Chapter 4: Fate Sealed

Elena's Point Of View

The sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. Each step was deliberate, a fragile attempt to hold myself together while the words from earlier that morning looped ominously in my head.

“You’re dealing with Nicholas De Luca?” the man I’d hired to verify the contract had asked, his voice dropping to a hushed, almost reverent tone. “If I were you, I wouldn’t play games. He’s not the kind of man you want to cross.”

When I pressed for more information, his lips had pressed into a thin line, as if even speaking De Luca’s name aloud was enough to summon trouble. That was all I got out of him, a cryptic warning and an iron-clad confirmation that the contract binding me to this nightmare was, indeed, legally bulletproof.

Now, as I gripped the steering wheel of my car and navigated the city streets, I could feel the weight of that warning sitting heavy in my chest. Today was the last day. The deadline had arrived, and there was no more room for procrastination or fantasies of escape.

The office building loomed ahead, a towering structure of sleek glass and steel that glinted in the afternoon sun. I parked, taking a moment to glance at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My makeup was still intact, but my eyes betrayed the storm raging inside me. I forced a deep breath, gave myself one last glance, and stepped out of the car.

The receptionist barely looked up when I entered, her polished nails clacking against the keyboard. “I’m here to see Nicholas De Luca, kindly let him know Elena Torres is here to see him” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Her head snapped up at the mention of his name, and her expression softened into something oddly respectful. “Mrs. De Luca,” she greeted, the words hitting me like a slap. “He’s expecting you. Go right in.”

Mrs. De Luca? The title made my stomach churn, but I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to a mistake. I had bigger issues to deal with.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt endless. With every ding, my nerves ratcheted tighter, and by the time the doors slid open, my palms were damp.

The office was expansive, a blend of modern minimalism and old-world grandeur. The furniture was sleek, the walls adorned with abstract art, but it was the man standing by the floor-to-ceiling window who commanded all my attention.

Nicholas De Luca.

He turned slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. And God help me, he was beautiful. His tailored suit fit him perfectly, the dark fabric accentuating his broad shoulders and the sharp lines of his frame. His face was a masterpiece.... strong jawline, high cheekbones, and eyes that were so piercingly blue they seemed to see straight through me.

For a moment, I forgot why I was here. My breath caught in my throat as my gaze lingered on the way the light caught his dark hair, the way his lips curved ever so slightly into a smirk.

“Take a picture,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “It’ll last longer.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, snapping me out of my daze. I straightened my spine, refusing to let him rattle me. “I didn’t come here to admire the view.”

“No?” He crossed the room, each step measured, his presence radiating power and control. “Then why are you here, Elena?”

My name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine, but I quickly buried it under the anger simmering in my chest. “I want to know why you’re doing this. Why me?”

He stopped a few feet away, his gaze locking onto mine. “Do you think this is about you?” His voice was cold, detached. “This isn’t anything personal, Elena. It’s business. A debt owed and a debt paid.”

“And buying a wife is your idea of settling debts?” I shot back, my voice trembling with frustration.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? You can't call yourself my wife, This isn’t about love or some fairy-tale fantasy. You’re a means to an end. Don’t make it more than it is.”

His words hit like a slap, and I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my composure. “Fine, if u must agree to this arrangement, I have conditions,” I said finally, my voice firmer now.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Conditions?”

“Yes.” I met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him intimidate me. “If I’m agreeing to this absurd arrangement, I want certain boundaries in place for my safety.”

His laugh was low and humorless, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. “Let me make something clear.” He stepped closer, his towering presence forcing me to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “You’re not in a position to make demands. This marriage will happen on my terms, and my terms only.”

He reached for a folder on his desk and slammed it onto the surface between us. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent room. “The contract,” he said, his tone sharp. “Sign it.”

My hands trembled as I picked up the pen, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a physical force. The words blurred together as I scanned the document, my heart pounding in my ears.

“Sign it, Elena,” Nicholas repeated, his voice a command that brooked no argument.

With a deep breath, I scrawled my signature at the bottom of the page, the pen scratching against the paper like nails on a chalkboard.

Nicholas picked up the contract, his eyes flicking over my signature before he gave a curt nod. “Good.”

I started to turn, desperate to escape the suffocating tension in the room, but his voice stopped me cold.

“Pack your things.”

I turned back to him, confusion and anger bubbling to the surface. “What?”

“My driver will pick you up tonight,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate. “You’ll move into my home. This starts now.”

“You can’t....”

He raised a hand, silencing me with a single gesture. “Don’t mistake this for a negotiation, Elena.” His gaze was ice. “You’ve made your choice. Now live with it.”

Fury burned in my chest, but I swallowed it down, knowing there was no point in arguing. With one last glare, I spun on my heel and stormed out of the office, my mind racing with the reality of what I’d just done.

As the elevator doors closed behind me, I made a silent promise to myself. This wouldn’t be the submissive, one-sided arrangement Nicholas De Luca thought it would be.

If he wanted a fight, I’d give him one.