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London’s skyline stretched before Sophia Lancaster as she sat in the grand sitting room of the Lancaster estate. The crystal chandelier above her sparkled, but its brilliance did nothing to ease the cold dread settling in her chest.

Her father, Jonathan Lancaster, sat across from her, his piercing gaze unwavering. "The decision has been made, Sophia. You will marry Sebastian Blackwood."

Sophia’s fingers tightened around the armrest of her chair. "You can’t be serious," she said, her voice controlled but laced with disbelief.

Her mother, Eleanor Lancaster, sighed. "Darling, this is not just about you. The Lancasters are on the verge of losing everything. Blackwood Enterprises is willing to invest in us—but only on one condition."

"And that condition is me?" Sophia’s voice rose slightly. "You want me to marry a stranger to save your business?"

Her father’s expression didn’t waver. "Sebastian Blackwood is not just any man. He’s one of the most powerful businessmen in London. This marriage benefits both families."

Sophia let out a bitter laugh. "Benefits? For whom? I don’t recall agreeing to be auctioned off like a commodity."

Jonathan’s patience thinned. "One year, Sophia. That’s all I ask. A trial marriage. If things don’t work out, you’ll be free to leave."

"A contract marriage? Like some business deal?" she scoffed.

"That’s exactly what it is," her father said. "Sebastian has agreed to the same terms."

Sophia clenched her jaw. She had heard of Sebastian Blackwood—the cold, ruthless CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. The man who built an empire with his icy demeanor and relentless ambition. He was infamous for rejecting any emotional ties. Why would someone like him agree to such a ridiculous arrangement?

Her mother reached out, placing a gentle hand on hers. "We wouldn’t ask you if there were another way. Please, Sophia. Think of our family."

Sophia’s heart pounded. She had spent her whole life being the perfect daughter, following their rules, meeting their expectations. But this? This was a step too far.

Yet, as she looked into her father’s hardened gaze, she realized—she had no choice.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke.

"When do I meet him?"

Later That Evening

The Blackwood estate was nothing short of a fortress—dark, imposing, and built for a king. As Sophia stepped out of the sleek black car, the weight of reality settled heavily on her shoulders.

A butler led her into the study, where Sebastian Blackwood stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her. He turned slowly, and the moment their eyes met, Sophia felt her breath hitch.

He was devastatingly handsome—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. But it was his piercing blue eyes that held her captive—cold, unreadable, yet dangerously captivating.

"Miss Lancaster," he greeted, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I assume you know why you’re here."

Sophia straightened her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. "I do. And I assume you’re just as unwilling as I am."

A smirk ghosted across his lips. "That depends. Marriage is a business deal. If we play our roles well, we both win."

She hated how indifferent he sounded, as if their marriage was nothing more than a transaction.

"You really don’t believe in love, do you?" she asked.

Sebastian stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Love is an illusion. But power? That’s real."

Sophia’s heart pounded, not from fear—but from the realization that she had just stepped into a dangerous game.

And she had no idea who would win.

Sophia sat across from Sebastian Blackwood in his dimly lit study, the silence between them thick with tension. In front of them lay a pristine white document—their marriage contract.

Sebastian picked up a sleek fountain pen and spun it between his fingers. "The terms are simple," he said smoothly. "One year. Public appearances as a married couple. No interference in each other’s personal lives."

Sophia folded her arms. "And what happens at the end of the year?"

"You walk away. No strings attached."

Her heart clenched. No mention of love, trust, or companionship. Just a cold, calculated arrangement.

She let out a soft scoff. "Sounds like a business merger rather than a marriage."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk. "Because that’s exactly what it is."

Sophia’s fingers tightened around the edge of her chair. She had always imagined marriage to be a union of hearts, built on passion and devotion. But this? This was a contract—an obligation.

Still, she had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the pen. "Fine," she said, signing her name with swift determination.

Sebastian followed suit, his signature bold and confident.

And just like that, she became Mrs. Blackwood.

