The document was heavier than it looked.
Regina stared at the folder resting on the polished mahogany table, its dark blue cover embossed with a silver crest she didn’t recognize—but somehow already hated. The room smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne. Everything about this place screamed power, control, and finality.
Across from her sat two lawyers. Beside her sat her parents.
Sasha was not there.
“You may review the terms,” the older lawyer said smoothly, sliding the folder closer to Regina. “Though the agreement has already been approved by both families.”
Approved.
Not *discussed*. Not *negotiated*.
Approved.
Regina’s fingers trembled as she opened the folder. Page after page of legal language stared back at her—clauses, conditions, obligations. She scanned them slowly, her chest tightening with every line.
**No public refusal.**
**No scandal.**
**No pregnancy prior to official announcement.**
**Obedience to public appearances as required.**
Her vision blurred.
“This is… a contract,” she said quietly. “Not a marriage.”
The younger lawyer smiled politely. “In families like yours, Miss Gray, there is no difference.”
Her mother placed a manicured hand over Regina’s wrist. The touch was light, almost affectionate—and completely restraining.
“This is an honor,” she said softly. “Do not embarrass us.”
Regina looked up at her father. “Have I ever?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
He didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
---
The Harrison estate loomed larger than Regina expected.
She stood at the gates later that afternoon, her breath shallow as she took in the towering iron bars, the perfectly trimmed hedges, the guards stationed like silent sentinels. This was where Damian Harrison lived.
Where her future had already begun—without her.
She wasn’t there to meet him.
Not yet.
This visit was symbolic, her mother had said. A reminder. A warning.
“The Harrisons value order,” her mother whispered as they walked the stone path. “You would do well to remember that.”
Inside, the house was quiet. Too quiet.
A staff member led them through corridors that felt cold despite the warm lighting. Regina’s footsteps echoed, each one sounding like a countdown.
She wondered what kind of man lived in a place like this.
Someone cruel?
Someone distant?
Someone who wouldn’t care that she had been forced into his life?
She almost hoped so. Indifference would hurt less than contempt.
“He is not here,” the staff member said finally. “Mr. Harrison is… occupied.”
Regina exhaled without realizing she’d been holding her breath.
Occupied.
The word lingered.
---
That night, Regina couldn’t sleep.
She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, the contract’s words replaying endlessly in her mind. Marriage. Duty. Silence.
She felt like she was slowly disappearing.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Sasha.
**Sasha:**
*I heard everything went smoothly today. I knew you’d handle it well.*
Regina stared at the screen, her fingers numb.
**Regina:**
*Did you ever consider saying no?*
The reply came almost instantly.
**Sasha:**
*Why would I? This is your strength, Regina. You endure. I shine.*
Regina closed her eyes.
That was it.
The final confirmation that she was alone.
---
By the third day, the walls felt like they were closing in.
Her lectures blurred together. Her notes made no sense. Even the library—once her refuge—felt suffocating.
That was when Harris approached her again.
“You don’t look well,” he said gently, sitting across from her.
“I’m fine,” Regina replied automatically.
He studied her for a moment. “You always say that. But you don’t mean it.”
She almost laughed. Almost cried.
“I just need… air,” she said suddenly, standing.
“Then take it,” Harris said. “Come out tonight. Just for a drink. No expectations.”
Regina hesitated.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind.
*No scandal. No mistakes.*
But something inside her snapped.
“One drink,” she said.
---
The bar was dimly lit, pulsing softly with music and life. It was nothing like the places her family frequented. No judgment. No expectations. Just strangers existing freely.
Regina felt out of place—and strangely alive.
She ordered a drink she’d never had before and sat alone, watching the crowd. For the first time in days, her chest loosened.
Then she felt it.
A presence.
She looked up.
He stood at the bar a few feet away, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, his posture relaxed in a way that felt dangerous. His face was half-shadowed, but his eyes—
They were watching her.
Not dismissively.
Not possessively.
Intently.
Regina’s breath caught.
There was something familiar about him. Not his face—she would have remembered that—but the weight of his gaze. Like he could see the fracture lines beneath her skin.
Their eyes met.
And the world seemed to tilt.
She didn’t know his name.
She didn’t know who he was.
She only knew one thing with terrifying certainty—
This man was about to change everything.
