The contract felt heavier than paper should.
I carried it with me out of the building, into the parking lot, and all the way home, like a wound I could not put down. By the time I reached my apartment, the sun had dipped low, staining the sky with bruised shades of orange and red.
Seven days.
Julian's voice echoed in my head with ruthless clarity.
You will marry me. Or you will lose everything.
I slammed my door shut and leaned against it, my heart hammering violently. My apartment was quiet, too quiet. No distractions. No escape. Just me and the past I had spent years pretending did not exist.
I dropped my bag on the floor and walked straight to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water with shaking hands. I drank half of it in one go, but the tightness in my chest did not ease.
I had rebuilt my life piece by piece after Julian.
The sleepless nights.
The therapy sessions I never told anyone about.
The years of proving I was more than the woman he discarded.
And now he was back, standing in my boardroom, threatening to erase it all with a signature and a smile.
I slid the contract out of my bag and placed it on the counter.
Marriage.
The word mocked me.
I flipped through the pages again, forcing myself to read every line carefully, even though my vision blurred.
Julian Blackwood would inject enough capital to stabilize Moore Holdings. He would assume majority control. In return, I would become his legal wife for a minimum of two years.
Public marriage.
Shared residence.
No clause for emotional obligation.
A business arrangement disguised as intimacy.
I laughed bitterly.
Even when he was offering marriage, Julian managed to make it feel like ownership.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
For a split second, I thought of ignoring it.
I did not.
Unknown number.
I already knew who it was.
You should read page twelve again.
My breath caught.
I flipped to page twelve with trembling fingers.
There it was.
A penalty clause.
If I refused, Julian would withdraw all pending negotiations and quietly acquire Moore Holdings through its creditors within six months.
A slow death.
Clean. Legal. Unstoppable.
My phone buzzed again.
I do not bluff, Ava.
I sank into a chair, my legs giving out beneath me.
This was not about love. It was not even about revenge.
This was about power.
And Julian had all of it.
I did not reply.
I could not give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I stood and walked to the window, staring out at the city lights below. Somewhere out there, people were laughing, living ordinary lives untouched by men like Julian Blackwood.
Once, I had believed I was special to him.
Once, I had believed love would be enough.
My mind drifted back to the night everything fell apart.
The gala.
The cameras.
The way he had looked at me like I was nothing more than a mistake he had finally corrected.
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, closing my eyes.
Never again, I had promised myself.
A knock on the door shattered the silence.
My heart leaped into my throat.
No one came unannounced. No one.
I checked the time. Almost nine.
The knock came again, firmer this time.
I hesitated before walking to the door, peering through the peephole.
My breath hitched.
Julian stood on the other side.
As if summoned by my fear.
I opened the door slowly.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded.
He looked past me into my apartment, his expression unreadable. "May I come in?"
"No."
His lips curved slightly. "You have always been bad at lying."
Before I could react, he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. The scent of him hit me instantly, familiar and dangerous. My pulse spiked against my will.
"You do not get to show up here," I said, backing away.
"I do," he replied calmly. "You are avoiding the inevitable."
I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "This ends now. I will not marry you."
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze sharp and assessing, like he was measuring cracks in armor he had once built himself.
"You are angry," he said. "That is understandable."
"Do not analyze me."
"You always hated when I was right."
The words scraped against old wounds.
"Leave," I said quietly.
Julian stepped closer, lowering his voice. "If you say no, Moore Holdings dies. Your father's legacy dies. You lose everything you worked for."
"You think I care more about a company than my dignity?"
"I think you care about survival," he answered. "And you always choose it."
I flinched.
Because he was right.
I turned away from him, gripping the edge of the counter. "You broke me," I said, my voice cracking despite my effort to keep it steady. "You do not get to come back and pretend this is business."
His silence pressed against my back.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower. Rougher.
"I never pretended it was not personal."
I faced him then, anger blazing. "Then why?"
His jaw tightened. For a brief moment, the mask slipped.
"Because I never stopped thinking about you," he said. "And because losing you was the one mistake I never corrected."
My chest ached.
Do not believe him.
Do not fall again.
"You had your chance," I said.
"And now I have another."
He reached into his jacket and placed a small velvet box on the counter beside the contract.
I stared at it.
"Do not," I warned.
He opened it.
Inside was a ring.
Simple. Elegant. Cruel in its timing.
"You planned this down to the last detail," I whispered.
"Yes."
"You do not feel shame?"
"I feel certainty."
I laughed, the sound breaking. "You are unbelievable."
Julian closed the box. "You have seven days."
He turned toward the door, then paused.
"This marriage will change everything," he said without looking back. "Including you."
The door closed behind him.
I sank onto the floor, my back against the cabinet, the ring box and contract staring at me like silent threats.
Seven days.
To choose between my past and my future.
Between freedom and ruin.
Between the man who broke me and the life I had fought to reclaim.
My phone buzzed one last time.
Sleep on it, wife.
I stared at the message, my hands shaking.
Because deep down, beneath the anger and fear, one terrifying truth surfaced.
Julian Blackwood had not come back to ask.
He had come back to claim it.
And if I said yes, there would be no turning back.