The first thing she noticed when she stepped in was how quiet the room was. Too quiet… it felt ominous.
It was peaceful…and empty
The kind of silence that pressed against her ears until her chest felt tight, that it felt difficult to breathe…
Ivy stood in the center of her aunt's living room, her fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her worn handbag. Trapped in and ominous silence.
The afternoon sun filtered in through lace curtains, but it did nothing to warm the air, everyone was seated— her aunt, her uncle, her cousin— but no one looked at her.
That's when the realization dawned on her.
Something wasn't right and she couldn't figure it out even by looking at the expressions on their faces.
Her aunt was the first to break the silence by speaking out her name.
"Ivy," her aunt finally said, clasping her hands together, her voice way too gentle.
"Sit down first." her aunt said.
But Ivy didn't move a muscle, she stood rooted to the floor, her expression neutral
Expecting the worst, her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears. "Just tell me," she asked. "What is it?"
Her uncle cleared his throat. "There's no easy way to say this."
Of course there isn't. Ivy bit her lip to numb some of the heavy in her heart.
"There's an opportunity…" her cousin added quickly, avoiding Ivy's eyes. "One that could… help all of us." her voice fades at the end.
Ivy let out a humorless laugh and wears a mocking smile.
"You don't invite someone over like this for an opportunity."
Nobody argued. It was true to refute.
Her aunt sighed, standing up and gesturing toward the couch. "Please, Ivy."
Still on her guard, Ivy slowly sat down.
Her palms were damp. Her stomach twisted. Heart racing. As if it already knew what her mind was refusing to accept.
Her uncle reached into a leather folder on the coffee table and pulled out a thick stack of papers. He placed them down carefully on the table, as though they were fragile…
Or dangerous.
"This," he said, tapping the documents, "is a marriage contract."
The words didn't register at first.
"A… what?" Ivy asked shocked.
"A marriage contract," her aunt repeated softly. "Between you and Mr. Adrian Blackwood."
The name landed like a slap. A jort to reality
Adrian Blackwood.
The billionaire heir —The cold CEO.
The man tabloids called heartless and ruthless… A devil in disguise.
Ivy shook her head slowly. "I think you all are confused."
"No. We're not." Her uncle said firmly.
Her cousin leaned forward. "He needs a wife. And you—"
"No!" Ivy interrupted, her voice rising. "Stop it. Please stop already"
Her chest burned. "You're joking! If this is a sick joke, it's not funny."
Her aunt's eyes glistened. "Ivy, please listen —"
"You're talking about me like I'm some commodity to be sold off for your own benefits! Like I don't even have a say in this" Ivy said, standing up abruptly. "You are selling me off, for what…" her voice breaks.
Silence fell again, thicker than the last.
Her uncle finally looked at her without a any remorse and guilt. "We wouldn't be doing this if we had another choice."
Ivy laughed, sharp and hollow. "You always have a choice."
"Not this time," he said firmly, like it was final.
Her aunt reached for Ivy's hand, but Ivy pulled away with disgust.
"Why?" Ivy demanded. "Why me? Just why…does it have to be me?" she looks at their face trying to find an answer.
Her cousin swallowed. "Because you're… you're suitable for… him?"
Suitable?. In what what? For him?
The word cut way too deep— more than she expected. Suitable?
Her uncle exhaled. "Mr. Blackwood's family approached us. They were very specific."
Ivy's skin prickled. "How specific were they that… you deemed me suitable?"
"They need someone," her aunt said carefully, "with no scandals. No public attachments. Someone… manageable."
Suitable. And now manageable? Ivy felt her throat tighten, but not from thirst.
"And because," her uncle added, his voice quieter now, "you don't have anyone who would fight this."
The words settled into her bones. They hit her harder than any car would in an accident. The words sank deep in her mind, engraved itself in her soul– "you don't have anyone who would fight this."
Her parents were gone. No siblings. No powerful connections.
Just her.
All alone. Disposable.
"You betrayed me…," Ivy whispered,pain evident in her voice
Her aunt looked away.
"We're trying to save this family," her uncle said. "If we don't accept this deal, we lose everything. The house. The company. Everything your parents worked for."
Ivy's breath caught.
