Sold to the Devil CEO

The air inside the grand office was thick with tension. Lena Carter stood rigid, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as she faced the man who now controlled her fate.

Damien Blackwood.

He was exactly as the rumors described-towering, devastatingly handsome, and utterly terrifying. His sharp, chiseled features remained emotionless, but his steel-gray eyes bore into her, stripping away every layer of her resolve.

"This is a joke, right?" Lena's voice was steady, though her insides churned with panic. "My father wouldn't just... sell me."

Damien leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, but he did." His voice was deep, smooth, laced with cruel amusement. "And considering the millions he owes me, I'd say you're quite the bargain."

Lena's breath hitched. She had spent the last three months watching her family's finances crumble. Her father had hidden the truth until it was too late-until the debts piled so high that there was only one way out.

Her.

She swallowed hard. "You can't force me into this."

Damien stood, rounding his desk with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped just inches from her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I don't force people, Lena," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I make offers they can't refuse."

She wanted to fight, to argue, but deep down, she knew the truth. If she walked away, her father would be ruined. Their home, their business-everything would be gone.

Her eyes flickered to the sleek black folder on Damien's desk. The contract.

"What exactly do you want from me?" she whispered.

Damien tilted her chin up with a single finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You'll be my wife. In name, at least."

Lena's heart slammed against her ribs. "Marriage?"

He nodded. "A contract marriage. Six months. You'll do as I say, attend events, play the devoted wife." His eyes darkened. "No questions. No disobedience."

She swallowed, her mind racing. "And after six months?"

"You walk away. Debt-free. Untouched-if that's what you want."

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. She should have felt relief at his last words. Instead, an unfamiliar heat curled in her stomach.

This man was dangerous. Not just because of his power, but because, in that moment, she feared he could make her want to stay.

Lena drew in a shaky breath. "Fine. I'll do it."

A victorious gleam flickered in Damien's eyes. He reached into a drawer, pulling out a sleek contract.

"Then sign, Mrs. Blackwood. The devil always keeps his promises."

Lena hesitated, staring at the inked lines that would bind her to him. The elegant scrawl of his signature already marked the page, sealing his control over her life.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen.

A signature. That's all it would take to surrender herself to him.

Her throat tightened, doubt clawing at her mind. Was this really the only way?

"Tick-tock, sweetheart." Damien's deep voice cut through her thoughts. "I don't have all night."

Lena inhaled sharply. Then, with a final push of courage, she pressed the pen to the paper.

The moment her name formed in ink, Damien took the contract from her hands and closed it with a snap.

A slow smirk stretched across his lips.

"Welcome to hell, Mrs. Blackwood."

Lena's fingers trembled as she set the pen down. The weight of what she had just done settled over her like a suffocating blanket.

She had sold herself.

Damien Blackwood watched her with a quiet intensity, his thumb running over the edge of the contract before tucking it neatly into a drawer. He had won.

"Pack your things," he said smoothly, as if they had just finalized a simple business transaction. "You'll be moving into my penthouse tonight."

Lena's heart stuttered. "Tonight?"

He arched a brow. "Do you need an invitation, sweetheart?"

"I-" She swallowed hard. "I thought I'd have time to... adjust."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, dark and rich. "Adjust?" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You signed your name, Lena. That was your adjustment period."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She clenched her hands at her sides, refusing to let him see how deeply his presence unsettled her. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "I'll go home, pack my things, and-"

"No need." Damien turned and strode toward the massive office doors. "Your things are already being handled. You belong to me now. And I don't like waiting."

Lena's stomach twisted. You belong to me now.

The words wrapped around her throat like a noose, but before she could respond, the doors swung open.

A tall, older man stepped in-broad-shouldered, sharply dressed, with a professional but unreadable expression.

"Mr. Blackwood," he addressed Damien with a nod. "The penthouse is ready."

Damien glanced at Lena, as if daring her to object. "Good. Escort my wife-to-be home and make sure she arrives at my residence without delay."

Lena's head snapped up. Wife-to-be. The words sent an unfamiliar chill through her veins.

"I can leave on my own," she protested.

The older man, who she now assumed was Damien's assistant or driver, remained stoic. "Mr. Blackwood insists."

Lena bit the inside of her cheek. She was in deep-so deep she couldn't see a way out. But if Damien thought she would bow and obey like a tamed pet, he had another thing coming.

Her silence must have amused him because Damien's lips curled at the edges. "You'll learn soon enough, Lena. In my world, resistance is pointless."

She glared at him, hating how effortlessly he pulled the strings of her life. "And in my world," she shot back, "devils always fall."

His smirk widened.

"We'll see."

And with that, Lena Carter was escorted out of the office, stepping into a future she never saw coming.

Lena sat in the back of the sleek black car, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, but her mind wasn't on the view.

It was on him.

Damien Blackwood.

His name alone sent a chill through her veins. A man known for his ruthless business dealings, a man who controlled everything and everyone around him-including her now.

Her father had gambled and lost. And she was the price he had to pay.

She exhaled shakily, trying to push away the anger bubbling inside her.

"This is insane," she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon, Miss Carter?"

Lena glanced up at the driver-Damien's assistant, she assumed. His expression was unreadable, his tone neutral.

"Nothing," she said flatly, turning her gaze back to the window.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, hesitating for a moment before answering.

"Lena?" Her father's voice came through, hoarse and full of guilt.

She gritted her teeth. "Don't. Just don't."

"I-I didn't have a choice," he stammered.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "No choice? You had a thousand choices before it came to this."

"I was desperate," he pleaded. "I never meant to drag you into this, sweetheart. But Damien-he's not a man you can say no to."

Her grip tightened around the phone. She knew that now.

"Lena," her father continued, voice breaking, "just do what he says. Survive. Six months. That's all."

Six months felt like a lifetime.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I have to go."

Before he could respond, she ended the call and tossed the phone aside.

The car slowed as they approached a towering, glass-walled building that seemed to pierce the night sky. The Blackwood Tower.

Her new home.

The driver stepped out first, opening the door for her.

Lena hesitated. Walking into that building meant stepping into a world where she had no control.

But she couldn't let Damien see her fear.

She lifted her chin, exhaling softly before stepping out.

The moment her heels touched the ground, a presence made her still.

Damien stood by the entrance, watching her with unreadable eyes. Dressed in his signature black suit, he exuded power and danger.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood."

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

She met his gaze head-on. She might be trapped, but she wouldn't be broken.

Not by him.

Not by anyone.