Romance

Suspense

Mafia

Billionaire

Goodgirl

Possessive

contract marriage

Childhood Sweetheart

Chapter 1: The Ghost at My Door

Chapter 2: Paper Shield

“You’ve changed a lot,” she whispered, barely speaking above a murmur.
“No… not at all,” he replied, stepping into her apartment as if he owned the place. His presence filled every corner of the room. “I’m just revealing my real self.”
Mara stood frozen in the middle of her small living room, clutching her phone as if it could protect her. Leaks had wrecked and stained the walls over the years. She felt even more ashamed of her crumbling apartment in his presence. Her childhood friend, who had vanished from her life without a word, had suddenly reappeared.
Damon Blackwood.
That name had always sounded terrifying to her. Back then, she was the little girl who fought against bullies to protect Damon, and he was the scared boy who hid behind her, with bruises.
But the man standing before her was not the Damon she once knew.
The suit he wore looked expensive enough to buy everything she owned. His hair, which used to be unkempt and soft, was now slicked back, shiny, and sharp. His grey eyes that looked stormy before now looked glacial, like a lion’s eyes; there were no feelings of sorrow, no traces of boyishness, no smile, only cold like steel.
“What brings you here?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He walked in like he controlled everything, closing the door behind him. She flinched at the sound.
“You were being followed.”
Mara blinked in confusion. “Excuse me? What do you mean I was being followed?”
“There were men outside surrounding your building,” he said, pulling a folded photo from his coat pocket and placing it on the table. “I handled one of them before he made his move.”
A chill ran down her spine as she looked at the photo. It was a blurry image of her walking home with groceries… and behind her, a man in a hoodie. Following her.
“What… is this? Are you spying on me?”
Damon didn’t answer. Instead, he scanned her apartment thoroughly. He hit the wall hard with his hand, causing her empty fridge to swing open and the mattress to shift.
“You should’ve asked for my help. You know I would have done it, Mara.”
“To ask for help?” Her voice cracked. “You disappeared for six years, Damon! No calls, no texts, no letters. And now you show up and act like you cared.”
“I do care.” He stepped closer—too close. She could smell the cologne and danger emanating from him. “That’s why I’m here. You’re not safe anymore.”
She scoffed, stepping back. “I’ve never been safe in my life. I can survive my struggles without your mafia money. I’m fine.”
  
  He flinched slightly at the mention of the word “mafia.” She wasn’t stupid. She heard the rumors, the headlines, and the murder of his father.  And how Damon suddenly rose to become the new CEO afterward. “Clearly, he was more than just a businessman.”
  
  “Why now?” she asked. “Why today?”
  
  He stared at her for a long moment before responding. “Because they found out about you.”
  
  Mara’s legs trembled. She slowly sat on the edge of the mattress. “Who found out about me, and why are they looking for me? What did I do to them?”
  
  “My enemies. They believe that killing you will break me.” He crouched down before her. “I won’t let that happen. I will protect you,” he said softly.
  
  She blinked twice and then broke down in tears. The last time he had knelt before her was when they were kids, making her a crown of dandelions and calling her his queen.
  
  Now that he had become the king of ruthless killing, without fear, without mercy, telling her he would protect her felt like a prank to her.
  
  “What do you really want from me, Damon?” she asked.
  
  “A marriage,” he replied, taking out a folder from his coat and handing it to her.
  
  A long silence fell between them. It felt as if everything around them had stopped for a moment.
Mara hesitated before opening it.
Her breath caught.
“A marriage contract”.
Her eyes widened as she stared at the contract, a mix of fear and desperation swirling in her chest.
“Excuse me? What is the meaning of this?” she asked, confused.
  
  “A contract marriage,” he explained, as if it were a business deal. “We will announce our engagement to the world, making it public. We will pretend to be a genuine couple in public. You’ll live under my protection, and no one will dare to touch you. You’ll have guards, a new identity, power, and authority.” He paused. “It’s the only way for me to protect you.”
  
  “You must be joking. You can’t be serious about what you’re saying right now.”
  
  “I’m not, Mara. I’m dead serious about this.”
  
  She looked at the contract. His name appeared neatly written next to hers. Everything felt surreal. Marriage? To Damon? Engaged to him? The boy who used to borrow her comic books and novels, who held her hand when she cried?
  
  Now, he is proposing, not even a genuine marriage but a fake one and he would legally inscribe her name beside his to protect her from murder. “Oh, so you want me to sign a marriage contract to become your doll, your cage pet, or a chess piece in your game? Impossible, Damon, you are heartless. You are wicked and ruthless,” she said, raising her voice.
  
  He clenches his jaw tightly. “No, it’s not what you think. I didn’t mean it that way, Mara. He said in a low voice. Please try to understand. If you agree to this, trust me, you will become untouchable.”
  
