Aunt

I stood in front of my full length mirror in my apartment, twisting and turning in front of it.

The red gown fit like it had been waiting for me.

It clung where it should, skimmed where it needed to, the fabric soft against my skin as if it knew my body better than I did. The neckline was modest, but the back dipped low enough to make my spine feel exposed. Elegant. Dangerous. Not something a woman wore by accident.

I checked the time on my phone more often than I was used to, 5: 50pm.

I was ready

I paired gold accessories with the red dress, the smooth silk hugging me like a prison cell.

The car that arrived wasn’t just expensive.

It was intentional.

Long, black, quiet in a way that swallowed sound, it pulled up to the curb exactly at six. The engine purred once and went still, like it was waiting for permission to breathe.

Then the back door opened.

“Good evening, Miss Elara.”

I froze.

The man standing there was tall, clean cut, dressed in charcoal gray that looked custom made to move with him. His expression was calm, polite but sharp around the edges, I couldn't help but notice how closely he resembled Mr Black, I grabbed the hem of the dress tightly.

“Rowan Cole,” he said when I finally arrived in front of him. “I’ll be taking you to Mr. Blackwood.”

So this was him.

Mila’s voice echoed in my head, Tall, hot, dangerous, survived longer than anyone else and annoyingly, she wasn’t wrong. Rowan’s gaze was steady but not invasive, his presence grounding in a way that felt… practiced.

I took his hand.

I stepped into the car, pulse already unsteady.

The drive took longer than I expected. The city slowly gave way to quiet, trees, open land, the kind of darkness that felt intentional, leading me to my fate, The gates finally appeared, tall and iron-forged

Beyond them lay the property.

Lights glowed softly along a curved driveway, illuminating trimmed hedges, marble steps, and a structure that blended modern glass with old stone. It wasn’t loud luxury. It was pure wealth, the kind that didn’t come clean.

“This is… a lot,” I murmured.

Rowan’s lips twitched. “Mr. Blackwood doesn’t do ‘halfway.’”

Inside, the space opened into a private dining hall. No other tables. No background chatter. Just one long table set for two, candles burning low, crystal reflecting light like secrets.

And there, he stood.

Adrian Blackwood was dressed in black, tailored, precise, devastating. No tie. Shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal strong forearms. His hair was slightly undone, as if he’d run a hand through it and forgotten to fix it.

His gaze moved over me slowly, and so did he.

Not rushed, he took my hand, and kissed it, his lips soft against my hands, sending tingles all over my body, I fought the urge to pull my hand away, I turned my body around to thank Rowan, But I couldn't' find him, he seemed to have disappeared from the earth.

“You look,” he said, his voice husky, pulling me back to reality, “exactly as I hoped.”

Heat rushed up my neck. “Well I have you to thank for that, you planned my dress", I said as a matter of fact

“I planned the impression,” he corrected. “You completed it.”

He lead my to the table.

Dinner was served, glasses of wine and some food I could barely recognise, rich people food I guess, I did recognise some from when I would eat at Mila's place though.

The food was exquisite, but I barely tasted it. Every movement felt magnified, the way he lifted his glass, the way his eyes tracked me when I spoke, the subtle authority in his posture.

“You understand what this arrangement is,” he said eventually. “And what it isn’t.”

“I do,” I replied. "Just a pretend marriage, one year, I read the contract, cover to cover"

“Good,” he said calmly.

He explained the rules plainly.

I would live with him. Appear with him. Learn the rhythms of his world. The public would believe we were engaged. Tomorrow, that belief would be introduced carefully. Strategically.

“And in private?” I asked.

His eyes darkened, just slightly.

“In private,” he said, “we respect boundaries.”

Something about the way he said it told me those boundaries would be tested, I didn't want that, but maybe I did.

The contract appeared after dessert. I guess the original copy.

I signed, I had just signed one year of my life away, but it would be worth it I comforted myself, the money was worth it.

He brought a small box out of his pocket, his long fingers, holding the edges delicately, it was a ring box.

My eyes widened.

When he slid the silver ring toward me, I hesitated before giving him my hand, he slid it on my ring finger, I looked at it closely, it was beautiful, not simple at all, infact it screamed wealth.

He seemed to notice, "I wanted the carat big enough for another man to see you were taken even from miles away" his lips curved into a smirk.

“Symbolic,” he added, “Nothing more.”

My chest twisted, into a painful sting, I don't know why I felt that, I was nothing more than a pawn, I knew that.

As the evening wound down, I stood, smoothing the dress over my hips, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt under his gaze.

“Why me?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me for a long moment.

“You don’t panic,” he said. "And besides, your unknown background is an advantage to me.”, he added gazing into my eyes, almost like he was trying to read me.

“That can’t be all.” I refused to believe that was it

His voice lowered. “It isn’t.”

I took a breath. “Then why did you choose me?”

Silence stretched between us, thick and filled with tension.

“I didn’t choose you randomly,” Adrian said at last.

My pulse stuttered.

He stepped closer, I could feel the heat coming from his body, my face close to his chest, I swallowed.

“Your aunt” he continued

“She sent me to you"...