Ein Vertrag namens Liebe

Scarlett's POV

The heavy oak doors of the Hart Tower penthouse boardroom slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed like a gunshot.

Silence fell instantly. I felt the weight of four pairs of eyes—cold, calculating, and dangerously beautiful—locking onto me. They looked at me as if I were prey that had dared walk straight into a lion’s den, and for a heartbeat, I felt like one.

I lifted my chin. I refused to let my knees buckle, even though my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I was painfully aware of how out of place I looked; in my simple black dress and scuffed heels, I was surrounded by tailored suits that probably cost more than my entire year’s rent.

I had done my research on them, but seeing them in the flesh was different. At the head of the long glass table sat Lucien Hart, the eldest. At thirty-two, he was the undisputed king of a multibillion-dollar empire. He was ruthless and untouched, a man who reportedly only smiled when someone was about to lose everything. His sharp jaw was clenched, his silver-gray eyes slicing through me with the precision of a scalpel.

To his right lounged Damon Hart, the family’s shadow—the mafia boss. He handled the underground affairs and the security of the Hart name. With his dark hair and a darker smirk, his sharp green eyes tracked my every move. His fingers drummed lazily on the arm of his chair as if this were all merely a private performance for his entertainment. His reputation for breaking both business rivals and women was legendary, and looking at him, I believed every word of it.

Next to him, Kai Hart stared at me with an unnerving intensity. He was the tech genius, the one behind the family’s most dangerous innovations—and the one rumored to have the shortest fuse. Brooding and silent, his stormy blue eyes promised a temper I wasn't sure I could survive.

And finally, leaning back with a deceptively charming smile, was Theo Hart, the youngest. Golden-haired and playful, he looked like every girl’s dream, a Greek god plucked straight from the cover of Forbes. He was notorious for dating women and discarding them the very next day, always seen with the world's prettiest models and influencers. To him, I was probably just another face to be replaced.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me," Lucien said. His voice was low and lethal. He held up the crisp document in his hand—my ticket to this nightmare—their father’s last will and testament. "This is a joke. A sick, twisted joke."

I swallowed hard but kept my voice steady. "I wish it were. Believe me, Mr. Hart, I have zero desire to be here either."

Damon let out a soft, dangerous laugh. "Zero desire? Sweetheart, you just inherited the right to live in our penthouse, work directly under us, and collect a monthly allowance that most people would kill for. All because our dear old dad apparently lost his mind before he died."

Kai’s fingers tightened around the edge of the glass table until his knuckles turned white. "Explain," he demanded, his voice like gravel. "Why the hell would our father tie his entire empire to some... nobody?"

My stomach twisted. I hated this part. I hated that I had no choice but to stand here and bare my ugliest truths to the four men who clearly despised my very existence.

"Because your father saved my life five years ago," I said quietly. "And in return... I made him a promise. A stupid, desperate promise when I was bleeding out on a hospital bed."

The room went deathly still.

Theo’s playful mask slipped for a split second, genuine surprise flashing across his face. "You’re the girl from the accident?"

I nodded once, the memories threatening to choke me. "I was a stripper in one of your clubs, Velvet El. One night went wrong with one of the VIPs. I was near to almost dying from being beaten and assaulted by a client, but your father interfered. He found out I was only doing it to afford my mother's treatment. Richard Hart, God bless his soul, paid for the hospital bills, then the funeral when she died anyway."

I felt the prickle of tears but forced them back. "He said if anything ever happened to him, I was to come here. That I had to... help keep you four from destroying each other."

A bitter smile touched my lips. "Apparently, he believed only an outsider could stop the Hart brothers from tearing the empire apart once he was gone."

Lucien rose slowly from his chair. All six-foot-three of controlled fury, he stalked around the table until he towered over me. He was close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne and feel the heat radiating from his body. It was suffocating.

"Let me make one thing crystal clear, Miss Voss," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "We don’t need a babysitter. We don’t need your pity. And we sure as hell don’t need some broke little charity case coming up with a sob story thinking she can just 'tame' us."

He leaned in, his breath brushing the shell of my ear as he delivered the final blow.

"So pack your pathetic bags and get the fuck out of our tower... before we make your life a living hell."

My pulse roared in my ears, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I met his icy gaze head-on, a spark of defiance igniting in my eyes. I reached into my bag and pulled out my own copy of the document, the legal terms highlighted in unforgiving, bright yellow.

"Too late for that, Mr. Hart," I whispered back, my voice trembling with equal parts fear and fury. "According to the will, if I leave before one full year... or if any of you break the cohabitation agreement... the entire Hart Empire goes to your biggest rival, Victor Lang. Every last share. Every building. Every secret."

I took one step back, just enough to look at all four brothers at once. The shift in the room was instantaneous. The air became heavy, pressurized by the realization of the ultimate trap their father had set.

"So whether you like it or not... you’re stuck with me. And I’m stuck with the four of you."

For the first time that night, none of the Hart brothers had a quick comeback. The silence stretched, thick and electric.

Then Damon’s smirk returned, slower and far more dangerous than before. He stood up, his massive, tattooed frame casting a shadow over the table.

"Well, well, well..." he drawled, his eyes raking over me like I was something he was already imagining breaking. "Looks like the game just got interesting."

He walked toward me, stopping just outside my personal space. "One year, Miss Voss? You think you can survive one year in this penthouse with us? You’re not just living here. You’re working for us. That means you belong to our schedule. Our whims. Our mess."

"I'm aware of the terms," I said, though my hands were shaking behind my back where they couldn't see.

"I don't think you are," Kai interjected, finally standing. He looked at me expressionless. "You're a variable we didn't account for. And in my world, variables that don't fit are deleted."

Theo let out a sharp, barking laugh, though his amber eyes remained cold. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Kai. If she wants to play house, let's play house. I've always wanted a live-in maid with a martyr complex."

Lucien didn't join in. He remained perfectly still, watching me with a gaze that suggested he was already planning ten moves ahead. He was the strategist, the one who moved the pieces. And right now, he was looking at me like a piece that needed to be sacrificed to save the board.

"The penthouse has five suites," Lucien said, his voice regaining its professional, clipped command. "You will stay in the west wing. You will be at the office by seven a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. You will not bring guests. You will not speak to the press. And you will stay out of our way unless summoned."

He stepped closer again, forcing me to look up into his frozen stare.

"You think you're saving this family, Scarlett? You're not. You're just giving us a front-row seat to your collapse. This inheritance won't go off to some charity because we’ll make sure you’re the one who begs to sign the resignation papers within a month."

I felt the weight of their collective gaze, a wall of wealth, power, and genuine malice. I was a girl who had spent the last five years just trying to keep her head above water, and now I had jumped into the deepest part of the ocean with four sharks.

"I've survived worse than you," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Damon laughed, a sound devoid of any real humor. "Doubtful. But I suppose we'll find out soon."

He leaned down, his lips near my cheek, sending a shiver of pure terror through me. "Welcome to the family, Scarlett. Try not to scream too loud when the walls start closing in."

As the four of them filed out of the boardroom, leaving me alone in the glass-walled space, I finally let my breath out. My strength failing the moment I was out of their sight.

I didn't know why I had agreed to this. Now the most successful and handsome men in the city were going to move back into the penthouse, leaving their private apartments to stay together with me for a whole year. It was insane.

I had just stepped into the wolves’ lair. And something told me these particular wolves had no intention of letting their new prey escape unscathed. The year ahead wasn't just a requirement of a will; it was a death sentence. And looking at the skyline of the city they owned, I wasn't sure I would survive it.