The Deal

I looked at him, confused, honestly not even sure what he was talking about, and his eyes… uh… there was raw desire burning there.  

Then he said it, so calmly it made the room tilt a little.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss Bella.”

My breath caught immediately, like the air between us suddenly got heavy, thick, charged with something dangerous I wasn’t ready for.

“I want a legitimate heir,” he continued, his tone calm. “One that is mine, without question. For that, I’ll need a wife. Become that for me, and I’ll grant you whatever you desire in return. Revenge, protection, power. It’s all within my reach, and I can place it in your hands.”

I just stared at him, stunned, my lips parting but no actual words coming out, not even a sound.

His gaze didn’t move, didn’t blink.

“We’ll stay married for three years. Nothing more. Once the contract ends, you’ll walk away with everything you ever wanted except me.”

I stared at him again, still unsure how to respond to what he just said.

“What?”

“I’m saying that I want you to become mine publicly.”

He extended a hand.

The old me would have hesitated, the innocent girl who believed love and building relationships was very important. But she died the night Anna smiled over my handcuffs. I still didn’t know nor understand his motives, but I placed my hand in his.

“Deal then,” I whispered, my hand still trembling in his.

Jesse’s grip was steady and warm. 

His expression remained unreadable, his eyes pinning me in place.

“The contract will be ready for you to sign tomorrow morning.”

My chest tightened. A marriage contract. An heir. Three years. It all sounded so surreal, like some twisted fairytale.

“So…” I began cautiously. “Where do I stay for the night?”

He arched an eyebrow like the question actually amused him.

“With me, of course.”

I froze, and my cheeks turned very red.

Jesse watched me carefully, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

“I won’t do anything to you,” he said quietly, like he could feel my fear. “Not tonight. And not unless you want me to.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“But,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, darker, “on our wedding night… you’ll have to play your part fully as my wife. But of course, I don’t mind taking interest now.”

My heart stuttered so hard I felt he could hear it. I agreed to this, didn’t I? I shook his hand and sealed the deal. Power in exchange for my name. My body.

Still, my face flushed even more, heat rushing through my cheeks so fast it made me dizzy.

His wife. He really wanted me to become his wife.

I glanced down, shame prickling hot beneath my skin. What type of man was he to want a woman like me?

With body fat in all the wrong places, stretchmarks and a face still dotted with stubborn blemishes and old scars. I wondered how someone like Jesse Black could look at me and still desire me.

When he could have anyone. Any model. Any strikingly flawless, perfect beauty.

I shook my head slightly, trying to knock the thoughts loose, but they stuck. 

“Why me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

Jesse stepped closer, and I could feel the heavy pull of his presence, slow and deliberate. His hand lifted, and for a terrifying second, I thought he would touch me, maybe brush my cheek, test the boundaries of the deal we just made.

But he didn’t.

“Just because I want it to be you,” he said, his voice low.

His words caught me off guard.

My breath hitched. I stared at him, stunned, the weight of his confession hanging thick between us.

My throat felt tight.

I looked away, retreating towards the bed, my steps slow and uncertain.

Jesse didn’t follow immediately. He stayed there, rooted to the spot, his gaze burning into my back like a flame I could feel but couldn’t escape.

Then I heard him move.

The soft shuffle of his footsteps, deliberate, steady, closing the distance between us.

I felt his hand graze my shoulder tentatively before it slid gently down my arm. I turned slightly, and that was when I saw his eyes.

Dark. Hungry. But something else too. There was restraint there.

“I shouldn’t say these things to you right now,” he muttered, voice rough. “I know it’s wrong timing… but…”

His fingers found my waist, and my breath caught again. He was so close I could smell him, fresh, clean, dangerous.

Our eyes locked.

And for one suspended moment, I genuinely thought he was going to kiss me.

His hand cradled the side of my face, and his thumb brushed just beneath my jaw.

“Bella, if you look at me like that again,” he whispered, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

My heart raced then, faster, louder, and I fearlessly responded, “Then don’t stop yourself.”