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The Contract Agreement.
Last Updated:
2025-06-09 15:38:09Chapter 3:
Alina's pov
I entered the imposing glass structure that exuded wealth and power. It was icy, spotless and costly in every way. Blake was someone who commanded attention in every way, he was a no nonsense person and his family was said to be the richest, so I wasn't surprised at how beautiful the place looked like.
But like a second skin I carried all three inside of me and it was the betrayal that hurt more than anything.
“Mr. Blake is expecting you.” The receptionist said without raising her head.
She pointed to a modern private elevator. I stepped in and nodded silently. I hardly recognized the woman who reflected back at me through the elevator doors.
I looked taller and sharper with my bold red lips, black fitted dress and heels. But the truth was revealed by my eyes which were still burning with pain and were worn out and haunted. This is what I came back to after being away for two years.
Lies, betrayal, heartache. My sister and my husband sharing a bed. I knew that this might be going on for a long time.
And the video, I had traced who had stupidly sent it to me.
It was Camille.
She sent it to me to spite me and make me cry but she didn't expect what she saw that evening.
She was expecting me to cry, to beg her to leave my husband.
I clicked my tongue and shook my head.
The elevator revealed an enormous office that resembled the interior of a high-end penthouse.
The city skyline was visible through floor-to-ceiling windows and the interior was entirely made of steel, leather or glass. Despite my fear I didn't bat an eye or try to look amazed at the standard of the office.
Dante Blake turned slightly when I entered, poured himself a drink as if he had it all the time in the world , he was standing by the bar. His eyes followed me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve and a cute smile came on his lips.
“You came,” he said. His voice was deep, serene and slightly menacing.
“You asked that I do so.”
He smiled.
“No. You wanted to . Something is wrong.”
I crossed my arms as I stepped closer.
“I’m not here to play games.”
“ Naturally you did. You simply do not want to acknowledge it.”
He approached me and gave me a glass of an expensive amber drink. I didn't drink it. He sank into a leather armchair across from me.
“ You want your inheritance back.” He said.
“And I want to destroy your ex-husband. We can support one another.”
After a moment of hesitation I sat down. “Why do you want to destroy him?”
Dante twirled his drink.
“My business with Barry is not yet resolved. Years ago his father tried to undermine mine. After losing everything, we gradually rebuilt everything, it was hard. I want a little justice now.”
You are the perfect key..”
I gulped. I felt like I was giving my soul to the devil but I had no other option after being humiliated in the most terrible way by Barry and Camille.
My name and a provision in my grandfather's will were all that remained of me.
“You mentioned having a strategy.”
“Yes,” he said, removing a black folder and setting it on the table made of glass. “We are married. Six months, general public, loud, strategic. The board will release your inheritance, your image will glow up and everyone will think we're in love.”
I looked at the folder then back at him.
“ And what do you get?”
His gaze was fixed on mine as he leaned forward.
“Mastery, media coverage. Barry would be humiliated. My brand is enhanced by my lovely wife.”
“And if I fall in love with you?” I asked. His eyebrows went up and he grinned. “Then that would be really bad since I am not a lover.”
I opened the folder.
It was a straightforward and harsh contract. The length of the marriage: six months.
It is necessary to appear in public.
Don't expect romance unless you both agree.
After that, the divorce would be quietly filed.
I silently turned the pages. It sounded like a show. A lie
And though, an opportunity to regain my authority.
“ I want to add a clause,” I announced as I raised my head.
“I still keep my inheritance if I receive it before the six-month period is up. No restrictions.”
He gave a small nod
“Alright. Done.”
He gave me a pen.
My hand lingered over the pen. I still had the option to leave. I could start over on my own. But then I imagined Camille smiling, the ruthless eyes of Barry and the video, the betrayal.
I put my signature on it. Dante looked at me the whole time before leaning back as if he was content.
“Welcome on board Mrs Blake.”
His eyes met mine.
“You shouldn't call me that yet.”
He got up and retrieved a black velvet box from a drawer. The gorgeous diamond ring inside was broken by the light.
“This was my mother's,” he declared. “She wore this ring like it was her crown despite the fact that she hated my father.”
It was in my hand. I didn't realize it was heavier, cold and sharp.
He went on .
“Let's carry on the tradition.”
It was placed on my finger. It fit flawlessly. “Tomorrow we will declare the engagement. Take pictures first thing in the morning.
I will arrange for someone to come get you.”
I stood up . My heels made a warning click sound as they touched the ground. “Okay. Remember that this is business.”
Dante smiled again.
“Obviously. But keep in mind that business can get messy particularly when emotions are involved.”
I didn't say anything, with each step becoming more difficult I turned and left his office. I had moved on from being Barry's broken ex-wife. I was going to be Dante Blake's wife even if it was just in writing. Let the war begin .
