"Why me?" The question spilled out before I could stop it.
"Why not you?" His smirk was lethal. "You’re convenient. Pathetic, but convenient."
Humiliation burned in my chest, but I swallowed it down. I had no room for pride here.
"This isn’t marriage," I said through gritted teeth. "It’s blackmail."
"Call it what you like," he replied, brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve. "Sign it, Tiffany. Or don’t. I’ll still win."
I hated him. Hated the way he made me feel small. But above all, I hated how right he was.
The pen felt heavy in my hand. Each stroke of my name felt like a chain tightening around my neck. Nathaniel watched, a predator waiting for his prey to surrender.
When I finished, he picked up the contract, inspecting it as if I’d hidden some rebellion in the ink. Satisfied, he tucked it into his briefcase with a snap.
"Good girl." His words dripped with condescension.
: "I’m not your pet." My voice cracked, but I wouldn’t let him see my tears.
He ignored me, turning toward the door. But then he paused, his hand resting on the frame.