Chapter 1

I sold my life to a vampire for ten million dollars.

It wasn't a metaphor. The hospital had just given my mother a three-day death sentence unless I could produce the upfront cash for a heart transplant.

I had empty pockets, zero options, and a desperation that tasted like blood in my mouth.

So, when a hollow-eyed man in a bespoke suit cornered me outside the rain-slicked ER, offering a fortune in exchange for becoming his master's "contract bride," I didn't scream or run. I didn't even ask questions.

I signed my soul away in wet ink that very night.

By dawn, a sleek, tinted town car had arrived to drag me to my new reality.

The Vael estate loomed through the morning fog like a beautiful nightmare.

It was cold, dark, and suffocatingly silent—less of a mansion and more of a mausoleum draped in imported marble and crushed velvet.

Mr. Alden, the elderly butler, guided me through a labyrinth of echoing hallways until we stopped dead before a pair of towering mahogany doors.

"The Master will see you now."

I stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit. Heavy curtains blocked every window. And there, seated behind a massive desk, was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

Pale skin. Sharp jaw. Eyes the color of fresh blood.

He didn't stand. Didn't greet me. He simply looked at me like I was an item he'd purchased—which, technically, I was.

"You're smaller than I expected," he said. His voice was low, cold, utterly devoid of warmth.

"I'm sorry to disappoint," I said before I could stop myself.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Sit."

I sat.

He slid a folder across the desk. "These are the terms. You will live here for one year. You will act as my wife in public. You will not enter the east wing. You will not ask questions about my... condition. In return, your mother's medical bills will be paid in full, and you will receive a settlement upon completion of the contract."

I opened the folder. The numbers made my head spin.

"Why me?" I asked. "You could have anyone."

"I don't want anyone." His gaze was unreadable. "I want someone who won't develop... attachments. Someone who needs money badly enough to follow rules. Someone disposable."

The word stung more than it should have.

"Fine," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Where do I sign?"

He handed me a pen. Our fingers brushed.

His skin was ice cold.

I flinched, and something flickered in his crimson eyes—amusement? Annoyance? I couldn't tell.

"The ceremony is tomorrow," he said. "Try not to embarrass me."

He stood and walked toward the door, dismissing me without another word.

"Wait," I called out. "You didn't tell me your name."

He paused, his back still turned.

"Severin," he said. "Severin Vael. And you would do well to remember—I am not your husband. I am your owner."

The door closed behind him.

I sat alone in that dark room, clutching the contract that had just sold my soul to a monster.

What had I gotten myself into?