The First Night

The limousine purred smoothly through Manhattan’s glittering streets, its tinted windows shutting out the world. Aria sat stiffly against the leather seat, her fingers knotting together in her lap. The city lights blurred past, but she barely saw them. All she felt was the heavy weight of his gaze.

Ethan Blackwood didn’t bother to hide it. He sat beside her, one arm draped casually along the back of the seat, his tailored suit molding perfectly to his tall frame. His presence was overpowering — too close, too commanding, too consuming. He was the kind of man who could fill an entire room without saying a word. Right now, in the intimate space of the car, he was suffocating.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked at last, his voice low, rich, and edged with amusement. “Cold feet?”

Aria forced herself to meet his eyes. Gray and stormy, they seemed to strip her bare. “I’m not scared,” she said, though her voice trembled despite her best efforts. “I’m just… thinking.”

“About running?” His lips curved slightly. “It would be a shame if you did. I’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to arrange tonight.”

Her stomach twisted. She hadn’t forgotten. The ink on that cursed contract had barely dried. She was his mistress now — for one year, bound to him by her own desperate choice. It was a deal she’d thought she could handle. A deal of survival. But the reality of it was finally sinking in.

This wasn’t a job. This was Ethan Blackwood.

The car slowed, pulling up to the private entrance of a luxury high-rise. The doorman immediately stepped forward, opening the sleek black door with a bow. Ethan exited first, extending a hand back toward her. For a moment, she hesitated. Then she placed her trembling fingers in his.

The moment their skin touched, her breath caught. Heat sparked through her veins, dangerous and unwanted. He closed his hand firmly around hers, leading her inside as though she were already his possession. And maybe she was.

The Penthouse

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Ethan’s penthouse — a space so vast and opulent it didn’t feel real. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the New York skyline, glittering like a sea of stars. Marble floors gleamed, modern art hung on the walls, and a grand piano stood in the corner as if waiting for some tragic symphony to be played.

Aria couldn’t stop staring. She felt out of place, like a fragile bird in a predator’s cage.

Ethan shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto a chair with casual elegance. “Drink?” he asked, already striding toward a crystal decanter of whiskey.

“No, thank you.” Her voice was small in the cavernous room.

He poured himself a glass anyway, swirling the amber liquid as he studied her. “Relax, Aria. This isn’t an execution.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, hugging her arms around herself. “You’re not the one who just signed away her freedom.”

That earned her a sharp, dangerous smile. “Freedom? You call scraping by on minimum wage, worrying about your mother’s next medical bill, freedom?”

The words cut deep, hitting exactly where it hurt. She looked away, anger and shame twisting inside her. “At least it was mine.”

Ethan downed his whiskey, then set the glass aside with deliberate slowness. “And now you’re mine.” He said it not as a threat, but as a fact, unyielding and absolute.

Her heart hammered wildly. She wanted to deny it, to scream at him, but her voice failed her. Because part of her knew he was right.

The Tension Builds

He moved toward her, each step unhurried, predatory. She backed away instinctively, her heels clicking against the marble until her back brushed the cool glass of the window. He didn’t stop until he stood inches away, towering over her, his scent — clean, expensive, intoxicating — surrounding her.

“Ethan…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What do you want from me tonight?”

His hand lifted, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch was deceptively gentle, but his eyes burned with possession. “Everything.”

Her knees weakened. She hated the way her body betrayed her, the way her pulse raced, the way heat coiled low in her belly. She wanted to resist, to fight, but there was no denying the raw chemistry crackling between them. It terrified her.

“I thought this was just business,” she forced out.

He leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Business can be… very pleasurable.”

The First Kiss

Before she could respond, his mouth claimed hers.

The kiss was not soft, not tentative — it was fierce, consuming, demanding. His lips crushed against hers, forcing her surrender, while his hand cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place. A shockwave of sensation ripped through her, leaving her breathless, helpless, drowning.

She should have pushed him away. Instead, her lips parted, betraying her, inviting him deeper. His tongue swept in, taking, tasting, conquering. She whimpered against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as if clinging to the only solid thing in a world suddenly spinning out of control.

When he finally pulled back, her chest heaved, her lips swollen and tingling. He looked down at her with a dark, triumphant expression. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Aria’s face flamed. “You—you can’t just—”

But he silenced her with another searing kiss, leaving her no room to think, only feel.

The Bedroom

At some point — she didn’t even know how — she found herself in his bedroom. The space was just as sleek and imposing as the rest of the penthouse, dominated by a massive bed dressed in silk sheets. She stumbled back as he advanced, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it.

“Take off your dress,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding.

Her breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Her hands shook. “You can’t just—”

He stepped closer, tilting her chin up with one finger. His eyes locked onto hers, steel and fire. “You signed the contract, Aria. You belong to me. But I won’t take what you won’t give. So…” His voice softened slightly, though it was no less intense. “Choose. Do you want to walk out that door? Or do you want to stay and see how good surrender can feel?”

The air thickened with silence. Her heart warred with her mind. Every rational part of her screamed to run. But her body — traitorous, hungry — burned with a need she couldn’t deny.

Slowly, shakily, she reached for the zipper of her dress.

Ethan’s eyes darkened, satisfaction flashing across his face. “Good girl.”