They had promised. After her parents' accident, they had promised to protect what was left.
"And marrying a stranger… fixes all of that?" Ivy asked bitterly.
"He's not just a stranger," her cousin said. "He's one of the richest men in the country."
"And that's supposed to make this better?" Ivy questioned. It sounded ridiculous.
Her aunt's voice broke. "Ivy, please. It's only a marriage on paper nothing more."
Lies.
She knew it even before her aunt finished speaking.
"There are rules" her uncle continued, flipping through the contract.
"Clear boundaries. You will live separately within the estate. And no emotional obligations."
Ivy's voice trembled as she asks "So I'm… what? A placeholder?".
"No. You'll be a wife in name," her uncle said. "Nothing more."
Ivy stared at the papers quietly, looking through the words written on the document.
The words blurred together, but one sentence stood out, printed in bold—
Marriage duration: Three years minimum.
Three years.
Three years of her life—sold. Three years of being bound…in a marriage that could break her.
Ivy exhales softly trying to contain all the emotions she was feeling.
"What does he get out of this?" Ivy asked quietly.
Her aunt hesitated.
Her uncle answered instead. "Inheritance. Legal authority. Stability."
"Okay" Ivy replied.
"And what do I get from all this?." Ivy asked again.
No one spoke.
That was her answer. Silence it was…
A self mocking smile appears on her face.
Ivy stood up again, her legs weak and . "I won't do this." she said firmly.
Her uncle's jaw tightened. "If you refuse, the deal is off."
"And?"
"And the bank forecloses in thirty days."
Ivy felt her breath leave her lungs.
The house her parents died paying for.
The company her father built from nothing.
All gone.
Her aunt whispered, "We wouldn't ask if we weren't desperate."
Ivy felt something inside her crack.
"You already decided," she said. "Didn't you?"
Her cousin didn't deny it.
Her uncle slid the contract toward her. "We just need your signature."
Ivy looked at the pen.
It was silver. Heavy. Expensive.
Just like the man she was being handed to.
"Have you met him?" Ivy asked suddenly.
Her aunt shook her head. "No."
"So you're giving me to a man you don't even know."
Her uncle's voice was firm. "We know enough."
Ivy laughed weakly. "You know nothing."
She picked up the contract, flipping through the pages with shaking fingers.
No love clause.
No intimacy requirement.
Strict confidentiality.
And one line that made her stomach drop.
In the event of medical emergency, the spouse shall retain full legal authority.
Medical emergency?
Her eyes flicked up. "Why is this here?"
Her uncle stiffened. "Standard legal language."
She didn't believe him.
Something about this deal felt wrong. Too urgent. Too controlled.
"What happens if I refuse?" Ivy asked again, softer now.
Her aunt's voice trembled. "We lose everything."
Ivy closed her eyes.
She thought of her parents.
Their sacrifices.
Their faith in family.
Family.
The word tasted bitter.
Slowly, she picked up the pen.
Her hand hovered over the paper.
"This doesn't make me part of you," Ivy said quietly. "After this, I'm done."
Her aunt nodded through tears. "We understand."
Liar.
Ivy signed.
The moment the ink touched the paper, something inside her went numb.
Her uncle exhaled in relief. "Thank you."
Ivy stood up, her legs unsteady. "When do I meet him?"
Her cousin answered, "Tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
She turned toward the door, her chest aching.
"Ivy," her aunt called softly.
Ivy paused but didn't turn around.
"You'll be safe," her aunt said. "He's not cruel."
Ivy finally looked back, her eyes empty.
"You already were," she said.
She walked out without another word.
---
That night, Ivy sat alone in her small apartment, the city lights flickering outside her window. The contract lay open on her table, the signature at the bottom staring back at her.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Her heart skipped as she answered.
"Ms. Ivy Grant," a male voice said, calm and cold. "This is Adrian Blackwood."
Her breath caught.
"We'll be married soon," he continued. "I suggest you understand one thing now."
She gripped the phone tightly.
"This marriage will never involve love."
The line went dead.
Ivy stared at the screen—
unaware that the man she had just agreed to marry was hiding a secret that would soon bind her life to his in ways the contract never mentioned.
And that tomorrow, everything would change.