IRIS POV
I couldn't sleep.
How could I, knowing someone had tried to break into my room? Knowing Adrian's enemy was also targeting me now? Knowing that in less than twelve hours, I'd sign a contract marrying a man I'd met yesterday?
At 2 AM, I gave up trying to rest. Adrian's bedroom was dark except for city lights filtering through the windows. I could hear his breathing from the couch—steady, deep, like he had no trouble sleeping despite the danger.
Men like him probably never lost sleep over anything.
I slipped out of bed and padded across the cold floor to where my phone was charging. Three missed calls from Damien. Five texts from Dad. Two voicemails from Patricia demanding I "stop being dramatic and come home."
Home. As if I had one.
I deleted everything without listening.
My finger hovered over Sophia's number. My best friend was still on her business trip, probably asleep. But she'd want to know about this insanity, wouldn't she?
Except... what would I say? "Hi, I'm marrying a billionaire stranger for revenge and money, also someone tried to kidnap me tonight"?
She'd think I'd lost my mind.
Maybe I had.
"Can't sleep?"
I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. Adrian sat up on the couch, his hair messy, his shirt wrinkled. He looked more human like this. Less like a dangerous billionaire, more like a tired person.
"Sorry," I whispered. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't really sleeping." He stood and walked to the window. "Too much to plan."
"For our fake wedding?"
"Among other things." He glanced at me. "Having second thoughts?"
"About a hundred of them." I joined him at the window. Manhattan spread out below us like a field of stars. "This is crazy, Adrian. You know that, right?"
"Most worthwhile things are."
"Worthwhile for you, maybe. You get your inheritance and your revenge. I get hunted by a murderer."
"You also get five million dollars."
"Money doesn't matter if I'm dead."
"You won't die." His voice was hard. "I won't let that happen."
"You don't know that. You can't promise—"
"I promise." He turned to face me fully. "Nothing will happen to you while you're under my protection. Nothing."
The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. He meant it. This wasn't some business promise. This was personal.
But why? We were strangers. This was supposed to be transactional.
"Why do you care so much?" I asked softly. "About keeping me safe, I mean. I'm just a tool for your revenge plan."
Adrian was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "My mother died because I couldn't protect her. I was fifteen, powerless, useless. I won't make that mistake again."
The pain in his voice was raw. Real.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "About your mother."
"Don't be sorry. Just trust that I know how to keep you alive." He crossed his arms. "The contract includes a security detail. Bodyguards, safe houses, everything you need. You'll be safer with me than you've ever been."
"Safer. But not free."
"Free to do what? Go back to your old life?" His laugh was bitter. "That life is gone, Iris. The question isn't whether you're free. It's whether you're going to take control or let other people control you."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
"Show me the contract," I said. "The real one. I want to read every word before I sign anything."
Adrian smiled slightly. "Now you sound like the blogger I've been reading for two years. Always checking the fine print."
He retrieved a thick folder from his desk and handed it to me. "Everything's in there. Read it carefully. Ask questions. Catherine made it ironclad, but fair."
I sat on the couch and started reading. Adrian made coffee while I worked through the legal language.
**CONTRACT OF MARRIAGE - TERMS AND CONDITIONS**
The document was thorough. Scary thorough.
**Duration:** One year from date of marriage, renewable only by mutual agreement.
**Compensation:** Five million dollars USD, paid upon completion of contract term.
**Living Arrangements:** Iris Chen will reside at Adrian Thorne's primary residence (Thorne Tower Penthouse). Separate bedrooms mandatory. Cohabitation for appearance purposes only.
**Public Expectations:** Must attend social events together, display affection appropriate to a married couple, present united front to media and business associates.
**Private Boundaries:** No romantic or sexual relationship required or expected. Both parties maintain emotional independence.
I paused at that section. No romance. No sex. Just business.
That should make me feel better. So why did it feel... disappointing?
I kept reading.
**Termination Clauses:** Contract voids immediately if either party: develops genuine romantic feelings, engages in infidelity, breaches confidentiality, or causes intentional harm to the other party.
**Penalties:** Breach of contract results in forfeiture of all compensation. Additional damages may apply.
**Protection Guarantee:** Adrian Thorne assumes full responsibility for Iris Chen's physical safety during contract period. Any harm resulting from his business dealings triggers immediate $20 million payment to designated beneficiary.
That was the clause I'd demanded. My life insurance policy.
"Questions?" Adrian asked, handing me coffee.
"This section about emotional attachment. How do you prove that?"
"You can't, really. It's mostly there as a deterrent." He sipped his coffee. "The idea is to keep things professional. No messy feelings complicating the arrangement."
"And if feelings develop anyway?"
"They won't."
"You sound very certain."
"I am. I don't do feelings, Iris. Lost that ability years ago." His voice was matter-of-fact. "And you just got your heart destroyed by my brother. You're not exactly looking for love either."
True. Love was a lie. A trick. A way to make people vulnerable.
Never again.
"What about the public affection part?" I asked. "How far does that go?"
"Hand-holding. Occasional kisses for photos. Nothing more unless you're comfortable." Adrian sat across from me. "I'm not going to force anything. This only works if we both agree to the terms."
