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(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.
By evening, Damian announced we would attend another event. “Another gala?” I groaned.“No,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks, “a private dinner. Investors.”“Do I have a choice?” is that even supposed to be a question Elena?He looked at me like the question amused him. “No.”He dressed me himself — NOT touching me, but choosing the dress, the shoes, and the necklace.A man who didn’t need to touch to control. Now that is definitely sexy.At the dinner, everything was stiff and cold, nobody said a word, it was if everyone was being on high alert and careful, but… careful of what? I was in my own bubble until an older man approached me, too close. Umm… doesn’t this guy know anything about personal space?“Beautiful bride,” he slurred, “your husband is a lucky man.” Phew, breath mint maybe.Before I could step back, Damian was already there.His hand slid around my waist, possessive. “Touch her again, and I’ll remove the hand you used.”The man backed away instantly.“Damian—” I whi
I tried leaving the mansion by noon.I made it as far as the front door before Christopher blocked me. Shit, I’ve been caught.“Orders, ma’am.”“From who?” I demanded.He looked at me flatly. “My boss. Your husband.”The word husband felt like a slap.Damian showed up minutes later, eyes cold, aura sharp. Holy shit, when did he get here, do they have this physic connection.“Elena, I told you: you don’t go anywhere without protection.” He said“I’m not a child!”“No,” he said softly, “you’re worse. You’re a target.”I froze. A target? Target for what?He stepped closer, his voice dropping dangerously, “last night wasn’t random. Those men weren’t simply drunk. They were testing my boundaries.”“Boundaries?”“Touch you… and see what I’d do.” I am not going to lie, that was kind of hot, snap out of it Elena, we are supposed to be pissed.His eyes darkened.“And I did exactly what they wanted to see.”“What does that mean?” I whispered.“It means this isn’t about you being my bride, Elena
(Elena POV)It felt like a prison sentence.I woke up in Damian’s mansion — silk sheets, cold marble floors, and silence thick enough to suffocate me. For a split second I had forgotten where I was but then I remembered, I am still in this prison marriage. How did my life get to this? I thought as I just laid down on the bed not having the strength in me to start the day.A maid knocked softly. “Mr. Blackwood requests your presence for breakfast.” I guess that didn’t last for long.Requests.As if I had a choice.I walked downstairs as slow as possible to find Damian seated, immaculate in a black shirt, reading documents on only Gods knows what, I still don’t even know what he does, all I’ve heard are rumors.His eyes lifted. “Sit.”I hated that my legs obeyed.Breakfast was like a grave yard, sounds of plate and silverwares clicking together, until he broke the slience.“You will not wander alone. You will not talk to strangers at events. You will inform Christopher if you leave yo
(Elena POV)I stared out the window of Damian’s penthouse—the city glittered like a thousand promises that I couldn’t touch.Months had passed since the engagement announcement. The internet called me “The Luckiest Bride in the World.” But luck didn’t feel like a locked door and twenty-four-hour security especially after what happened on the night of our dinner date.At 8pm, Damian was outside of the penthouse building waiting for me and I came down when I was informed by Christopher. We got to this really fancy restaurant and it took everything in my power not to look like a maniac staring at the place with so much awe and I mean how could I when all eyes were on us as we walked in, all I could think of was for the heavens to open and just take me but then Damian had his hands wrapped tightly around my waist, ensuring that I don’t fall, I guess he caught how I was feeling. While the dinner was going smoothly, there was an explosion, a lot of people lost their lives and I was scared t
The night should have ended after the gala, but Damian stayed in his study, phone pressed to his ear. I lingered outside the half-open door, curiosity outweighing caution.“…she’s safer with me,” Damian was saying, his voice clipped. “They won’t dare touch her if she carries my name.”A pause. A lower tone. “Yes. I know they’ll try. Let them.”My blood chilled. Who was he talking about? Who was they?When the call ended, I slipped away, heart hammering. Damian found me minutes later in the hallway. His gaze narrowed. “Eavesdropping?”“I—I wasn’t,” I stammered, backing away. Shit, I was caught.But he caught my chin, tilting my face up to his. “If you want answers, Elena, ask me directly. But be prepared to hear truths you won’t like.”My breath Halted. “What are you hiding?”His lips curved into a shadow of a smile. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just stay close to me.”And for the first time, I realized: Damian wasn’t just my captor. He was a man at war—and somehow, I was the weapon k
(Damian POV)What a good day to kill someone, I thought as I sipped my black coffee while looking out the beautiful view from my penthouse. “This view never gets old” I said while enjoying the little peace I get every day but of course, it never last long… “Good morning boss” mehn I wish I can kill this guy already. “What do you want Arnold?” I said while eye brows raised and eyes filled with rage. “S... sorry sir but your brother is at the lobby waiting for you” he said with trembling voice, sigh… “Fine, I’ll be down in 15, now leave me alone” “yes sir” he said with hurried feet. I got downstairs after an hour; yes I know I said after 15 but fuck it, I can do whatever I want. “This better be important David” “quit your whining big brother, I just came to check to see if you were still alive” he said“Hahaha very funny, you have seen me, now you can go”“Cool down bro, what’s the rush anyways, we got the address of Mr. James, the one that owes money from the casino in Boston”“Now you







