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 It’s been a month and five days since I told Christian to stay away from me. And this time, he actually listened. No shadow lurking in the corners, no sudden visits, no arrogant voice calling me Red when I least expected it. Just silence. I should be relieved. I should be able to breathe again. But instead, I find myself missing him. Missing the chaos, the heat, the way his presence filled every space in my life whether I wanted it or not. And even when I fight it, a part of me wonders how he’s doing. Is he drowning himself in whiskey again? Is he thinking about me? About… us? I forced the thoughts down. I couldn’t let myself drown in that spiral again. So today, I decided to go out. Clear my head. The little bookstore in town had always been my safe place. Quiet. Steady. Somewhere I could hide inside stories that weren’t mine. I asked the café manager for a break, and he didn’t hesitate. Lately, he’s been unusually kind, he raised my pay, cut down my shifts. I k
ELIZABETH POV I had told Christian to leave me alone, but what I didn’t expect was to find him standing on my grandmother’s porch. My chest tightened instantly. Thankfully, Grandma and Hope weren’t home, if they were, this would’ve been a disaster. My grandmother? She would’ve chased him off with a broom. And Hope… God, the thought of him seeing her terrified me. What if the only reason he was here was because of her, not me? “What are you doing here, Christian? Are you stalking me now?” I asked, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his. Because I knew one look at him and my walls might crumble. “Yes,” he said without hesitation, stepping closer. “I’m stalking you. Because I can’t stay away from you.” His honesty slammed my face, leaving me breathless. I lifted a trembling hand between us, creating space that barely existed. “Stop. Don’t come any closer. Don’t make me… don’t make me file a restraining order against you.” The words came out sharp, I didn’t mean the restraining
CHRISTIAN POV The glass hit the counter harder than I meant, amber liquid splashing over my fingers. I didn’t even bother wiping it away. My chest felt like it was caving in, every breath jagged, useless. I downed the whiskey in one swallow. It burned, but nowhere near enough. Nothing ever could. Her tears. Her voice breaking when she told me to go. The way she looked at me like I was the very thing that destroyed her… it was worse than any bullet to the chest. I never begged anyone since I turned twenty, no one. But in that moment, with her tears cutting me open like blades, I would’ve dropped to my knees and begged if it meant undoing the damage I’d caused. The glass was too small for the storm inside me. I tossed it aside and seized the bottle of whiskey, pressing it to my lips and drinking until fire scorched my throat. Still, the pain in my chest refused to fade. Nothing dulled it. Nothing could. God, I wished the ground would split open and swallow me whole. She was
ELIZABETH POV “It was at an event I attended with my father, Jessica, and Josephine,” I admitted slowly. “Go on. Stop giving me pieces of the story,” he pushed, his tone sharp, like my half-answers were testing his patience. I drew in a shaky breath, my eyes dropping to the floor, I couldn’t look at him. “Okay. It was five years ago. A masked event. I saw a stranger in the room, and I ended up sleeping with him. I swear to God, I was stoned. Jessica had slipped something into my drink.” When I finally dared to lift my gaze, the sight of him knocked the air out of my lungs. His face had gone pale—if that was even the right word for it—and emotions flickered so fast in his eyes I couldn’t catch a single one. He staggered back a little, then let out a dark, hollow chuckle. “That night,” he said hoarsely, “you wore a red dress and a gold mask. Red gloss on your lips.” My heart nearly stopped. I nearly lost my mind at the way he recited the details. “How… how did yo
Elizabeth’s POV After what happened yesterday at the event, I dragged myself to the café the next morning. Work was better than sitting at home thinking about everything I couldn’t change. Christian was never going to see me for who I really was, and he’d never understand me. Alex’s words from last night kept circling in my head… or maybe it was the way he’d looked at Hope when he saw her. He knew something. I just didn’t know what. The thought made my stomach twist. I slipped two cups under the coffee machine, watching the dark liquid pour in. Once they filled, I set them on a tray and turned—only to nearly crash right into him. A loud gasp tore out of me. My grip faltered, the tray wobbling, but Christian’s hand shot out and caught it. He set it down firmly on the counter. “Careful,” he said, motioning to the plain white t-shirt stretched across his chest. “I’d hate to have to throw this out.” My chest tightened. What the hell was he doing here? How did he ev
CHRISTIAN POV The sharp clack of the cue ball echoed across the room as it struck a red, sending it rolling neatly into the corner pocket. I straightened, cue stick resting lightly against my palm, eyes fixed on the table though my mind was elsewhere. Playing alone had become a habit lately, it was easier to focus on the rhythm of the game than the silence of the house that used to hold Elizabeth’s chaos. “Where were you last night? You didn’t sleep at home,” Alex’s voice cut into the quiet, sharp and accusing. He sounded less like a friend and more like some clingy ex who couldn’t let go. I chalked the cue lazily, refusing to look at him. “And why should I tell you where I slept? Are you stalking me now?” I couldn’t admit the truth—that I hadn’t been sleeping here at all. That the thought of coming back to Elizabeth’s absence, to the untouched sheets and that hollow silence, felt like punishment. God, I missed her noise. “No, I wasn’t stalking you,” he shot back, irritation