"And your grandmother? Will she believe we're really in love?"
"Elena is sharp. She'll probably see through it." He smiled slightly. "But she's also desperate for me to marry before she dies. She'll play along if it means getting what she wants."
"So everyone's using everyone else."
"Welcome to my world."
I read through the rest of the contract. Financial arrangements, property rights, media protocols, divorce procedures. Everything was spelled out in cold, legal language.
This was really happening.
I was about to marry Adrian Thorne.
"One more question," I said. "Why me? Really. You could have found anyone desperate enough to take this deal. Why specifically me?"
Adrian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His grey eyes locked onto mine.
"Because people underestimate you," he said quietly. "They always have. Your family, Damien, everyone. They see a quiet girl who makes herself small. They don't see the brilliant mind underneath. They don't see the strategist who's been exposing corporate corruption for two years. They don't see someone who could build an empire if she wanted to."
My throat tightened.
"But I see you, Iris. I see exactly who you are. And that's your greatest weapon—people won't know what hit them until it's too late."
No one had ever talked about me like that. Like I was powerful. Like I mattered.
"You're good at manipulation," I whispered.
"I'm good at seeing the truth." He didn't look away. "So here's my real question: Are you brave enough to become who you actually are? Or are you going to keep making yourself small for people who'll never appreciate it?"
The words hit like a slap. A wake-up call.
I'd spent my whole life being what other people needed. The good daughter. The supportive girlfriend. The invisible stepsister. Always shrinking, always compromising, always giving up pieces of myself.
Where had that gotten me? Abandoned. Betrayed. Thrown away.
Maybe it was time to try something different.
"Where do I sign?" I asked.
Adrian's smile was sharp and satisfied. He handed me a pen.
I flipped to the last page of the contract. Three signature lines—mine, his, and a witness.
My hand shook as I signed my name.
Iris Chen.
Soon to be Iris Thorne.
"Done," I said, setting down the pen.
Adrian signed next, his handwriting bold and confident. "Catherine will witness it tomorrow morning when she reviews everything. Then it's official."
"Three days until the wedding."
"Three days," he agreed. "Think you can be ready?"
"To become Mrs. Adrian Thorne and make my ex-fiancé regret everything?" I smiled, and it felt sharp. Dangerous. "I was born ready."
We sat there in the darkness, two broken people who'd just made a devil's bargain.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
I opened it.
My blood turned to ice.
The message showed a photo—me, standing in Adrian's guest room earlier tonight, taken through the window from outside.
Below the image, one line of text: **I know you're with him. Big mistake, Iris. You should have stayed with Damien. Now you'll pay for choosing wrong. Sweet dreams. —V**
V.
Vivienne.
My "dying" stepsister had just sent me a death threat.
"Adrian," I whispered, hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone. "Look at this."
He took my phone, his expression darkening with each second.
"How did she get this photo?" he demanded. "This angle is from the building across the street. Someone was watching you with a telephoto lens."
"She's working with Marcus Westbrook. Your investigator said they met today."
"Which means she knows about our contract. About everything." Adrian's jaw clenched. "This changes things."
"Changes them how?"
He looked at me, and something dangerous flickered in his eyes.
"The wedding isn't in three days anymore," he said. "We're getting married tomorrow. First thing in the morning. Before they can make another move."
"Tomorrow? But—"
"They're threatening you, Iris. Once you're legally my wife, you're under my full protection. The prenup, the security, everything becomes binding. Right now, you're vulnerable." His voice was hard. "I won't risk it."
My heart pounded. "This is happening so fast—"
"Too fast?" He stood, pulling me up with him. "Someone photographed you through a window tonight. Vivienne is working with the man who killed my mother. And you just signed a contract putting yourself in the middle of my war. Fast isn't the problem anymore. Survival is."
He was right. God help me, he was right.
"Okay," I breathed. "Tomorrow. We get married tomorrow."
"I'll make the arrangements. Catherine can expedite the paperwork. We'll have a private ceremony at the courthouse, then announce it publicly at the gala this weekend."
"And then what?"
"Then we show them all exactly what happens when they underestimate us."
Another text came through. This time from a different number.
**Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, little brother. Iris looks beautiful in those photos. Would be a shame if something happened to her before the big day. —M.W.**
Marcus Westbrook. Threatening me directly.
Adrian's entire body went rigid. "That's it. James!" he shouted.
His security chief appeared within seconds. "Sir?"
"Full lockdown. Armed guards on every entrance. No one gets within a hundred feet of this building. And find me Marcus Westbrook's location right now."
"Yes, sir."
James disappeared. Adrian turned to me, his expression fierce.
"You're not leaving my sight until we're married. Not for a second. Understand?"
I nodded, too scared to argue.
"Good." He pulled me toward the bedroom. "Try to sleep. Tomorrow you become my wife, and the real game begins."
But as I lay in Adrian's bed—safe for now—one thought kept circling through my mind:
I'd signed that contract thinking I was choosing revenge.
What if I'd actually chosen war?
And what if I wasn't ready for what was coming?