Chapter 3

They stopped in front of a set of heavy oak doors. The man knocked once before pushing them open, stepping aside to allow. Aria to step through. Her heart thundered in her chest, her breath catching as she entered the room. It was a massive study, dimly lit by the fading evening light filtering through the tall windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound books and expensive artifacts. The air smelled of polished wood and a faint trace of cigar smoke. But none of that mattered.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the figure seated behind the large mahogany desk.

Damon Blackwood.

He sat in the shadows, his face partially obscured, but what she could see was striking. Dark hair, neatly combed back, framing sharp features. His eyes were the color of onyx, glinting with an intensity that made her stomach twist. He didn't look much older than thirty-five, though his reputation had made her imagine someone far more aged. He wore a crisp black suit, tailored to perfection, and his posture was straight, commanding-not the slumped figure of a man in a wheelchair.

Aria hesitated at the threshold, her heart pounding in her chest. There was an energy in the room, thick with power and dominance, and it unnerved her.

His voice broke the silence, deep and smooth, but cold enough to send a shiver down her spine. "Come in."

Swallowing hard, she stepped forward, her legs feeling like lead. The man who had escorted her quickly shut the door behind her, leaving her alone with the man she was supposed to marry.

Damon's gaze followed her as she approached, taking in every detail of her appearance. There was something unreadable in his expression, but it wasn't indifference. It was the sharp, calculating look of a predator assessing his prey.

"Miss Kensington," he said, his voice measured, calm, but with an undercurrent of something far more dangerous. "You must be wondering why you're here."

Aria stopped a few feet from his desk, her throat dry. "I know why I'm here," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm being forced to marry you."

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Forced? That's an interesting way of putting it."

Her pulse quickened. "Isn't that what this is? A marriage contract neither of us agreed to?"

Damon leaned back slightly in his chair, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "Perhaps you didn't agree. But I never said I didn't."

Aria blinked, thrown off by his candor. "So, you want this marriage?"

His eyes narrowed just slightly, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I want what's mine."

The simple statement sent a chill down her spine. She had been prepared for resistance, for cold indifference, but not for this. Not for a man who looked at her with the kind of possession that made her feel both vulnerable and exposed.

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. "And what exactly is yours, Mr. Blackwood?"

His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and piercing. "You are, Miss Kensington."

The air between them thickened, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. The intensity of his gaze, the sheer presence of him, was overwhelming.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows shifting just enough for her to see his face more clearly. His features were flawless, but there was a hardness there, a coldness that spoke of control and ruthlessness. "You've been brought here to fulfill a contract. That contract is binding. You will be my wife. In name, in presence, and in every other way that matters."

Her heart raced, her mind reeling at the sudden finality of his words. She had expected resistance from him, maybe even some level of disdain for the arrangement. But instead, Damon Blackwood was claiming her, as if the decision had already been made and she had no say in it.

Aria's chest tightened with a mix of fear and anger. She had always been the one to fight back, to push against the expectations that her family had placed on her. But here she was, standing in front of a man who seemed utterly immovable, who believed he owned her before they had even exchanged a single word.

She steeled herself, refusing to let him see how shaken she was. "And what if I say no?"

Damon's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You won't say no, Aria."

Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. It was the first time he had addressed her by her first name, and the familiarity felt wrong-like a breach of some invisible barrier she hadn't agreed to cross.

"You don't know me," she shot back, summoning what little defiance she could muster. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

His gaze darkened, and for a moment, there was something dangerous in his expression. "I know more than you think," he said quietly, his voice dropping to a low, menacing murmur. "I know that you have no power here. I know that your family has thrown you to the wolves, and you have no choice but to play along. And I know," he paused, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken, "that you're stronger than they think you are."

Aria's breath hitched, the weight of his words catching her off guard. He wasn't wrong. Her family had betrayed her, abandoned her to this life without a second thought. And Damon-Damon saw through all of it.

"But don't mistake that strength for freedom," he continued, his voice smooth and controlled. "You belong to me now, and I will make sure you understand what that means."

Her stomach twisted, a knot of anxiety and anger forming deep within her. She wanted to scream, to tear down the walls of this oppressive situation she had been thrust into. But Damon Blackwood wasn't just some arrogant billionaire. He was something else-something darker, something more dangerous.

And despite the fear curling in her chest, there was a part of her that was drawn to him. A part of her that wanted to see just how far he would go.

She took a slow, deliberate step closer to the desk, her eyes never leaving his. "What exactly do you expect from me?"

His gaze flicked down to her lips before meeting her eyes again, his expression unreadable. "Everything."

The single word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Aria's breath caught in her throat. There was no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone, no room for doubt about what he wanted from her.

But she wasn't ready to surrender. Not yet.

"I'll give you the marriage," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the rapid pounding of her heart. "But I won't be your puppet, Damon. I won't let you control me."

His eyes glittered with amusement, as if he found her defiance endearing. "We'll see about that."

She felt a surge of frustration at his calm, almost dismissive response. How could he be so confident, so sure that he could break her? Aria had spent her whole life fighting for a sense of control, for a sliver of power in a world that had constantly sought to strip it from her.

But this-this was different. Damon wasn't like the others. He was more than just another obstacle. He was a force of nature, one that she wasn't sure she could resist.

"One more thing," Damon added, his voice drawing her out of her thoughts. "You'll move into the estate tonight. You'll live here until the wedding."

Her eyes widened. "What? You expect me to move in tonight?"

His expression remained impassive. "You're my fiancée now, Aria. You'll live under my roof, where I can keep an eye on you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her. This wasn't a request. It was an order.

"Fine," she bit out, her voice tight. "But don't think for a second that this means you own me."

Damon's smile was slow, predatory. "I already do."

Aria's pulse raced as his words echoed in her mind, a dark promise that settled deep in her chest. She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her steps quick and deliberate as she tried to regain control over her spiraling emotions.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that Damon Blackwood had just set something in motion that she wouldn't be able to stop.

And despite everything, a part of her wasn't sure she wanted to.