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The glow of my phone lit the dark room, pale blue against trembling hands. My breath stuck somewhere between my chest and throat as I stared at the words.You can hide behind him all you want, Alina. But in the end, you’ll crawl back. You always do.And beneath it, the second message, colder, sharper.Check the window.The air left my lungs in a rush. My fingers almost dropped the phone, the weight of those words heavier than the device itself. He was here. Watching. Maybe close enough to see my every twitch.My body locked. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. It felt like if I so much as breathed too loudly, I’d give him the satisfaction of my panic.“Alina?” Dante’s voice sliced through the silence. Low. Alert. Awake in an instant, like he’d never really been asleep.I turned slowly, the phone still clutched in my hand, glowing like a secret I didn’t want to hold. He was already on his feet, eyes sharp, body coiled in that way he had when danger brushed the edges of the room.“What is it?”I c
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The pounding on the door wasn’t Barry’s. I knew that much the second I heard it—too hurried, too frantic, too… desperate. Still, my body reacted the same way it always did: knees pulling tight to my chest, breath caught in my throat, waiting for the worst. Dante moved before I could process anything, stepping toward the door, shoulders tense like a coiled spring.“Stay here,” he repeated, voice low, sharp with command.I wanted to argue, but the words tangled. My tongue felt thick, heavy, like speaking would betray the fragile stillness holding me together. So I nodded, pressing myself into the corner of the couch.The knock came again, louder. “Dante! Please—it’s urgent. It’s about Barry!”The name hit me like a whip. I flinched. Whoever it was, they knew him. That meant danger, no matter what words they wrapped it in.Dante unlocked the door with careful precision, opening it only a crack. His body filled the gap, blocking my view.“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.The
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The sound of my name through the door hollowed me out. My body went rigid, my skin buzzing with cold. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I could only hear him—Barry—his voice thick with possession, curling around me like chains I thought I’d broken.Dante’s shoulders squared. His hand gripped the edge of the doorframe, knuckles white. He didn’t open it. “You’re not welcome here,” he called, voice steady as stone.A chuckle slid through the wood. “Funny. I don’t remember asking your permission.”My stomach lurched. It was him. No doubt, no mistake. The years I’d spent memorizing that sound—a serpent wearing human skin—came roaring back. I gripped the edge of the table, nails biting into the wood.“Alina.” His voice softened now, coaxing, dangerous in its familiarity. “Sweetheart, I know you can hear me. You’re scared, aren’t you? Don’t be. Just open the door and come home.”My throat closed. The old reflex flared—I almost rose, almost obeyed, almost went back to the role he’d carved
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The silence after his phone buzzed felt like a scream. I sat frozen on the couch, staring at Dante as if I could pull the truth from his eyes. He avoided my gaze, thumb tracing the seam of his jeans. The man who always met me head-on was suddenly looking anywhere but me.“It was him,” I said again, softer this time, as if whispering might make it less true. My chest squeezed, breath shallow. I hated how quickly my body remembered the old fear.Dante’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t confirm. He didn’t have to. The way his shoulders tensed was answer enough. The air between us shifted, sharp and heavy. I wanted to demand answers, to claw the phone from his hand, but part of me was too afraid to hear the words. If Barry knew where we were, if he was already circling…My stomach turned.“Alina.” Dante’s voice was low, careful. “Don’t spiral. Not yet.”I shot him a look. “Not yet? That sounds like a warning, Dante.”“It’s a precaution,” he corrected, finally meeting my eyes. His were steady
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The sunlight had already found us by the time I rolled out of bed. It streamed through Dante’s thin curtains in wide golden slants, spilling across the floor and warming my bare feet as I padded toward the small kitchen. The townhouse was quiet - for someone like me, who was used to noise being a threat. But here, silence didn’t feel like a cage. I found Dante half-awake at the counter, fussing with the coffee maker like it had offended him. His dark hair was still mussed, his T-shirt wrinkled, and yet somehow he looked unfairly good.“Morning, menace,” he said when he noticed me, voice low with sleep. “Coffee’s taking its sweet time.”I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “That’s because you’re glaring at it. Machines don’t like intimidation.”“Good thing you do,” he shot back, smirking.I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at my lips. These little exchanges felt like air after being underwater. The kettle clicked, and he poured water into two mismatched m
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Alina’s POVThe morning light spilled through the curtains like liquid gold, brushing against my skin as though it wanted to wake me gently. I blinked, stretching out beneath the covers, and found Dante watching me.That man.My heart still tripped over itself every time I caught him looking at me like that—like I was something rare, something worth holding onto. His hair was a little messy, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his eyes carrying that mix of danger and devotion that made me weak in places I’d never admit out loud.“You’re staring,” I whispered, my voice thick with sleep.“Am I not allowed to?” he asked, his mouth curving into that half-smile that ruined me. “I woke up next to the most beautiful woman alive. What else should I do—check my emails?”I groaned and shoved at his chest. “Smooth, Dante. Very smooth. You do realize flattery this early in the morning is suspicious?”He caught my hand before it landed and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, slow and deliberate. “Suspicious
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