Chapter 2 — The Marriage Contract

ELENA

I didn't sleep that night.

How could I?

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Adrian's words.

"They'll come looking for her replacement."

Me.

I was the replacement.

I sat on the edge of the enormous bed in the guest room, staring at the contract sitting on the table.

Five million dollars.

One year.

Fake marriage.

Possible death.

I picked up my phone and called Mia.

She answered immediately.

"Are you alive?"

"Unfortunately."

"What happened?"

"I got the job."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

I hesitated.

"Five million."

Silence.

Then—

"FIVE MILLION WHAT?"

"Dollars."

Mia screamed so loudly I pulled the phone away from my ear.

"You are marrying a billionaire?"

"I don't think billionaire is the word I'd use."

"What happened?"

"I can't explain everything."

"Elena."

"I'll tell you later."

A knock came at the door.

I froze.

"Someone's here."

"Who?"

I ended the call.

The door opened.

Adrian stood there.

He had removed his jacket and tie.

For some reason, seeing him without the formal suit made him seem more human.

That was dangerous.

"You're still awake."

"Clearly."

He looked at the untouched dinner beside my bed.

"You haven't eaten."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat."

"I've had worse nights."

He stepped inside.

I crossed my arms.

"Was the woman really your fiancée?"

"Yes."

"Did you love her?"

His jaw tightened.

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

I noticed.

He noticed that I noticed.

"Her name?"

"Isabella."

"What happened?"

"She disappeared."

"Because of you?"

His eyes sharpened.

"Be careful, Elena."

I immediately regretted asking.

"Sorry."

He walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

"There's something you should know."

I waited.

"The marriage will be announced tomorrow."

My eyes widened.

"Tomorrow?"

"We don't have time."

"Why?"

"Because people are already asking questions."

"About Isabella?"

"About why I haven't married her."

I stared at him.

"So I'm really doing this?"

"You signed the contract."

"You could have mentioned the danger before I signed."

"You wouldn't have signed."

"Exactly!"

He almost smiled.

Almost.

"Get some sleep."

He left.

I stared at the closed door.

For someone who was supposedly emotionless, he was incredibly good at making me angry.

The next morning, a woman named Sofia arrived.

She was Adrian's personal assistant.

She brought clothes.

Lots of clothes.

Designer dresses.

Shoes.

Jewelry.

I stared at everything.

"I can't wear this."

Sofia looked at me.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how."

She smiled.

"You'll learn."

Three hours later, I stood in front of the mirror wearing a black dress that cost more than my old apartment.

Sofia adjusted my hair.

"You look beautiful."

I barely recognized myself.

Then the door opened.

Adrian entered.

He stopped.

For the first time, I saw him lose his composure.

His eyes moved over me.

Slowly.

His expression became unreadable.

I cleared my throat.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

He looked away.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"To buy your ring."

The jewelry store was private.

No customers.

No cameras.

Adrian walked toward the display.

"Choose one."

I stared at the diamonds.

"They're expensive."

"That's the point."

I picked the simplest one.

He frowned.

"That?"

"It's pretty."

"It's small."

"It's enough."

He looked at me.

Then nodded.

The jeweler placed it on my finger.

Adrian took my hand.

His fingers brushed mine.

A strange warmth traveled through me.

I quickly pulled away.

His eyes followed the movement.

Neither of us spoke.

That evening, the announcement was made.

ADRIAN DE LUCA TO MARRY ELENA ROSSI.

The internet exploded.

News reporters gathered outside the mansion.

Questions filled the air.

Who was Elena Rossi?

Where had she come from?

Why had Adrian suddenly chosen her?

I stood beside him on the balcony.

His hand rested around my waist.

For the cameras, we smiled.

For the cameras, we looked in love.

But beneath his breath, Adrian whispered—

"Don't look frightened."

"I'm not."

"Your hands are shaking."

"Because you're terrifying."

His lips twitched.

"Good."

The cameras flashed.

Then I noticed a man across the street.

He wasn't taking pictures.

He was staring directly at me.

I looked again.

He was gone.

"Adrian."

"What?"

"Someone was watching me."

His smile disappeared.

"Where?"

I pointed.

He immediately signaled one of his men.

Within seconds, security surrounded us.

Adrian pulled me inside.

"What did he look like?"

"Dark hair. Black coat."

"Did you see his face?"

"No."

He stared at the window.

Then he said something that made my stomach twist.

"He's here."

"Who?"

Adrian's expression turned cold.

"The person who took Isabella."