Chapter 4: The Devil’s Contract

Twelve o’clock. Midnight.

The ticking of the grand clock echoed in my ears like a countdown to my own funeral.

I stood by the window, staring out at the massive estate. The night was still. Too still. As if the world was holding its breath for my answer.

The mansion was surrounded by high steel walls, electric fences, and men in black patrolling the perimeter. I had no doubt that every inch of this place was a trap dressed in luxury.

Even if I managed to escape, I wouldn’t survive five steps past that gate.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the shaking. I didn’t want to cry again. I was tired of crying. But everything inside me screamed with helplessness.

Marry a man I barely knew—a man who had shot my father and sister.

Or watch the people who betrayed me suffer.

What kind of choice was that?

“Celeste,” I whispered to myself. “Get a grip. You need to think clearly.”

But how could I?

All I could hear was Papa screaming. All I could see was Selene’s face—distorted in pain and fear.

I hated them.

But I couldn’t let them die.

Did that make me weak?

Or human?

A soft knock came at the door.

I didn’t answer.

It creaked open anyway.

“Midnight,” Dominic said as he stepped inside.

He wasn’t wearing a suit this time. Just a black shirt with sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms and a silver watch that glinted under the light. His mask was gone again.

He looked… normal.

But there was nothing normal about this man.

“I’m not ready,” I said stiffly, not turning to face him.

“You’ve had twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours to decide if I should sell myself into a marriage I never wanted,” I snapped, spinning around. “Forgive me if I needed more time.”

His expression remained calm. “I told you—I don’t force brides.”

“No,” I hissed. “You threaten them.”

He tilted his head, as if weighing my words. “I only gave you a choice. Marry me and save them… or walk away and watch me destroy what’s left of your family.”

“That’s not a choice. That’s blackmail.”

He stepped closer. “It’s business.”

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare reduce my life to a transaction.”

Dominic sighed. “I know you don’t trust me—”

“Why would I?! You drugged me, kidnapped me, and now you’re parading around as if I should be honored to be your bride!”

He closed the distance between us in two strides.

“But you’re still here,” he said darkly.

I backed away until my spine hit the wall.

“Don’t touch me,” I said shakily.

“I won’t,” he said, hands at his sides. “Not until you say yes.”

I laughed bitterly. “You’re waiting for consent like that makes you less of a monster?”

“No,” he said softly. “I’m waiting because I want you to choose me… even if it’s out of hate. I can work with hate. I can’t work with silence.”

My chest tightened.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a black folder with a thick gold seal.

“What’s that?” I asked warily.

“Our marriage contract,” he said. “Signed, notarized, and ready. All that’s missing is your signature.”

I stared at it.

He held it out to me, but I didn’t move.

“What do I get?” I asked suddenly.

His brows rose. “Excuse me?”

“If I sign that paper… what do I get in return? You want me to marry you? Fine. Let’s make this a real business deal.”

He studied me for a moment. Then—surprisingly—he smiled.

There was something almost amused in his expression.

“You’re learning,” he said. “Smart girl.”

“I want my father and sister alive. I want them safe. No torture, no threats, no surveillance. I want them out of your hands.”

“Done,” he said without hesitation.

“I want my café back.”

“Already bought it,” he replied. “It’s under your name again.”

That startled me. “What?”

“You left the keys on the counter the day I took you. It was easy to retrieve.”

I swallowed. “And I want my freedom.”

He paused. “You’ll have it… inside this house.”

“Not good enough.”

Dominic stepped closer, voice low. “You’ll be my wife, Celeste. The world will know it. You’ll go where I go. You’ll dine in five-star hotels, attend high-society events, fly in private jets. You’ll live like a queen.”

“I never asked to be a queen,” I said, looking away. “I just wanted a normal life.”

“Normal doesn’t exist for people like us anymore,” he said.

I felt like crying again, but I blinked back the tears.

“Last demand,” I said. “No touching. No intimacy. Not unless I say so.”

He gave a slow nod. “Done.”

I hesitated.

Was I really doing this?

Was I really about to sign my soul away?

I looked down at the folder. My fingers trembled as I took it from his hands.

“I’ll need a pen,” I whispered.

He pulled a sleek black pen from his shirt pocket and handed it to me.

I stared at the line where my name was meant to go.

“Celeste Madrigal…” I whispered to myself.

I thought of my mother.

Forgive me.

And then, with one shaky breath, I signed it.

The pen scratched across the paper like a dagger carving into my fate.

I dropped the pen as soon as it was done.

Dominic took the contract gently, folded it, and placed it in his inner coat pocket.

And then… he bowed slightly.

“To my wife,” he said.

I wanted to scream.

But instead, I stood silently as he stepped forward.

He didn’t kiss me. He didn’t even touch me.

Instead, he said something that chilled me more than anything else that night.

“I’ll take care of you now. Whether you love me or not… you belong to me.”

He turned to leave, but I called out.

“What happens now?”

He looked back over his shoulder.

“We get married. Publicly. In seven days. Until then, you stay here. My staff will attend to you. My lawyers will send you the prenup details. Oh… and one more thing.”

“What?”

“You’ll be sharing my room.”

My mouth opened in protest, but he was already gone.

The door shut behind him with a heavy click.

---

I collapsed onto the bed, breathless.

It was done.

I was Mrs. Dominic Villaraza—on paper, at least.

I sold my freedom to save people who never loved me.

But the worst part?

There was a twisted part of me—small, hidden, afraid—that wondered…

What if being his wife isn’t the end of me?

What if it’s just the beginning?