Say yes, please. Just for now. He said, stepping closer to her. His presence is overwhelming.
She swallowed hard. “And if I don’t?”
He looked her dead in the eyes. “You’ll die, Mara. And I’ll burn down everything that touches you.”
She looked shocked. Why will I die when I didn’t commit a crime? Mara asked.
The Morales organization already knows everything about you. They knew we spent our childhood together and you are the only one who is related to me.
Her heart ached with what he just said she already knows he has no family or relatives, just him.
 “That was then, the past is always the past. But we are adults now and we can decide what we ever want, let’s pretend we didn’t know each other. Let’s see each other as strangers from now on that will be better since you are back. I have no entanglement with you anymore. I’m not signing any fucking contract with you, I can survive on my own.” She said.
“You can’t this time the outside is dangerous, you are not save anymore, they are still lurking around your apartment,” Damon said.
No. The dangerous one is…. You Damon, not the outside you showed up suddenly and proposed a contract marriage. Do you think I will buy that? What’s your scheme? She retorted.
He looked frozen. “He felt like a dagger had stabbed his heart.”
I’m sorry. I…. I want to protect you. His eyes flashed with a hint of pain, and for a moment, Mara saw a glimmer of the boy he used to be. “You are the only one who remains for me. That’s why I’m doing this. Please trust me. He said. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, each second stretching out like an eternity.
The silence stretched.
Mara's heart softened
  He wasn’t lying. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t asking for a romantic relationship; this was a strategic agreement concerning safety and survival. But a part of her still clung to their childhood memories. The warm hands that used to hold hers, the laughter they shared, and the late-night stories they told each other. The feeling still ached.
  
  “We can terminate it after the war ends,” he added. “But for now, I need the world to believe you are mine.”
  
  Mara stood up and began pacing the room, her thoughts spiraling.
  
  Can I do this? Marry a man I haven’t seen in six years? Could this be possible? Trust someone who abandoned me? Even if it’s for my safety? She mumbled to herself.
She turned back to him. He remained still, just kneeling there, watching her, waiting for her response.
“Why me? Why me, Damon?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face once more. “I just want to live a normal life. I don’t want to be entangled in the crisis between you and your enemy, and now I barely know the person you’ve become.”
He looked up, seeing tears falling from her cheeks. His heart sank, feeling a sharp pain in his chest as if it were being squeezed for the first time in six years. His icy gaze softened, and care replaced his ruthlessness.
“Because you’re the only thing I have left that matters. You are the only one I want to risk everything for, even if it costs my life,” he said, standing up, moving to her side, and gently wiping the tears from her soft cheeks.
Her breath hitched. His words settled like dust in her chest. Not a romantic relationship, not even kind, but honest. Just like a business deal.
Finally, she whispered, “Fine. But only if there are rules.”
“Name them.”
“No touching. No lies. And when it ends, it ends.”
Damon nodded once. “Okay.”
She walked toward the table and picked up the pen.
“If I do this…” she hesitated. “What will happen to me?”
“You will stop being the target,” he said. “And you will start becoming someone they fear.”
She hesitated, then tightened her fingers around the pen and signed the contract.
“Done,” she said.
Later That Night…
The rain began just after midnight. Mara sat on her tiny mattress; the signed contract lay beside her, and she felt weak in her bones because of the weight of the situation.
Damon stood by the window, watching the street like a wolf king guarding its territory.
“I don’t know who you are anymore,” she whispered.
He didn’t turn around. “I don’t either.”
Silence filled the room.
But deep in her chest, something unlocked within her. It wasn’t fear. Not hope either.
But something far more dangerous.


Mara was reaching for a book on the top shelf of the library when the old ladder she was on suddenly wobbled. Her hand brushed against a sharp metal edge, and she felt a sting as a small cut opened up on her skin.She was pressing a clean cloth to it when Damon entered.He paused at the entrance, his eyes catching sight of her injured hand. “You’re hurt,” he said.“It’s nothing,” she replied quickly.He walked over to her, taking her hand gently. His grip was strong and reassuring. Without saying much, he led her to a worn leather sofa and pulled out a small black medical kit from a nearby drawer.Mara watched him as he cleaned her cut. He was quick and careful, not saying a word. The only sounds in the room were their breaths, and the atmosphere felt thick and charged.He carefully placed a bandage over her palm, his thumb brushing lightly against the edge of the gauze, keeping the contact just a moment longer. It felt warm and solid.Mara’s heart raced.For that brief instant, all the worries about contracts, enemies, and betrayals faded into the background. It was just the two of them, a silent understanding shared only through touch.Then he pulled away.“Be more careful,” he said softly.She nodded, feeling a tingle in her hand.He left without another word.---Later, Elias found her in the garden. His gaze immediately landed on her bandaged hand.“Training accident?” he inquired.“Just a book ladder,” she said.A small smile appeared on his face. “Even books can be dangerous around here.”He didn’t push for more. He never did.Today, he was teaching her about the importance of listening—not just with her ears, but with her whole body. He helped her learn to sense changes in the air before someone entered a room, to feel a presence before even seeing it.“Your instincts are your first warning,” he told her. “Trust them.”She remembered Damon’s gentle touch and the way their silence had felt more meaningful than any spoken words.“What if your instincts lead you astray?” she asked.“Then you’re in more danger than you think.”That night, Mara found another note.It was tucked under her pillow. The handwriting was Isla’s.He’s not who you think. The safe is behind the painting. Look. — IMara’s hands trembled.He. Damon? Elias?The safe is behind the painting.She knew the one. The large portrait of Damon’s father is in the study. Cold eyes. A cruel mouth.She thought of Damon’s hands. Gentle on her wound. She thought of his warning. Don’t trust him more than me.She thought of Elias’s calm. His patience.One of them was lying.She burned the note. Watched the flames eat the words.But the doubt remained.A splinter in her mind.The game was changing.And she was no longer just a player.She was the prize.

Mafia Childhood Obsession: A Billionaire’s Contract Marriage

Chapter 17: The Wound and the Whisper