Chapter 5

VERA

“Marry me, Vera Macthorn, and I promise, I’ll bring your enemies to their knees.”

Those words should have sounded insane. Ridiculous. Offensive, even. Any sane woman should have laughed in his face or stood up and walked away.

But Vera didn’t.

What unsettled her the most was not the proposal itself—it was her body’s reaction to it. The way her stomach fluttered. The strange heat that bloomed low in her belly. The slow crawl of chills that traveled up her spine like his voice had reached inside her and touched something she didn’t know existed.

She should have felt angry. Insulted. The independent woman in her screamed, Who does he think he is?

But that voice was drowned out by something far more dangerous.

Excitement.

The power in the way he spoke unsettled her. No begging. No persuasion. Just certainty.. As if he already knew she would consider it. As if her answer mattered—but not enough to shake him.

“I– I don’t understand,” Vera finally said, her voice shaky and unsteady. “What do you mean?”

Her reaction must have looked like annoyance to him, but it wasn’t. Her heart was racing too fast for that. Her thoughts tangled over each other, refusing to make sense.

Orion didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he tilted his chin toward the table.

“Sit and watch, Vera.”

She followed his gaze and noticed his phone lying there, screen facing up. He had pushed it toward her without ceremony. Without explanation.

Her knees weakened as she sat back down, her body trembling—not just from exhaustion, not just from the weight of the day—but from him. From Orion Blackwood and the way his presence filled the space around her.

“What am I looking at?” she asked, lifting the phone but glancing up at him again.

Orion leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His fingers threaded together beneath his chin, veins standing out sharply as his eyes locked onto her face, studying her like she was a puzzle he already knew how to solve.

“Reasons,” he said calmly. “Reasons why you should consider my proposal.”

Her throat tightened.

She looked back at the phone.

There were documents. Scanned pages. Bank statements. Names she recognized, her name—alongside names she had known all her life. Her parents. Her husband. Her best friend. There were emails she didn’t understand, transfers she had never approved, signatures that looked like hers but weren’t.

Her confusion turned into dread.

Then she reached the final image.

A sharp gasp escaped her before she could stop it.

“W–What is this?” she stuttered, her fingers shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone.

Orion didn’t soften.

“These are the plans your family made last year,” he said evenly. “You were already declared dead by your father. No burial, no announcement—but a death certificate was already being processed.”

Her chest constricted painfully.

She flinched—not just at the words, but at how coldly he delivered them. As if he were discussing a business deal.

“But… why?” Vera whispered. Her lips trembled as she struggled to breathe past the lump in her throat. “Why would they do this to me?”

Orion’s answer came without hesitation.

“Because you were an inconvenience, Vera.”

Her head snapped up.

“What?”

The word hit her like a slap. Inconvenience?

What kind of person said something like that so casually?

Orion only shrugged, completely unmoved by her distress.

“Your family needed the wealth your grandfather left you,” he continued. “Wealth I’m certain you didn’t even know existed.”

Her mouth opened, then closed.

“My… my grandfather?” she whispered. “Grandpa Collin left something for me?”

Orion didn’t blink.

“How much?” she asked faintly, dread and disbelief colliding in her chest.

“Seventy billion in assets,” he said, voice steady. “And one hundred million in liquid cash.”

The room spun.

Vera’s legs gave out as she slumped back in her chair, her hands falling limply to her sides. Her mind struggled to process the numbers. They sounded unreal. Impossible.

Oh my God, she breathed.

“Oh, your God is right, Vera,” Orion said dryly.

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. She hadn’t realized she spoke out loud.

“Grandpa Collin… left all of that for me,” she murmured, her voice distant now, hollow with shock.

“Yes,” Orion replied. “And your parents made sure you would never know. Not until you were dead.”

Her heart shattered a little more with every word.

“Your mother tried to kill you more than once,” he went on, his tone still maddeningly calm. “That accident—the one that took her life—it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for you.”

Vera’s breath hitched.

“The day your father went to identify the body,” Orion continued, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip of water, she didn’t fail to notice how he never touched his food.., “he was hopeful. Excited, even. He believed it was you lying there. Unfortunately for him… it was his wife instead.”

Vera stared at him, frozen. Her mind refused to catch up with the words being thrown at her. Every breath felt too shallow, too slow.

“So,” Orion continued calmly, as if he were laying out a strategy meeting, “your father decided the next logical step would be to involve your husband.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress.

“Luckily for him,” Orion went on, “the bastard had been cheating on you long before anyone could properly trace it. He was already halfway out the door.”

Vera swallowed hard, her throat burning.

“Of course, your husband didn’t hesitate,” Orion said. “He accepted the deal immediately. He hated you, Vera. Resented you. Wanted you gone.”

The words landed one after another, each one heavier than the last.

“And it was almost poetic,” Orion added coolly, “how the universe seemed determined to favor them. Because on the very day they planned to finish you off… you were kidnapped.”

