LOGINShe ran from an arranged marriage. He found her at an auction—and bought her anyway. When Elena escapes her family’s plan to marry her off to Damian Blackwood, she hides at a secret bride auction. But the highest bidder isn’t a stranger. It’s the very billionaire she’s been running from. Cold. Dangerous. Possessive. And determined to own her. With one ruthless bid, Damian traps her in a one-year marriage contract. Elena hates him—until the night gunmen attack, and she realizes his enemies want her dead too. As secrets unravel, Elena learns the truth behind her family’s debts, her father’s death, and the dark empire Damian rules. Every lie brings her closer to hating him… and every moment in his arms makes it harder to leave. He was supposed to be her captor. So why does her heart feel safest with him? A runaway bride. A cold billionaire. A marriage built on danger, secrets, and a love neither of them can escape.
View More(Elena POV)
The ballroom glittered with wealth. Diamonds winked under golden chandeliers, champagne fizz bubbled in crystal flutes, and violins sang notes of luxury. I pulled the mask lower over my face with trembling hands and I am trying to breathe, here goes nothing.
Every instinct were screaming for me to run for the heels. I wasn’t a porcelain heiress with a gilded last name. I am an imposter—hiding in satin and silk. But tonight, the “charity bride auction” is my shield. As long as I blend with the other women lined up backstage, they won’t find me.
My heart hammered. Especially him.
Damian Blackwood. The man I am supposed to marry. A billionaire whose name made tycoons tremble. Cold, ruthless, untouchable. I had seen the way he looked at me during our brief engagement meetings—like I was just another piece of asset, another acquisition. And I refuse to be bought.
The curtains lifted. Applause rolled through the crowd.
One by one, we glided onto the stage, gowns shimmering under the lights. Each of us masked, each mysterious, each promised to the highest bidder for the sake of “charity.” My turn came all too soon. My heels clicking like gunshots against the polished floor.
The audience murmured. I could feel their gazes sweeping over my curves, my palm were sweating but I was trying so hard to maintain my posture. Someone called out a bid. Then another. The numbers climbed higher than I ever seen in my life.
And then—
“Ten million.”
His voice cut through the room like a blade. Deep. Unmistakable.
My blood turned to ice. Slowly, against every desperate instinct, I lifted my eyes to the crowd.
Damian Blackwood sat in the front row. No mask. No hesitation. His obsidian gaze pinned me where stood. I couldn’t move, my mind was about to explode. Oh no, not him!!
“Sold,” the auctioneer declared almost instantly, gavel striking with finality. No one dared challenge the offer.
The crowd erupted in applause, but all I can hear is the pounding of my own heart.
Damian rose, unhurried, a dark smile curling at his lips as he strode toward the stage. He looked like a predator claiming his prize.
“Running,” he murmured as he his hands sneaked around my waist, voice low enough for only for me to hear “only made you more expensive, sweetheart.”
The crowd cheered. My mask hid my face, but not the terror in my eyes.
Now, let us back track to why I am in this mess. My family is not on the wealthy side I mean, we manage but with 5 kids, it gets kind of hard to go by and our family is in a lot of debt. Hi my name is Elena and I am the first child. About a month ago, my dad called me into his office and he told me that I am going to be getting married in three month time to the most vicious and cruel man that ever walked the face of the earth. I couldn’t move, I was just staring at my dad like he had grown two heads. What just happened? I thought. No... No... No... No... I can’t be married to him, anyone else, but him. I tried to reason with my father but his decision was final, I am getting married to Damian Blackwood, why me?
So I started plotting, I had to run away, I just had to. I fixed a date when I was going to do it and when the day finally came, I ran. I stayed a motel at the outskirt of town and I laid low for a while until I stumbled upon an auction on my phone; an auction for women to be bought for marriage, I saw this as a great opportunity and immediately I applied. Yes, now you can’t have me anymore, or so I thought.
(Back to the present)
The applause still echoed in my ears as Damian’s hand closed around my wrist, firm and inescapable. He didn’t drag me, not quite—but the quiet authority in his touch made it clear: resistance was useless.
The crowd parted as he led me away from the glittering stage, down a side corridor lined with velvet curtains. Every step felt like a death march.
When the door clicked shut behind them, the noise of the gala died, leaving only the pounding of my heart.
I yanked her hand free, gathering the little that I had. “You can’t just buy me like—like I’m some prize!”
Damian leaned back against the wall, loosening his tie with deliberate ease. His obsidian eyes held mine, sharp enough to pin me in place. “Prize? Don’t flatter yourself. You ran, Elena. And I told you—running only makes the chase more interesting.”
My breath seized. He knew.
