Alara
The pen felt heavier than it should have.
Black and gold. Sleek. Smooth. Like everything else in this damn office.
Ace Wolfe sat across from me, the picture of control—his sharp suit darker than midnight, his storm-grey eyes unreadable, watching every flick of my wrist like I might change my mind.
I didn't.
The contract between us lay open on the table. A thick stack of elegant pages with cold demands and colder promises.
Marry him.
Carry his child within three months.
Walk away when it's done.
Simple words. Life-altering consequences.
I pressed the pen to the final line.
My signature bled into the paper like ink from a wound.
"There," I whispered. My voice barely more than a breath. "It's done."
Ace leaned forward and tapped the contract once with his fingers before closing the folder silently. He picked up his phone without a word and made a call.
"Yes. Transfer her immediately to Rosecrest Private. She'll have the best care available. No delays."
My heart twisted. That was about my mother.
He hadn't even looked at me while he said it—just delivered the command like it was an errand.
He ended the call and finally lifted his gaze back to mine.
"You made the right choice," he said.
"I didn't have one."
"Doesn't change the outcome."
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a slim black card. The kind of card you had to earn—not apply for.
He placed it on the desk between us.
"Unlimited. For personal use only. Clothes, makeup, jewelry. You'll need to look the part."
"I don't want—"
"You'll take it." His voice was steel wrapped in velvet. "This is your new life. Embrace it."
I swallowed hard. The card gleamed like temptation itself.
After a beat, I reached for it. His eyes tracked the motion like a wolf watching its prey.
"Good girl," he murmured.
The air between us shifted—something unspoken and electric.
Before I could respond, he stood and walked around the table, stopping beside me. His presence pulled at the air itself.
"I need you to understand something, Alara."
I tilted my head toward him.
"We're not telling the world this is a contract. We're playing a role now. You're my fiancée. My woman. Which means you need to act like you've been by my side all along."
I arched a brow. "You want me to lie?"
"I want you to sell it," he said calmly. "We'll attend events. You'll be seen. Photographed. This isn't about pretending—it's about convincing everyone that we're already real."
"And if I mess it up?"
He leaned in slightly. His voice dropped.
"You won't."
A pulse thudded in my throat.
"Starting with the Arcadia Gala," he continued. "It's next week. Everyone who matters will be there—royalty, media, investors. And you'll be on my arm."
My stomach flipped.
"That night, the world meets Alara Grey," he said, stepping back. "You'd better be unforgettable."
I stood slowly. "Then I'll need something to wear."
He smiled faintly. "Use the card."
I turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"Why me?" I asked quietly.
He didn't answer right away. Just stared at me like he was searching for something.
Then, in a low voice, "Because you don't flinch. And I need someone who won't break."
I walked out before he could see that I already had.