Elena sat on the bench outside the hospital wing, the contract file resting heavily on her lap. The morning sun filtered through the windows, warm against her skin, but it did nothing to thaw the storm of nerves tightening in her chest.
She had made her decision.
Not because she was desperate. Not because she trusted Alexander Knight.
But because her father deserved better. Because she was tired of watching him shrink into someone she barely recognized. Because she needed control—and this was her way of taking it back, even if it meant walking into the lion's den.
She opened the file, her fingers brushing over the embossed letterhead with Alexander's signature cold precision. Every clause of the contract glared back at her like silent chains.
One year.
Public appearances. Shared residence. No scandal. No romantic involvement with any other person.
She bit her lip hard as her eyes skimmed the clauses. It was a marriage in name only—on paper. But Alexander Knight had made it clear from their previous encounter: she would be his wife. Publicly. Professionally.
Emotionally?
She doubted he cared enough to entertain that layer.
Elena clicked the pen open and signed her name at the bottom of the final page. The sound of the ink scratching across the thick paper echoed in her head like a closing door.
Done.
But she didn't have Alexander's number. Or Jared's. She had no way to contact them, and the last time she was at his office, she had been summoned—not welcomed.
Still, if she wanted this to move forward, she needed to make the first move. So she carefully returned the signed documents to the envelope, adjusted her coat, and left the hospital.
The towering glass façade of Knight Global Enterprises gleamed like a wall of power, impersonal and intimidating. Elena stood at the entrance, gripping the envelope tightly in one hand.
This was it.
She walked in, head held high.
The interior of the building was just as sleek and intimidating as the man who owned it. White marble floors, minimalist black-and-gold décor, and an atmosphere that told visitors they were already beneath it all.
The receptionist glanced up from her desk, chewing gum slowly as she took in Elena's appearance.
Elena wore a clean, simple blouse tucked into a pair of washed-out jeans. Nothing flashy. But compared to the designer heels and tailored suits moving through the lobby, she stood out—and not in a good way.
"Yes?" the receptionist asked, her voice clipped.
"I'm here to see Mr. Knight," Elena said, keeping her voice level.
The receptionist gave her a once-over and then scoffed. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No," Elena said. "But I need to speak with him. Or his assistant, Jared."
Another eye roll. "Of course you do."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Look," the receptionist said, tapping a manicured nail against her desk, "you can't just walk in here looking like that and expect to see the CEO. This is not some charity event. Go home, sweetheart."
A couple of people in the lobby glanced toward them, sensing drama.
"I'm not here to cause a scene," Elena said, her tone sharper now. "I just need five minutes—"
"Security?" the receptionist cut in, picking up the phone. "Yeah, I've got someone here refusing to leave. No, no appointment. Just another crazy fan, I think."
Elena's face fell.
Before she could say another word, two security guards appeared by the front doors and began walking toward her with purpose.
"Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to step outside—"
But a third voice cut through the tension.
"What the hell is going on here?"
All heads turned as Jared, Alexander's assistant, strode through the revolving doors, a takeaway coffee tray in one hand and his phone in the other. His sharp suit and brisk pace made him a familiar figure among the staff—but it was the anger on his face that stunned the receptionist.
The guards stepped back as Jared approached.
"Elena?" he asked, his expression shifting from irritation to surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Before she could answer, the receptionist jumped in, her voice suddenly sugary. "She said she didn't have an appointment, and we didn't want to disturb Mr. Knight—"
Jared shot her a glare that could melt steel. "So your solution was to call security and throw out a woman who was clearly here for business?"
The woman blinked. "I—I didn't know she was important."
"She is," Jared snapped. "And you just embarrassed the company by treating her like trash in the lobby. Congratulations."
The receptionist flushed, sinking slightly in her seat.
Elena couldn't hide the small flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.
Jared turned to her, his tone softer now. "Come with me."
She followed him past the security guards and into the elevator, still clutching the envelope to her chest. Once the doors closed, he sighed.
"I'm really sorry about that," he said. "She's new. Clearly doesn't understand how we treat guests."
"I wasn't trying to cause trouble," Elena said quietly.
"I know." He glanced at her. "You signed it, didn't you?"
She nodded, holding out the envelope.
Jared took it carefully. "I'll get this to Mr. Knight immediately. He's in a meeting, but he'll want to see you as soon as it's done."
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
When the doors opened to the executive floor, Jared led her to a private waiting room—plush chairs, soft lighting, and a panoramic view of the city.
He paused at the door. "I'll be back soon."
Elena nodded and took a seat, letting out a slow breath as the door closed behind him.
The contract was signed.
There was no turning back now.