka soda. Something light, I told myself. Just enough to loosen up. Just enough to forget. I sipped and scanned the crowd, feeling for the first time in ages like I wasn’t trapped in someone else’s cage. “You look like a fucking goddess,” someone said beside me. I turned to see a tall girl with copper-red curls and glitter dusted across her cheeks. She looked drunk. And beautiful. “I’m Kim,” she added, leaning in. “And this is Tessa and Billie.” She gestured to two other girls, equally gorgeous, all dressed like trouble. “Elizabeth,” I replied. “Well, Elizabeth, you’re officially part of the girl gang for tonight,” Tessa declared, raising her shot
Elizabeth POVIt was almost time.I stood in front of my closet, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and something dangerously close to guilt. My fingers brushed over each hanger until I landed on a black dress—short, tight, with a plunging neckline that screamed trouble. It wasn’t my usual style, but then again, nothing about tonight was usual.I slipped it on, smoothing the fabric down my hips. It hugged my curves in all the right places, clinging like a second skin. I added my favorite red gloss, thick mascara, and winged eyeliner for good measure. Then came the heels, ten inches of confidence in shiny black leather.One last look in the mirror and I froze.Damn.I looked nothing like myself.The girl staring back at me was bold. Sexy. Untouchable. The kind of girl Christian probably expected to see when he came to sign the contract—confident, loud, and sultry. The kind of girl Jessica had always been.Not me.And yet, here I was, playing dress-up in a life that didn’t