A deal sealed in desperation. A marriage bound by secrets. A heart caught between danger and desire. When Isla Monroe agrees to marry a man whose name strikes fear and fascination in equal measure, she steps into a world where power rules, silence conceals, and love is the most dangerous game of all. He’s cold, unreadable, and devastatingly magnetic. She’s fragile, desperate, and holding onto her last thread of hope. What begins as a contract quickly unravels into something far more complicated…. where tension simmers, pasts collide, and every touch feels like a trap. But in a house full of shadows, the greatest mystery isn’t him… It’s why he chose her. And when secrets start to surface, Isla must ask herself the question no one dares to answer. What’s the real price of wearing his ring?
View MoreI didn’t expect the world to crumble in a single afternoon.
One moment, I was hoping for a miracle. The next, I was holding a medical report with a death sentence wrapped in a six-figure invoice. “Your mother needs immediate surgery, Miss Monroe,” the doctor had said. “If it’s not done within the next seventy-two hours, she may not survive.” He said it like he wasn’t talking about someone’s life. Like he wasn’t talking about the only person I had left in this world. When I walked out of that office, it felt like my legs weren’t mine anymore. My fingers clutched the hospital file so tightly, my nails dug into the plastic cover. I didn’t even notice when I stepped into the rain. I was numb. Cold. Lost. $500,000. That’s what it would take to save her. Five hundred thousand dollars for the surgery and the post-operative care. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. It was more than my life’s earnings. More than I’d ever seen in one place. And I had no one. No backup. No plan B. I stumbled to a bench beneath the hospital canopy and sat down, the water dripping from my soaked clothes pooling around my feet. It wasn’t just the rain that chilled me. It was the weight of helplessness. A mother who devoted her entire life to raising me. A woman who worked night shifts and cleaned houses just so I could attend school. And now, when it was my turn to save her, I was powerless. I pulled out my phone for the hundredth time and scrolled through my contacts. Most of them were people I hadn’t spoken to in years. Some were old classmates, others were coworkers I barely remembered. Not a single person I could call for help. I had already tried everything. Posted donation appeals on every social platform. Applied for emergency medical assistance, only to be told the waitlist was months long. Pawned every valuable thing I owned including my grandmother’s ring and my college laptop. Still, I wasn’t even close. I bit down on my bottom lip hard enough to bleed. What else could I do? “Miss Isla Monroe?” The voice cut through the storm like a sharp blade. I looked up, startled. A tall man stood in front of me, dressed immaculately in a black trench coat, an umbrella shielding him from the downpour. His suit looked more expensive than my entire apartment. He carried a briefcase in one hand and wore an unreadable expression on his face. “Yes?” I replied hesitantly, pulling my soaked coat tighter around my body. “I’m Mr. Clark. I represent Mr. Alexander Blackwood.” For a moment, I wondered if the cold had gotten to my head and I was hearing things. “Blackwood?” I repeated slowly, frowning. “As in… the billionaire Alexander Blackwood?” He gave a small nod. “Yes. Mr. Blackwood has sent you with an offer.” I blinked, confused. “You must be mistaken. I don’t know Mr. Blackwood.” “You don’t need to. He knows you.” That sent a ripple of unease down my spine. Who is this madman? “I… I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Without another word, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a sealed envelope. He handed it to me, along with a business card. The paper felt too crisp, too clean in my trembling hands. I opened it slowly, unsure of what I was even expecting. What I saw made my breath catch. A check. $500,000. Payable to Isla Monroe. My heartbeat slammed against my ribcage. I glanced up at him, the paper shaking in my grip. “This can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s very real,” he replied calmly. “It comes with a condition.” “What kind of condition?” I asked, already bracing for something horrible. “A marriage contract. Six months. You marry Mr. Blackwood legally and publicly. In return, the check is yours, and your mother’s surgery will be arranged immediately.” I stared at him like he had just spoken in another language. “You want me to marry a stranger?” “This is not a romantic proposition, Miss Monroe. It’s a business transaction. Mr. Blackwood requires a wife for a personal matter. You are a suitable candidate.” My stomach churned. “Why me?” I asked again, louder this time. “Why not someone from his own world? A model? A socialite? A woman who actually fits in his life?” He paused just for a second. There was a strange look in his eyes before he said, “Because you resemb… remind him of someone. That’s all I can tell you.” What did that even mean? I looked down at the check again. It was so surreal. I could almost feel the weight of the ink on my fingertips. “I don’t understand… is this even legal?” “There’s a contract. A legal one. You’ll receive a copy to review. Everything will be handled by our attorneys.” “And after six months?” My voice cracked. “The marriage ends. Cleanly. Discreetly. No obligations afterward.” I stared at the check, torn between the rising fear in my chest and the urgency clawing at my heart. My mother needed that money. She didn’t have time for my pride, or my hesitation, or my confusion. I had nothing. No options. No safety net. And now, this stranger was offering to buy my life for six months in exchange for saving hers. “What happens if I say no?” I asked softly. He raised a brow. “Then I walk away, and the offer disappears. Forever.” I looked up at him again, searching for any sign that this was a prank or a scam or anything other than what it appeared to be. But there was none. “Why would a man like Alexander Blackwood need a fake wife?” Mr. Clark didn’t answer. He simply gave a thin smile and turned away. “You have until midnight,” he said before walking off into the rain, disappearing like a shadow into the storm. His black