Serena Ashford gripped the edge of her silk gown, her knuckles turning white. The ballroom sparkled with chandeliers, the clinking of glasses and soft laughter filling the air, but she felt none of it. All she could hear was the distant echo of her family's looming bankruptcy. Thirty days. That was all the time she had to save her family's empire, or everything her ancestors had built would crumble into dust.
She forced a smile as she walked down the grand staircase, every eye in the room following her. Serena had always been graceful, the picture of poise even under pressure—but tonight, even her practiced elegance couldn't hide the tremor in her heart. She had come seeking investors, allies, anything that might save Ashford Industries from ruin. But every glance she met only reminded her of the heavy burden pressing on her shoulders.
Then she saw him.
Lucas Kingsley.
Tall, impossibly handsome, and terrifyingly cold, he stood across the room like a king surveying his court. The sharp line of his jaw, the piercing blue of his eyes, and the way he carried himself with an air of untouchable authority made Serena's pulse skip—not with attraction, but with apprehension. He wasn't just a billionaire; he was a force, a storm she couldn't control.
And he was looking straight at her.
Serena froze for a heartbeat. Their eyes met, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny as though he could see every thought racing through her mind. She had heard of Lucas Kingsley—the heir to Kingsley International, one of the oldest and most influential families in the country. A man who had never been defeated in business, a man whose name alone could make or break a company. And now, it seemed, a man whose attention she couldn't escape.
Her stomach twisted as he stepped toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. The crowd seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. When he finally stopped in front of her, his presence was overwhelming, suffocating.
"Miss Ashford," he said, his voice calm, measured, yet carrying an edge that made her shiver. "I hear your family is in… difficult circumstances."
Serena straightened, trying to keep her voice steady. "Difficult circumstances?" she echoed, keeping her smile polite. "I believe every family faces challenges from time to time, Mr. Kingsley."
He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, some more than others. I've read about Ashford Industries' recent losses. Quite impressive how quickly a once-prominent family can fall."
Her smile faltered. The laughter around them seemed sharper, crueler. She felt every whisper, every judging glance. She had known this would be difficult, but she hadn't expected to be humiliated the moment she walked into the room.
"I assure you, we are making every effort to recover," she said firmly. "And I'm confident that our investors tonight will recognize the potential we still have."
Lucas's gaze didn't waver. "Effort is admirable, but results matter far more. Your family's empire… it's on the edge of collapse. And time is running out, isn't it?"
Her chest tightened. He was right. Thirty days. That was all. And she had no idea how to convince him—or anyone else—that Ashford Industries was worth saving.
A murmur of laughter drifted from a nearby table, where a few socialites whispered behind their hands. She felt their eyes on her, judging, waiting for her to fail. Her fingers tightened around her clutch.
Lucas's smirk widened. "Miss Ashford, perhaps you need… guidance. Someone to ensure that your family's affairs are handled properly. Someone with experience, influence, and resources."
Serena frowned, a sense of dread creeping through her. "I'm not sure I understand, Mr. Kingsley."
He reached into his pocket and produced a sleek leather folder, opening it with a smooth, practiced motion. Inside was a single document, crisp and formal. He held it out to her.
Serena frowned, a sense of dread creeping through her. "I'm not sure I understand, Mr. Kingsley."
He reached into his pocket and produced a sleek leather folder, opening it with a smooth, practiced motion. Inside was a single document, crisp and formal. He held it out to her.
"This," he said, voice low and controlled, "is a marriage contract. Sign it, and your family's debts will be settled. Your company will be secure. You will have thirty days of stability, and then… we will see where we go from there."
Serena's heart stopped.
A marriage contract.
Her mind spun. She had known investors could be demanding, but she had never imagined one would demand marriage as collateral. She looked up at him, searching for a hint of jest, a sign that this was some cruel joke. But his eyes were steady, unwavering, and chillingly serious.
"I… I can't," she stammered. "I can't marry someone I just met. This… this isn't… this isn't how—"
"Time is short," Lucas interrupted, his voice sharp. "Your family's fortune is at stake. And my inheritance is conditional. I need a wife—someone who can fulfill the role, publicly and efficiently. Love is irrelevant. Affection is irrelevant. Commitment on paper—that is all that matters."
Serena's hands shook as she gripped the folder. Everything she had fought to protect, everything her family had built—it all depended on this moment. Thirty days. If she refused, everything would be gone.
Swallowing hard, she looked at him and said, almost in a whisper, "I… I'll do it. But only to save my family."
Lucas's expression softened slightly—just enough to make her doubt herself for a heartbeat. "That's all I ask," he said smoothly. "We begin immediately."
The room around them seemed to disappear as whispers rose and glasses clinked. She felt eyes on her from every corner, judging, curious, shocked. She had signed away her freedom, but for now, Serena had a single goal: survive this marriage and save her family's empire.
But as she looked up at Lucas, she realized with a shiver that surviving him—this man who commanded a room with a glance—would be far more difficult than saving her family.
And just like that, her life had changed forever.