The Contract
Isla’s POV
I barely remembered the cab ride home. By the time I stumbled into my apartment, my legs were jelly and my skin still burned with the painful sting of that rope I had been tied with.
I slammed the door shut, locked every window and door, then dropped my bag onto the couch. My hands shook so badly the zipper almost tore out.
Safe.
At least, that’s what I told myself for now. After the hell of a night I had been through. “No more fucking charity gala’s Isla”, I murmured to myself.
But the silence in my apartment felt too wrong and too sharp for my liking. My chest coiled in knots at catching the sight of a shadow sliding across the far wall—too tall, too fast to be mine.
Before I could even scream, the air split with a crash. A man lunged from the darkness and I could barely have the time to think. “You made a bad choice by coming home tonight. Now you'll die alone.” He hissed.
Instinct forced me forward, my fist shot out, connecting with his jaw. Pain flared down my knuckles, but adrenaline took over. I kicked, shoving and grabbed the nearest thing I could—a lamp—and hurled it straight at him.
The crash of glass made my ears ring. “Fucking bitch!!” He cursed, staggering back in pain. My lungs seized, but I didn’t wait.
I bolted.
Bare feet echoing down the hallway as I ran down the stairs, heart pounding in my ribs. I didn’t look back, didn’t dare. My body was trembling, bruised, but survival was the only thing that mattered right now.
I stumbled out on the street, night air cut like knives against my skin. Spotted the phone booth like a knight in shining armor. My shaking hands ripped open the door, coins clattering from my pocket.
Damien Cross.
The card. My last lifeline right now is whether I still want to live. I dialed with trembling fingers, pressing the receiver to my ear. The line rang once. Twice.
“Please pick up.”
“For God’s sake….pick.”
My throat was closing, my chest rising and falling in heavy gasps when it finally clicked. “Damian….” My voice broke. “Please. Please, I can’t…. I’m ready to accept the deal. I’ll do anything.”
“I don’t want to die.”
The silence stretched, so thick it felt like the world was holding its breath. Then his voice cut through, low and controlled. Laced with that dangerous calmness that made my stomach twist.
“Guess you ran out of options. eeehhhh?”
“I’ll send my men.” He said coldly, then the line went dead.
A few minutes later, I stood before the tall iron gates, taller than anything I’d ever seen in my life. Beyond them stretched a private estate that looked less like a home and more like a castle.
I wanted to turn back, every nerve in me screaming to get the fuck out of here. But the card still burned in my grip, and the memory of last night’s attack stuck to my memory like glue.
Anything to survive, Isla.
I stepped forward, the gates opening with a loud creak. Inside, the air smelled of money and power, cold and suffocating.
There he was—Damian Cross, standing in the center of the marble-floored table, a document already in his hands as if he’d been waiting all night long.
“Welcome to your new home, princessa.” He hissed. No greeting. No smile. Just those gray eyes pinning me in place.
“Here are the rules.” He continued, laying the document across the table with ruthless precision. “Every move you make will be tracked. My men will follow you everywhere. No strangers are allowed near you. Not here, not even in your college, not anywhere.”
“That’s…..that’s insane.” My mouth went dry.
“One disobedience, “he continued, ignoring me like a ghost had just spoken. “And I’ll end you myself. Do you understand?”
The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My knees weakened, but I forced myself upright. I thought of the man in my apartment, that psychopath holding the knife at my throat last night.
Damian’s gunshot which is the reason I’m even still alive in the first place. I thought of survival. And I signed in an instant, black ink sealing my name beside his. My heart cracked with every stroke, but it had already been done.
I wasn’t Isla Mendez anymore.
I was Damian Cross’s wife. For a year. Married to the most ruthless and powerful man in the city, no matter where I tried to run or hide he would still find me.
Just accept your new fate, Isla. More of a better option than dying.
That night, the estate was quiet, too quiet. My new room was bigger than my entire apartment combined, its windows draped in gold, the bed carved from dark wood.
But no amount of luxury or wealth could change the truth: I was now trapped in a cage with a dangerous predator who marked me for who fucking knows!.
I sat on the edge of the bed, hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the inked mark on my wrist. It hasn’t faded even once since last night. If anything, it looked darker.
As if it had sunk deeper into my skin. My chest squeezed. I pressed my face into my hands, trying not to cry.
Then my phone buzzed.
I frowned. Only Damian’s people had this number now. But the screen showed Unknown Caller. My thumb hovered, but instinct won. I pressed accept.
“You think signing that paper will save you?” A low voice cut through. Low and rough. Was Damian trying to test me? Is this some fucking new trial I had to pass as his so-called wife?
“Do you even know why he marked you that night?” He continued.
“What…what do you mean?” My voice shook, breaking. “Who the hell are you?” I asked. But then the line went silent.
A faint laugh. Cold. Knowing echoed into my ears as I held the phone with my shaking hands.“Damian Cross doesn’t just mark anyone by mistake. And when you find out why he chose you…”
The voice dropped lower, deadly. “…you’ll wish you’d died before signing that contract with him.”




