umbrella glistened as he walked away. I stood there soaked, stunned, heart pounding in my ears. And in my hand… was a lifeline I never expected, attached to a chain I didn’t fully understand. I didn’t know if this was a blessing or a trap. A miracle or a curse. But deep down, I knew the truth: Desperation doesn’t care about consequences. And mine had just written me into a deal I couldn’t afford to refuse.It’s my fault… all of it. I blame myself for dragging Isla into my shit. It’s been two days since I got my hands on her phone… two fucking days, and as I stare at it inside the transparent nylon bag on the table in the investigator’s office, I can’t help the feeling of dread creeping into me. With all the money and power I possess, I couldn’t do anything for a full day because of the stupid law that says you have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person report. Even after I showed them her damn broken phone. “Mr. Blackwood, I’ll suggest you sit this one out. Joseph Matin Muir will be on his way. Besides, I heard you have your own problems to deal with.” Ah yes, I do. I mean, when don’t I ever have a problem? From the moment I was born into this family, I’ve always had problems. A twisted father who never got satisfaction from anything I did. Who never even saw me as worthy of getting my own inheritance. A sick, twisted wife who fucked around. With a quick exhal
TWO MONTHS AGO ALEXANDER’S POV I stare blankly at my phone screen as I clench the cigar in my hand. I don’t even know how long it’s been. Minutes? Hours? I’m a complete mess. Why did I ask her to come? I should’ve gone to pick her up myself. But she insisted on coming alone. And now I feel like the biggest fool after what happened last night. I wasn’t gentle enough… and God, she still thinks she’s a virgin. The thought makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Just how badly did she lose herself? “Sir? The conference is about to start.” “Cancel it.” I don’t bother looking at Mario. I flip through the files on my desk, but he’s still standing there, stiff and waiting. “Sir—It’s the Matin Muir, and you said—” “I know what I said, Mario. I won’t be attending.” I turn my gaze back to the view. The weight of the day presses on me. My name’s all over the internet for the worst reasons, thanks to Theodore. I cut my gaze toward my father’s massive portrait hanging on t
I’ve always known I had the terrible habit of sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, even when the warning bells were screaming DON’T DO IT. But it’s the fear of being left in the dark that terrifies me the most. The feeling that if I don’t know what’s going on, I’m being blindly led into a slaughter zone. Even now, as I walk hand-in-hand with Alex. He says nothing, but his lips curve into a heartwarming smile as he lifts me off the ground. My head turns automatically, trying to take in the surroundings. A hospital? The bright, sterile ceiling glows above, and the sharp scent of medicine burns my nostrils as I realize I’m being carried toward a bed. Confusion claws at my chest. What’s going on? I glance up at his face. His lips are moving like he’s trying to speak, or maybe he already is—I can’t tell. The softness of the sheets cushions my back as he gently lowers me onto the bed. But the moment my body sinks into it, a sharp sting radiates from my pelvis, burning hot and
“So you’re saying—” “He got me pregnant…” So that’s why she’s so jealous? To the extent of harming Beatrice? Because he chose her instead of her? “I don’t believe anything you say about Beatrice. I want to go back…” She flinches suddenly, and I pause, watching her remove her hands from the railing. She drops them to her sides with a sigh, and I catch the slight drip of blood. “These darn railings… you never know when you might just get scratched by the rusted parts,” she laughs softly, rubbing the bleeding wound with the scarf wrapped around her neck. I eye her warily as another gust of wind blows, scattering her hair to the side. “Don’t look at me like—” The sound of footsteps behind me cuts her off. Her gaze shifts to Jake, standing just behind the lounge chair I’m currently occupying. How is he so fast? “Sorry for interrupting your little sister bonding,” he says, directing his words at Celeste, “but we have some serious issues.” I spare a glance at the blonde w
“You’re up early.” “And I should’ve drugged you so you’d still be asleep while I handle my business,” Jake mutters, clearly annoyed as he walks slowly to the edge of my bed. I woke early, even without knowing if it’s morning or not. I had to act fast. The keys are hidden now, tucked away somewhere he won’t easily find. And I’m almost certain that’s exactly what he’s looking for. I keep my expression neutral, feigning the grogginess of someone who just woke up as i dart my gaze to the red dot flashing slightly from the perched camera close to the couch by the walls as i remember shifting it in the middle of the night to face the wall while i stash the keys in the wooden lines on the ceiling. “We’re on the lower deck,” I say, more a statement than a question. He glances at me briefly before shifting his attention back to the couch. Shit. Does he think he dropped the keys under there? “Yes, I believe we are. If you’re planning to throw yourself into the ocean, I suggest you w
“For the love of all things stressful, can you stop trying to jump off the ship? You’re being unreasonable, and I might as well beat the stubbornness out of you if you keep acting this way.” I watch with dazed eyes as Jake carries me back inside the ship, through that cursed all-white hallway that makes me feel like I’ve been admitted to a mental asylum. It doesn’t help that I’m also dressed in a flimsy white gown—the exact kind patients wear in those places. I wasn’t contemplating suicide or anything. The windowless rooms were just making me sick, and I needed fresh air. So I walked out of the room I’ve been confined in for… days? To my surprise, the door wasn’t locked. Jake wasn’t even guarding it. My legs have healed enough, so I did what I could. I ran. I don’t know why, I just… did. Out into the open, into the inky blackness that is the sea. The sight alone makes me want to throw up the pathetic dinner they gave me—apples, as usual. The ship is massive, now that I thin
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