Chapter Five: The Contract

Angel

The luxury of the pent house felt like a gilded cage. I didn't care about the silk sheets or the view of the city lights that stretched out like fallen stars. I spent the night huddled on the floor by the window, my knees tucked to my chest. I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes felt like they were filled with sand.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the vial of white powder. I saw the cold, accusing look in Drake Crane’s eyes. I thought of Papa, lying in that small, dark room, waiting for a daughter who might never come home.

I eventually fell into a shallow, restless sleep on the carpet.

A sharp knock on the door woke me before the sun was even fully up. Two women in gray uniforms entered. They didn't speak. They moved with a quiet, robotic speed.

"What is happening? Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Bath is ready, Miss Molley," one said. "Please. We have orders to prepare you."

"Prepare me for what? Jail?"

They didn't answer. They washed me and dressed me in a soft, cream-colored dress that probably cost more than my father’s house. They brushed my hair until it shone. I felt like a lamb being decorated for a sacrifice.

When they finished, the door opened again. The air in the room shifted instantly. That familiar scent of expensive wood and cold rain filled the space. Drake Crane walked in, followed by another man I heard one the security called him sir Grey

The maids hurried out, bowing their heads. I stood by the bed, my fingers digging into the silk coverlet.

"You look better," Gray said, his voice calm. "Less like a murderer, more like a bride."

I recoiled as if he had slapped me. "A what?"

Gray stepped forward and tossed a thick stack of papers onto the table. "You have no choice, Angel. We are giving you an option to set yourself free."

I walked over, my eyes racing through the bold letters on the first page. My heart hammered against my ribs.

CONTRACT OF MARRIAGE for Two Years.

I looked up, my jaw dropping. "Contract marriage? To whom, if I may ask?"

"To me," Drake said. He didn't turn around. He was staring out the window, looking straight at the city he owned.

I let out a laugh. It started as a small titter in my throat and grew into a loud, hysterical sound that echoed off the high ceilings. "This is a joke, right? This is a prank for a reality show?"

Neither of them smiled.

"From being your assassin to being your wife?" I continued, my voice rising. "How does that even relate? Do you think this is a movie? Like I’m going to fall in love with my killer or something?"

The last laugh had not even left my throat when the world blurred.

In a flash of movement, Drake was across the room. I didn't even see him move. Suddenly, a cold, large hand was pressed firmly against my throat. He pinned me back against the wall with the force of a lightning strike.

Fear paralyzed my heart. His eyes weren't just cold anymore; they were predatory.

"I will snap your neck if I hear you laugh one more time," he hissed.

I struggled to breathe, my hands clawing at his iron wrist. "Let... go..."

"Listen to me, you little brat," he said, his face inches from mine. "I would never want to have anything to do with a girl like you. You are not my kind of girl, and you will never be. To me, you are a tool. A pawn. Nothing more."

I looked into his dark eyes, my own burning with defiance. Even with the air leaving my lungs, I wouldn't let him see me break. "Then... find... your kind," I choked out.

"Sign the contract," he growled, tightening his grip just a fraction. "Sign it, or you go to jail. He was blackmailing me. My eyes filled with tears of rage. "I won't... bend... to you."

"Drake, let her speak," Gray said from the background. He sounded bored, as if this happened every day.

Drake stared at me for a heartbeat longer, his gaze boring into mine. Then, he abruptly let go. I slumped against the wall, gasping for air, rubbing the red marks on my neck.

"I won't cower in fear," I spat, my voice raspy. "If I'm so pathetic, why do you need me?"

"I don't need you," Drake said, turning his back on me again. "I need pawn and you look like the perfect match, it’s just for two years after that you can have your life, not like its going to be real union just for the show”

"Miss Molley," Gray intervened, stepping between us. "I will ask you one more time. If you refuse, the police are waiting downstairs. The vial of poison is already in their evidence locker. Your fingerprints are all over the tray."

I looked at the papers. I thought of the house. I thought of the medicine Papa needed to keep his heart beating. I thought of Veronica and Sarah laughing while I rotted in a cell.

I took a deep, shaky breath. "On one condition."

Drake let out a sharp, mocking laugh. He didn't even turn around. "You are not in any position to make conditions, girl."

I ignored him and looked straight at Gray. "I will sign. I will play your game. I will be the tool you need. But I have one condition."

Drake finally turned. He looked at me with a spark of genuine surprise, his brow arching. He walked back toward me, stopping just a few inches away, his shadow falling over me.

"You have a lot of nerve," he whispered. "Tell me, Angel. What could a girl like you possibly demand from a man like me?"

I stood as tall as I could. "My father. He doesn't just get his medicine. He gets the best doctors in the country. He gets a private suite at the hospital. And you... you will never have anything intimate to do with me."

Drake’s eyes darkened, but he didn't move. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face. "Deal. I have no desire to touch a commoner like you, Drake said."

“Miss Molley, its part of the contract, its just a marriage for the society, and you guys can leave differently life when not in the eyes of the public,” Grey said

Grey picked up a gold pen from the table and held it out to me. "Sign. And welcome to the family, Mrs. Crane."

I snatched the pen from his hand. My fingers were shaking, but I forced my signature onto the line. As I wrote my name next to his, I felt like I was signing my soul over to the devil.

"Is that all?" I asked, throwing the pen back onto the table.

"Smile, Angel," Drake whispered. "The nightmare is just beginning."