Chapter One: The Contract
The city lights shimmered against the windowpane of the upscale restaurant on the 47th floor of the Vellum Tower. I sat across from a man whose presence made the air feel heavier, thicker. Damien Knight. Thirty-nine, CEO of Knight Global Holdings, ruthless in the boardroom, enigmatic in every tabloid rumor, and the man who just slid a black velvet envelope across the table toward me.
“You don’t have to decide now,” he said, voice smooth like aged whiskey. “But I don’t do halfway, Savannah. If you agree to this... I expect your full commitment.”
My fingers trembled as I opened the envelope. Inside was a sleek contract. Three pages. Simple but direct. Monthly allowance: $20,000. Housing: a penthouse suite in Midtown. Rules: no dating anyone else, no lying, always answer his calls. Emotional involvement: optional—but strongly implied.
I stared at the document, feeling like I’d stumbled into a novel instead of my own life.
“You’re serious?” I whispered.
Damien leaned back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. “You’re smart, beautiful, struggling to pay off student loans and take care of your little brother. I’m offering a solution, not a trap.”
I clenched my jaw. I hated that he was right. Ever since my parents died, I’d been juggling two jobs and barely scraping by. My younger brother, Jayden, needed stability—something I couldn’t provide no matter how hard I tried.
Damien had noticed me three weeks ago at the lounge where I worked part-time. He had waited until the end of my shift to talk to me, handed me a business card, and said: “Call me if you want to stop struggling.”
I never called. But he kept showing up. Watching. Waiting.
And somehow, I was here now, staring at a contract that could change my life.
“If I say yes...” I murmured, still unsure. “What happens next?”
His eyes darkened. “Then you belong to me. No secrets. No lies. Just me and you.”
My heart skipped. Not because I was scared—but because some twisted part of me liked the way he said it.
---
Chapter Two: The Collar
I signed the contract the next morning.
My hands shook the whole time, but when I handed it back, Damien didn’t smile. Instead, he stepped closer and pulled out a delicate silver necklace with a tiny black onyx stone.
“This is not just jewelry,” he said. “It’s a symbol. When you wear this, everyone will know you’re mine.”
He fastened it around my neck like it was a ritual.
“You like control,” I said, half-joking.
“I don’t like it,” he corrected. “I need it.”
His tone was calm, but his eyes burned with an intensity I wasn’t ready for.
---
The next few days moved quickly. Damien’s people took over my life. My old apartment was packed up, Jayden was moved into a better school, and I was settled into the kind of luxury I’d only seen on Instagram. A personal driver, shopping allowances, and a private chef.
But nothing came free—not even this.
Damien called every night. Sometimes just to hear my voice. Sometimes to remind me I was his. Other times, he didn’t call at all—only to appear at my door five minutes later, eyes wild, hands possessive, like he’d been losing his mind without me.
“You didn’t text me back,” he’d growl.
“I was in the shower,” I’d say.
“I don’t care. You answer me.”
It wasn’t just about money anymore. It was about him. The way he looked at me like I was something rare. Something he refused to share with the world.
And even though I knew I should have been scared—I wasn’t.
I was addicted.