“You planned this,” I whispered, fury trembling in my voice. “The auction—”
“Was the perfect trap,” Damian cut in smoothly. “And you stepped into it without hesitation.” He smiled, but there was no warmth in it—only possession. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”
My nails dug into my palms. “I would rather disappear than marry you.”
His expression hardened, the smile vanishing like a mask. “Disappear? Into what? Poverty? Scandal? Do you know how quickly this world would eat you alive without protection?” He pushed off the wall and closed the distance between us in three strides. I felt caged, heat rolling off his tailored suit.
“I don’t want your protection,” I spat.
“You don’t have a choice.” His hand braced against the wall beside my head, caging me in. “Your family owes me everything. Their debts, their mistakes—you are the payment, Elena.”
My stomach dropped. “You’re lying.” No it can’t be true, please tell me it’s a lie.
Damian’s gaze didn’t waver. “No. I’m offering you a bargain. You marry me for one year. One. At the end, you’ll walk away untouched, free, and richer than you ever imagined. But if you run again—” His voice dropped, silken and lethal. “Your family loses everything. And I don’t play games when money is involved.”
My throat tightened. I want to scream, to claw, to bolt—but his words shackles me tighter than his grip ever could.
“Why me?” I whispered hoarsely. “You could have anyone.”
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Something dark, unreadable. “Because you’re mine.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. But then I realized the most terrifying part wasn’t that he had trapped me.
It was that a part of me, traitorous and weak, wanted to know what it meant to belong to Damian Blackwood.
ELENA POV He kissed me again. Not careful. Not restrained. It wasn’t soft this time — it was claiming. It was promise. It was something that made my knees weak and my heart feel too big for my chest. His hand tightened at my waist, pulling me closer. For one reckless second, I forgot about Anton. About the war. About everything. And then— BOOM. The entire mansion shook. The sound wasn’t thunder. It was closer. The windows rattled. A sharp cracking noise split through the air as one of the tall glass panels shattered inward. I screamed. Damian’s body moved before I could think. He spun, pulling me down with him as shards of glass sprayed across the marble floor. “Stay down!” he barked. Another explosion—this one farther away. Alarms began blaring instantly. My ears rang. “What is happening?!” I gasped. Every where was like a blur as I look around. Damian’s arm was locked around me, shielding my head with his body. “Targeted blast,” he said tightly. “Controlled.
ELENA POV The mansion was quiet for once. Too quiet. The storm outside tapped softly against the tall glass windows, rain sliding down in silver streaks. Damian had just finished another tense call in his office, but when he stepped out and saw me standing near the fireplace, something in his expression softened. “You should be resting,” he said. “You should be sleeping,” I replied. A faint huff of amusement escaped him. We stood there for a moment. Just looking at each other, feeling each other's warmth but not touching each other... oh my gosh... my heart will not burst out of my chest. Since the hospital… since the confession… something had changed. The space between us felt thinner. Charged. “Are you still afraid?” I asked quietly. “Of Anton?” he said. “Of us.” That made him still. He walked toward me slowly, like approaching something fragile. “I’m not afraid of what I feel,” he said lowly. “Then what are you afraid of?” His hand lifted, hesitated in the air nea
ELENA POV The room felt different after his confession. Not lighter. But clearer. Like the fog between us had finally lifted. Damian still held my hand, though I wasn’t sure he realized it. His thumb brushed absentmindedly against my knuckles, slow, grounding, almost like he was checking that I was real. My heart is all I can hear at this moment and its not out of panic but a different feeling that I am starting to accept. “You chose me,” I repeated softly. His jaw tightened slightly. “I would do it again.” there my heart goes again... There was no arrogance in his voice. No dominance. Just certainty. The kind that makes your chest ache. “Even if it costs you everything?” I asked. He finally looked at me fully. “It already has.” Something in my heart shifted. All this time I thought he controlled everything. That he stood above it all — untouchable. But sitting here now, he didn’t look untouchable. He looked human. And tired. “Damian,” I whispered. He leaned closer
The hospital room was quiet.Too quiet.The fire had taken the edge off my anger, but it hadn’t taken away the questions. If anything, it made them heavier.Damian stood by the window, city lights reflecting off the glass. His shoulders looked broader somehow — like he carried something invisible and crushing. I wonder what weight he carries in his life, I thought.“You said this started years ago,” I said softly. “Before my father.”He didn’t turn around immediately.“Yes.”“Tell me.”Silence.Then a slow exhale.“You’re not going to like what you hear.”“I already don’t like what I don’t know.”That made him glance back at me. His eyes looking so distant and cold.After a moment, he pulled the chair closer to my bed and sat down. Close enough that I could see the tension in his jaw.“Anton and I weren’t always enemies,” he began.My stomach dropped.“What?”“We were partners.”The word felt wrong. D


















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