His Mysterious Heart; The more she discovers,The harder she falls.

Evelyn Carter sat in the dimly lit café, her fingers wrapped around a now-cold cup of coffee. The rain outside streaked down the glass window, matching the storm brewing inside her mind. Her landlord's final eviction notice burned a hole in her bag, and her father's rising medical bills felt like an anchor around her neck, pulling her further into a sea of desperation. She had exhausted every option, every last favor, and now, she was at a dead end.

"You look like a woman on the verge of making a desperate decision."

A deep, smooth voice cut through her thoughts like a blade.

Evelyn looked up sharply, her breath catching in her throat. Damian Lancaster.

The billionaire. The enigma. The devil in an Armani suit.

He stood before her, exuding an air of effortless control. The soft golden light of the café cast shadows across his chiseled features-sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes, and an expression that revealed nothing.

She had seen him before, in magazines, on the news, always surrounded by power and whispered rumors. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect him to seek her out.

Her fingers tightened around the ceramic cup. "Mr. Lancaster?"

"Damian," he corrected, sliding into the chair across from her with the kind of confidence that came from knowing the world bent to his will. "I assume you know who I am."

Evelyn swallowed, nodding warily. "Everyone knows who you are."

A faint smirk touched his lips, but it never reached his eyes. "Good. That makes this easier."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek black envelope, placing it between them. "I have a proposition for you."

She frowned. "A proposition?"

"A marriage contract."

Evelyn blinked, certain she had misheard. "Excuse me?"

"Marry me," he repeated, voice smooth, unshaken. "It's a business arrangement. No emotions. No complications."

A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Damian tilted his head slightly, watching her as if she were an interesting puzzle he had yet to solve. "Do I look like a man who jokes?"

No. He didn't.

Evelyn's pulse pounded as she hesitantly picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a contract-meticulously drafted, filled with clauses, terms, and conditions. One year of marriage. Strict rules. Financial security in exchange for her compliance.

She shook her head, closing the envelope. "Why me?"

He leaned back, his gaze never wavering. "Because you fit the criteria. You have no ties. No family to interfere. No scandals. And most importantly..." His voice dropped lower, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. "You need this."

The words stung because they were true.

Damian continued, his tone as precise as his tailored suit. "Your debts will be erased. Your father's hospital bills-gone. You will live comfortably for the next year, and when our arrangement ends, you'll walk away with enough money to start fresh."

It was temptation wrapped in black ink and a billionaire's signature.

But there was always a catch.

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "And what do you get out of this?"

"A wife," he said simply. "One that plays her part without complications. There are... expectations placed upon me. Having a proper wife silences them."

She searched his face, trying to see past the mask of indifference. "And what happens if I say no?"

His expression remained unreadable, but his fingers drummed once against the table. "Then you walk out of here, and your life continues as it is. Struggling. Fighting. Drowning."

Her heart pounded.

It was madness.

But what choice did she have?

She lifted the pen from the table, her fingers trembling as she hovered over the signature line.

One year.

One year in exchange for a life without debt, without fear, without waking up every morning wondering if she would lose everything.

She pressed the pen to paper and signed.

Damian Lancaster was now her husband-to-be.

And she had no idea what she had just sold her soul to.

---

The drive to Damian's estate was silent, except for the steady hum of the luxury car's engine. Evelyn sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, trying to process everything that had just happened.

Damian, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, his expression unreadable.

She glanced at him. "Are you always this quiet?"

He didn't take his eyes off the road. "I speak when necessary."

A non-answer.

She turned her gaze back to the window as the city lights faded into darkness. They were leaving the bustling streets behind, trading them for an isolated road lined with towering trees. The drive stretched on until finally, the car pulled up to an imposing iron gate. It opened smoothly, as if expecting them, and they drove through, revealing the massive estate beyond.

Evelyn inhaled sharply.

It was breathtaking-grand stone walls, intricate architecture, and massive glass windows that gleamed under the moonlight. Yet, beneath its beauty, something about it felt... cold.

"This is your home now," Damian said as he stepped out of the car.

She hesitated before following him, her heels clicking against the stone driveway. The grand doors swung open before he could even reach for them, revealing an older man in a crisp suit.

"Sir. Madam." The butler bowed slightly. "Welcome."

Evelyn barely had time to process the grand foyer before Damian was already moving. "I have work to attend to. Margaret, my head of staff, will show you to your room."

And just like that, he was gone.

Evelyn stood in the middle of the luxurious mansion, feeling smaller than she ever had.

A year.

She had agreed to this for a year.

And something in her gut told her-this was only the beginning.