Her breath left her in a shaky exhale.

“They panicked at first,” he continued. “But panic turned into opportunity. They waited. Watched. Calculated. When months passed with no trace of you, they finally acted.”

“They played the part of a grieving family for a few months—just enough to look convincing,” Orion said. “Then they reported you dead.”

He paused, letting the silence settle.

“To the world, Vera Macthorn died quietly,” he finished. “And the people who were meant to protect you were the ones who signed your name into the grave.”

Orion slid a handkerchief across the table toward her.

Vera hesitated before taking it. Her fingers trembled as she collected the soft fabric, surprised by how warm it felt against her cold hands. Only then did she realize she was crying. Silent tears had already slipped free. She dabbed at her cheeks, her breath uneven.

“I just don’t understand…” she muttered weakly, sniffing. “Why would they do that to me? I didn’t even care about the money. I would have shared it with them. I would have given them everything.”

“Would you?” Orion asked quietly.

She snapped her gaze up to him, eyes blazing despite the tears. “Of course I would. My family was more important to me than money.” Her voice sharpened. “I don’t know why you’d even ask that.”

Orion only shrugged.

“And that,” he said tersely, “is the difference between you and them, Vera. You love deeply. You care without conditions. You have a heart of gold.” His gaze hardened. “They don’t.”

She stilled.

“You turning up alive ruins everything for them,” he continued. “Their plans, their wealth, their control. And if you aren’t careful—” his voice dropped, lethal in its calm, “—you will die. Properly this time.”

She flinched.

Her grip tightened around the handkerchief as something dark stirred inside her. The sorrow faded, giving way to heat. Anger. A sharp, burning need for justice—no, for vengeance.

“Why are you telling me all this?” she demanded. “What do you get out of it?”

Orion’s lips curved into a slow smirk. It made him look even more dangerous than before, and her breath caught despite herself.

“Because,” he murmured, “I have some revenge of my own to plot.”

Her brows knit together. “You have a family that wants you dead too?”

A faint shake of his head.

“No,” he said quietly. His eyes dipped for the briefest moment before returning to hers. “Anything that happens to me… happens by my own hand.”

The words sent a strange chill through her.

“I need you to play a role, Vera,” Orion continued smoothly. “A devoted wife.” He leaned back. “My company demands it. The board. The investors. The world doesn’t trust a man like me unless there’s a woman at his side. A single bachelor is a liability.”

He grinned, sharp and unapologetic.

The sight almost knocked the air from her lungs. He was devastatingly handsome—effortlessly so—and she hated that her body noticed even now.

“So consider this a contract,” he went on, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a neatly folded document. He placed it in front of her. “My lawyer drafted the terms already. Everything you need to know about this arrangement is there.”

Vera leaned forward, her eyes skimming the pages. The clauses were precise. Calculated. Solid.

“How did you know I’d agree?” she asked quietly.

“I didn’t,” Orion replied.

She frowned, looking up.

“I simply relied on one thing,” he said. “The human instinct to retaliate. The need to balance the scales.” His gaze locked onto hers. “You might still love your family, Vera—but even you can’t ignore the evil they unleashed on you.”

Silence stretched between them.

“You know it,” he added. “And so do I. I can help you.” His voice softened, just barely. “That’s all this is. But it can never be more than that.”

“More than what?” she asked.

“A contract,” Orion said firmly. “There will be no love. No romance. No illusions.” He leaned closer. “I’ll respect you, and I’ll honor our agreement. I expect the same in return. But you cannot demand more from me.”

His eyes didn’t waver.

“Because I won’t give it.”

Vera was stunned by his words—by the certainty with which he delivered them. It wasn’t just a condition; it was a boundary carved in stone. His disdain for the very idea of love and romance was unmistakable, woven into every syllable he spoke.

“Once you’re done going over the contract, meet me outside,” Orion said, already rising to his feet as he retrieved his phone. “I have some calls to make.”

He gave her a brief, curt nod—nothing more—and then he was gone.

The space he left behind felt enormous.

Vera remained seated, the papers heavy in her hands, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t quite untangle. Fear. Anger. Confusion. And beneath it all, something far more dangerous—temptation.

The weight of his offer pressed down on her, suffocating and seductive all at once.

What more did she have to lose, Vera thought.

She had already lost everything. Her family had made sure of that. Her home, her marriage, her place in the world—gone, stripped away without mercy. There was nothing left to protect, nothing left to cling to.

But this… this was a beginning.

A fresh start carved out of bitterness and resolve. A chance to stand back on her feet. A chance to give back every ounce of wickedness that had been poured into her life. And she would. That, she swore, on her mother’s grave.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen, the weight of the decision pressing hard against her chest. One deep breath. Then another.

With a shaky hand, Vera signed her name.

She had just signed her life away.

Here goes nothing, Vera.