The Proposition

Aria’s apartment felt smaller than ever that night. The modest space, which had always been a haven from the chaos of the city, now felt suffocating. Her hands shook as she paced the length of the living room, replaying the encounter with Ethan Blackwood over and over.

One year. Mistress. Paid. No love.

Her mind screamed impossible, yet her heart… her body… betrayed her, betraying her every attempt at rational thought.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. A text from her mother:

"How’s work? Everything okay?"

Aria’s chest tightened. How could she possibly explain this? That she had agreed—agreed—to become the mistress of New York’s most feared billionaire?

She dropped onto her couch and buried her face in her hands. What had she just done?

The next day, Aria found herself standing in front of the glass-and-steel monolith that was Blackwood Enterprises. The lobby was sleek, modern, intimidating. A polished receptionist glanced up as she entered.

“Ms. Morgan?” the receptionist asked, her tone polite but guarded.

“Yes,” Aria replied, clutching her bag like a lifeline.

“You’re expected. Mr. Blackwood will see you in his office.”

Aria nodded, her stomach twisting. She had never stepped into a skyscraper like this before. Everything smelled of leather, polished wood, and subtle power — the scent of wealth and control.

A secretary led her to the elevator, which ascended silently, and Aria’s mind raced. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I even agreed to meet him again.

The doors slid open to reveal a panoramic office, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. And there he was. Ethan Blackwood. Sitting behind an impossibly large desk, his fingers steepled. He didn’t rise. He simply watched her with that piercing gaze that made her feel naked, vulnerable, yet strangely alive.

“Have a seat,” he said, his voice low, commanding.

Aria perched on the edge of the chair, unsure of how to behave. She felt like she was on trial — and maybe she was.

Ethan leaned back, eyes never leaving hers. “Let’s discuss terms.”

“Terms?” she asked cautiously, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Yes. The rules of our… arrangement.” He unfolded a sleek leather folder and placed it on the desk. Aria’s pulse quickened.

She reached for it, her fingers brushing the smooth surface. Inside were pages detailing everything: the contract, payment terms, expectations, boundaries, and consequences.

“This is… very formal,” she whispered, scanning the first few paragraphs.

“It is a contract,” Ethan replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Business is always formal. We are professionals. You will be compensated handsomely, and I will receive what I desire. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Aria swallowed hard. She had read about billionaires, about power plays, but this… this was beyond anything she had imagined.

“And the… rules?” she asked.

“Obedience,” he said simply. “Discretion. Pleasure. You will be available when I request it. Outside of that… your life is yours. But you follow the rules. You enjoy the privileges. Or… you don’t.”

Aria’s cheeks burned. She wanted to run. She wanted to argue. She wanted to throw the contract across the room and walk away. But something — a mixture of fear, fascination, and undeniable desire — kept her rooted to the spot.

“How much… how much money?” she asked finally, voice trembling.

Ethan’s gaze hardened. “Enough to clear your mother’s debts. Enough to give you security for a year. That is all you need to know.”

Aria’s throat tightened. That was… tempting. Ridiculously tempting. But this wasn’t just about money, was it? Her pulse raced, her mind screaming at her to leave, yet every fiber of her body was drawn to him.

“And… if I refuse?” she asked softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t answer.

He stood, walking slowly toward her. Every step made her heart race. He stopped just a few feet away, his presence overwhelming.

“Refuse,” he said, “and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” His tone left no room for argument. “Refuse, and your mother’s debts remain. Refuse, and your life doesn’t improve. Refuse, and you’ll regret it.”

Aria’s hands trembled. Her rational mind screamed walk away, but the weight of responsibility pressed down on her. She had no choice — not really.

“Ethan…” she began, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” His eyes bore into hers, intense and demanding.

“I… I can’t say yes… not yet. I need time to think.”

He studied her, expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached into his desk and pulled out a pen. He slid it toward her.

“Time,” he said, voice calm, deadly serious, “is a luxury you do not have. You have until tonight. Sign, or don’t. But know this: if you walk away, opportunities like this… do not come twice.”

Aria looked at the pen, at the contract, at the man who radiated power and danger. Every rational instinct screamed to leave. Every emotional instinct screamed to stay.

And then, in the back of her mind, she saw her mother’s worried face, the mounting hospital bills, the eviction notices she had shoved aside.

Her hand shook as she reached for the pen.

Ethan’s gaze never wavered. It was as if he could see her hesitation, her fear, her desire.

“You’re making a choice,” he said softly, yet the steel in his tone cut through her like a blade.

Aria closed her eyes. One year. That was all. One year to survive, to earn, to protect her mother. One year… to resist the magnetic pull of a man who could destroy or consume her entirely.

With a shaky breath, she signed.

Ethan took the contract, his smirk widening. “Good. You’ll find the rules are simple. Follow them, and life will be… pleasurable. Test them, and you’ll regret it. Shall we begin?”

Aria’s heart pounded. The air between them crackled. Desire and fear intertwined in a way that left her breathless.

“Begin…?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes,” he said, leaning closer, his gaze dark and intense. “Tonight. The first night of your… arrangement.”

Aria swallowed hard. She had no idea what she had just agreed to — only that nothing would ever be the same again.

That night, when Ethan escorted her to his private penthouse, the tension was unbearable. Every glance, every brush of his hand, every word he spoke was designed to dominate, to tease, to awaken a desire she barely understood.

The penthouse was luxurious, every surface gleaming, every room designed for comfort and control. And Ethan… he was like a predator in his element, commanding the space and her attention effortlessly.

“Undress,” he said, voice low and commanding, a smoldering heat underneath.

Aria’s pulse raced. Her body reacted before her mind could protest. She did as instructed, her hands trembling, her cheeks flushed. The moment she was bare before him, the intensity in his gaze made her feel exposed, vulnerable… and oddly exhilarated.

Ethan circled her, inspecting her as if she were a masterpiece, his eyes roaming with a mixture of control, fascination, and desire.

“You belong to me for a year,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “Not just your body, not just your time… your attention. Everything.”

“Yes…” she whispered, almost against her will.

“Good.” He reached for her, and for the first time, the electric touch of his hands ignited a fire she didn’t know existed.

That night, she realized two things:

This contract would test her limits in ways she never imagined.

She was dangerously, undeniably… drawn to him.

And neither of them knew how much of their hearts would be claimed in the process.