The Wedding That Wasn’t

The next morning, London’s high society woke up to the shocking headlines:

**"Heiress Sophia Lancaster Marries Business Mogul Sebastian Blackwood in Private Ceremony!"**

But there was no grand wedding. No flowers, no vows, no romantic first dance. Only a quiet legal ceremony in the Blackwood estate, attended by a handful of witnesses.

As Sophia stood beside Sebastian, facing the officiant, she felt oddly detached. The words “I do” left her lips, but they felt foreign.

Sebastian slipped a ring onto her finger—an expensive yet impersonal band, its diamond glittering under the chandelier.

When the officiant finally declared them husband and wife, Sophia braced herself, expecting at least a formal kiss. Instead, Sebastian simply nodded.

"It’s done," he murmured, turning away as if he had just closed another business deal.

Sophia clenched her jaw. *Heartless bastard.*

Moving In With the Devil

By evening, Sophia found herself in the master bedroom of Sebastian’s penthouse—a cold, luxurious space that screamed power and control.

Sebastian loosened his tie and glanced at her. "Your room is next door. I assume you prefer your own space?"

Sophia lifted her chin. "I do."

"Good. I don’t like unnecessary attachments."

She smirked. "You mean emotions?"

Sebastian didn’t reply. Instead, he stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers.

"Let’s make one thing clear, Sophia," he said in a low, deliberate voice. "I don’t care what you do, as long as you don’t cause trouble for me."

Sophia refused to look away. "Right back at you, Mr. Blackwood."

A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes before he turned away. "Dinner is at eight. Don’t be late."

As the door closed behind him, Sophia exhaled sharply.

She had just married a man who didn’t believe in love.

And somehow, she was going to survive it.

Sophia stood in front of the grand dining table, eyeing the extravagant spread of gourmet dishes. The Blackwood estate’s dining hall was larger than most restaurants, with a long mahogany table that could seat twenty. Yet tonight, it seated only two—her and Sebastian.

Sebastian sat at the head of the table, effortlessly elegant in his black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal strong forearms. He sipped his wine, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Sit," he said simply.

Sophia held his gaze for a moment before pulling out the chair beside him. A butler poured her a glass of red wine, and she took a small sip, letting the silence between them stretch.

"Are all our dinners going to be this formal?" she asked, setting down her glass.

Sebastian smirked slightly. "Would you prefer candlelight and sweet nothings?"

Sophia huffed. "No, but a little normal conversation wouldn’t hurt."

He leaned back in his chair. "Alright. Let’s talk. What do you expect from this marriage?"

Sophia hesitated. "Freedom, once the contract ends."

"Good. That makes two of us."

The coldness in his voice made something tighten in her chest. Did he truly feel nothing?

She picked up her fork, stabbing a piece of steak. "What about you? Do you even want to be married?"

Sebastian’s blue eyes darkened. "Marriage is a means to an end."

Sophia arched a brow. "And what end is that?"

He swirled his wine lazily. "Stability. The board trusts a married man more than a bachelor with a ruthless reputation."

She frowned. "So I’m just… convenient?"

He didn’t deny it.

Sophia let out a dry laugh. "Well, congratulations. You found yourself the perfect trophy wife."

Sebastian placed his glass down with a soft clink, his gaze sharp. "You’re not a trophy, Sophia. You’re an asset."

Her stomach twisted. An asset.

She had expected an arranged marriage to be devoid of love, but she hadn’t realized how transactional it would feel.

Sebastian Blackwood didn’t just avoid love. He didn’t believe in it.

And for the first time since signing that contract, Sophia wondered—

What happens when I start wanting more?

Later That Night

Sophia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The penthouse was silent, the only sound the occasional honk of London traffic far below.

She turned to look at the empty space beside her. Not that she expected Sebastian to be here—they had separate rooms. Separate lives.

And yet, something about him unsettled her.

There was more to Sebastian Blackwood than he let on.

And Sophia Lancaster had just become his wife.

For better or for worse.

......................

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