Married to the Cold Billionaire

The last person Aurora Lane ever wanted to see again was standing in front of her, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, oozing power and arrogance.

Damian Blackwell.

"You look surprised to see me, Aurora," he said, his voice as smooth and cold as glass.

"I am," she shot back, crossing her arms to hide the way her hands trembled. "I didn't know loan sharks wore thousand-dollar suits."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Still sharp-tongued, I see. But let's not pretend you didn't come here for help."

Her cheeks burned. She hated that he was right.

"My father’s debt—" she began, but Damian cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I'll take care of it," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair like a king granting mercy. "But everything has a price, Aurora."

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of price?"

He stood, walking slowly toward her. His gaze pinned her in place, dark and unreadable.

"Marry me," he said simply.

Aurora blinked, thinking she misheard him. "Excuse me?"

"Marry me," Damian repeated. "One year. You play the perfect wife, help me secure a business merger that requires me to appear... settled. In exchange, your father’s debt disappears."

Aurora's heart pounded. "Why me?"

His eyes glinted dangerously. "Because you hate me, and I hate you. No messy feelings to get in the way."

She swallowed hard. "And if I say no?"

Damian’s smile turned cold. "Then your father goes to prison. And you lose everything."

Aurora’s world spun.

"Think carefully, Aurora. One year. One contract. And when it’s over, we walk away. Or..." His gaze softened slightly, just for a second, betraying a flicker of something deeper. "...Maybe not."

She hated him. But she had no choice.

"Fine," she whispered. "I’ll marry you."

Damian stepped closer, his hand tilting her chin up. "Good girl," he murmured, sending shivers down her spine.

"But don't think for a second," she added through gritted teeth, "that I'll ever fall in love with you."

Damian’s smirk deepened. "Challenge accepted."

He held her gaze for a moment longer, as though he was reading every thought that flickered behind her angry eyes.

"Good," Damian finally said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because love is the last thing I’m offering."

Aurora’s heart squeezed painfully at his words, though she told herself she didn’t care. She couldn't care.

"This isn't a game, Damian," she hissed. "You're playing with people’s lives."

He stepped closer, invading her space, his cologne wrapping around her like a trap. "Life has always been a game, Aurora. You just never learned how to win."

She glared at him, willing her knees not to shake. "And marrying you is what? My consolation prize?"

His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes remained cold, hard. "No. It's your only option."

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

Finally, Aurora exhaled shakily. "Fine. But I have conditions."

Damian arched a brow, amused. "Do you now?"

She lifted her chin defiantly. "Yes. This marriage stays on paper. No... expectations. No touching."

For a moment, something dark and unreadable flashed in his gaze before his smirk returned, sharper than ever.

"You're in no position to make demands, sweetheart."

"I’m not your sweetheart."

His eyes gleamed with amusement and something far more dangerous. "We'll see."

Aurora's stomach twisted, but she refused to let him see her fear. "When do we start?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

Damian leaned in close, so close she could feel his breath against her ear. "We already have."

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the charged moment. One of Damian's assistants peeked in, holding a stack of documents.

"The contract, Mr. Blackwell."

"Perfect timing," Damian said smoothly, straightening and turning away from Aurora like she was already a done deal.

Aurora's pulse raced as she watched him take the papers and flick through them with practiced ease.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Ready to sign away a year of your life, Aurora?"

She swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists.

"I’m ready," she lied.

Damian walked back over to her, holding out a pen. "Welcome to my world, Mrs. Blackwell-to-be."

As Aurora took the pen, her fingers brushed against his — a spark of heat she instantly pulled away from, cursing herself for reacting.

She signed with a flourish, sealing her fate.

When she looked up, Damian was watching her with that same dangerous smirk, as if he already knew every thought in her head.

"Congratulations, Aurora," he murmured. "You're mine now."

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing.

"We’ll see about that."

Damian chuckled darkly. "Oh, we will."

And as she walked out of his office, head held high, Aurora knew her life would never be the same again.

But what she didn’t know yet... was that neither would his.