LOVE UNDER CONTRACT

INTRO

The pen hovered over the contract, and the longer Cara stared at it, the more it felt like a noose over her neck . Her chest tightened. If she signed, her brother had a chance. If she didn’t then she would lose him.

Across the table, Damien Blackwood leaned back in his chair, calm and unreadable, like he already knew what she was going to do. To him, this was just business But to her, it was everything; her pride, her dignity and her life.

Her fingers shook as she gripped the pen tightly. The only sound in the room was the steady tick of the clock on the wall, reminding her how little time she had left.

“I just need to know you will fulfill your end of the bargain,” she whispered.

Damien’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes stayed cold. “I don’t play games, Cara. The only question is " Are you willing to pay the price?”

CHAPTER 1

Damien Blackwood was used to getting anything he wanted. Money made it easy. It opened doors to the best hotels, the hottest clubs, and the most beautiful women. Tonight was no different.

A rooftop bar glittered above Manhattan, the city lights twinkling like a beach during sunrise. Beats of music, glasses clinking, and the night smelling of the most exclusive champagne and expensive perfume. Damien leaned back in his chair, his smile lazy and sure.

“Mr. Blackwood, your table is ready,” a young hostess said, her voice nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing when his eyes met hers.

Damien gave her his most charming smile, brushing a hand lightly against her back as she led him through the crowd. Two models were already waiting at the corner table, waving him over with excited giggles. Damien slid between them, throwing an arm casually around one. He was in his element here.

The drinks kept coming. They laughed at his jokes, and he let their attention wash over him like a warm wave. By midnight, he’d promised a trip to Paris to one and a diamond necklace to the other. He wouldn’t remember their names tomorrow, but that had never bothered him as long as they were available to warm his bed. Women came and went. 

And Damien liked it that way. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

It was almost dawn when his private phone buzzed on the bedside table. Damien groaned, rubbing his eyes. Very few people had this number.

“Mr. Blackwood?” The voice on the other end was shaky. It was his grandfather’s butler. “Your grandfather collapsed. They’ve taken him to St. Luke’s Hospital.”

Damien sat up, suddenly wide awake. “Is he....”

“He’s alive. For now.”

The line went dead.

Hospitals always felt cold. Damien hated the smell; clean, sharp, too bright. He had always had an aversion to hospitals after the death of his parents. He walked fast down the corridor, ignoring the way nurses turned their heads when they recognized him.

Harold, his grandfather’s oldest advisor, was waiting outside the ICU. His face was pale, his hands twisting together. “He’s stable,” Harold said quickly. “The doctors said it was a mild heart attack, but…” He trailed off, glancing toward the door.

Damien didn’t wait. He pushed inside.

His grandfather lay in the bed, smaller than Damien remembered, swallowed by the white sheets and wires. Machines beeped steadily, each sound bringing pain to Damien. For a moment, Damien barely recognized him. He wasn’t the strong man who had raised him. He was old and looked so fragile.

“Grandfather,” Damien said quietly.

The old man’s eyes opened, sharp even now. “So,” he rasped, “you decided to show up. I thought you’d be too busy chasing women and making headlines.”

The words stung more than Damien expected. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Mm.” His grandfather shifted, wincing. “Sit down. I don’t have the strength to yell at you.”

Damien dragged a chair close, suddenly feeling like a boy again, waiting for a lecture he couldn’t escape.

“You’ve wasted thirty years,” his grandfather said, voice rough but steady. “Cars. Parties. Women. I let it go because I thought time would teach you. But time...” His hand shook slightly on the blanket. “Time is running out for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Damien muttered, eyes on the floor. He wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want to think of a world without the man who had been his only real family.

“Listen to me.” His grandfather’s tone hardened. “You want the company? You want what your parents would have had if they lived and hadn't died in that place crash? Then prove you’re ready. Show me you can take responsibility.”

Damien looked up. “I have. The board knows I can handle deals. I’ve doubled profits.....”

“Not the company,” his grandfather snapped, eyes blazing. “A family. You’ll marry. You’ll settle down before I die. Only then will I hand you Blackwood Industries. Not before.”

The words hit Damien like a punch. He stared, certain he had misheard. “You.... You’re saying I have to get married? Or you’ll give the company to someone else?”

“I’m saying you need to grow up,” the old man shot back, coughing until the monitor beeped faster. “All your money means nothing if you die alone. I want to see a wife at your side before I go. I want to be able to face your parents when I meet them on the other side. I don't mind selling the company and giving all the money to charity if you don't get married before the end of this year.”

"But.... That's barely four months away."

Damien ran a hand over his face. Marriage. Love. The words felt like chains. He thought of the women in his life; glamorous, good diggers who were just with him for the money. Not one would want to sit in this room with him now. Not one would stand beside him when it mattered.

“You can’t expect me to just… fall in love on demand,” Damien said bitterly.

His grandfather gave a weak, stubborn smile. “Make it work however you want. But if I die and you’re still alone, you get nothing. No company. No empire. Nothing.”

Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Damien leaned back in his chair, the weight of the words pressing down on him. For the first time in years, he felt trapped and cornered.

This time, money couldn’t buy him a way out.