WELCOME TO YOUR NEW PRISON… MRS LUTHOR.

The rain poured down heavily, blurring the city lights into a mess of colors. Sarah sat by the window of her room, staring blankly at the streets below. Her fingers trembled around the cup of cold tea she had forgotten to drink. The world outside moved fast, uncaring, while her own had stopped three days ago.

Three days ago, her parents' car had skidded off the bridge into the dark river. Three days ago, she had buried the only people who ever truly loved her. And now, the vultures were circling.

A soft knock came at the door.

"Come in," she said, her voice dry, almost lifeless.

The door opened and her uncle, Richard Blake, walked in. He looked at her like she was a fragile glass, who was about to break. He wore a sharp black suit, no crease out of place, his gold watch flashing under the dull room light.

"Sarah," he said, stepping closer. "We need to talk."

"I know," she whispered. "About the company."

He nodded slowly. "About everything."

Sarah set the cup down and rose from the chair, brushing her damp hair behind her ear. "How bad is it?"

Richard sighed and walked to the small table, spreading out a few documents. His mouth tightened into a thin line. "The creditors want their money. The board is panicking. Investors are pulling out. And... the Luthors are threatening to sue."

Sarah frowned. "The Luthors? But they—"

"They invested millions into your father’s project," Richard cut in sharply. "Now, without him... without the project..." He didn't finish.

Silence filled the room like a thick fog. Sarah’s heart sank lower.

"What can we do?" she asked, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt.

Richard looked at her with a strange expression. Something close to pity. Something close to regret.

"There is... a way."

Sarah stiffened. "What way?"

He hesitated, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to burst in.

"Andrew Luthor."

Sarah’s stomach clenched. She knew the name. Everyone did. Andrew Luthor was a cold steel in a world of smoke and mirrors. He owned half the skyscrapers in the city. He had the power to crush companies, destroy careers, and erase legacies.

"He’s willing to help us," Richard said carefully. "Willing to save the company. Save the family name."

"Why would he?" Sarah whispered. "Why would he help us?"

Richard looked her straight in the eye. "Because he wants something in return."

The world tilted slightly. Sarah gripped the edge of the table.

"What does he want?"

"You," Richard said simply.

The word hung there between them Heavily.

Sarah shook her head slowly. "No. No, there has to be another way. There has to be."

"There isn't," Richard said firmly. "You know your father trusted him once. The Luthor Corporation owns forty percent of the shares. Without Andrew’s support, the company falls. We lose everything. Your father's name gets dragged through the mud. Your mother’s charities disappear. Everything they built... gone."

Sarah’s heart twisted painfully. She backed away, her legs hitting the chair behind her.

"You’re asking me to marry a man I barely know," she said in a broken voice.

Richard stepped closer. His face was hard now, like a stone.

"I’m not asking. I’m telling you. This is the only way."

Sarah stared at him, with disbelief and betrayal mixing in her chest. "You would sell me off like cattle?"

"For the family," he snapped. "For your parents’ legacy. For your survival."

Tears burned in her eyes but she blinked them back. She was a Blake. Blakes did not cry. Not in front of sharks.

"When?" she asked quietly.

"Tonight," Richard said. "Andrew’s lawyer has prepared the contract. All you have to do is sign."

Sarah looked at the documents on the table. The Neat lines,the Cold words and Her freedom, traded away in ink.

"I need a moment," she said.

“But…” Richard hesitated, then nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Sarah sank into the chair. Her mind spin around in her world. She thought of her father’s warm smile, her mother’s gentle hands. She thought of the house they built, the dreams they fought for. Could she let it all collapse because she was afraid?

Minutes passed or maybe hours, because Sarah was not in her right state. When the door opened again, it wasn’t Richard.

It was Andrew.

He filled the doorway, tall and dark in his black suit. His face was sharp, carved in ice. Eyes cold and calculating, like he already owned everything in the room... including her.

Sarah rose slowly to her feet.

"Miss Blake," he said, his voice smooth, almost polite.

"Mr. Luthor," she managed.

He walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps. His presence was suffocating. It wrapped around her, squeezed the air from her lungs.

"I assume your uncle has explained the terms," he said.

She nodded stiffly.

Andrew studied her like a man inspecting a flawed diamond.

"You understand what this marriage is," he said. "It’s a business arrangement. Nothing more."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to stop the trembling.

"I understand," she said.

A flicker of something crossed his face. Not sympathy, not even emotions, Maybe satisfaction or Maybe cruelty.

"Good," he said. He pulled a pen from his jacket and set it on the contract.

"Sign," he said.

Sarah stared at the papers. At the place where her name should be written.

Her hands shook as she picked up the pen. The metal was cold against her skin.

She thought of her parents. Of everything they fought for. Of everything that would be lost if she said no.

Slowly, she pressed the pen down and signed her name.

The ink bled into the paper like blood.

Andrew took the contract, flipped through the pages, then tucked it neatly into his briefcase.

He leaned in close. So close she could see the flecks of gold in his grey eyes.

His breath brushed her ear.

"Welcome to your new prison, Mrs. Luthor," he whispered coldly.