The Love i contracted

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The Love I Contracted

Chapter 1: A Night of Disguises

The grand ballroom of the Azure Crown Hotel shimmered under crystal chandeliers, casting a golden glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. Champagne flowed freely, and laughter mixed with the smooth notes of the live orchestra. It was an evening of luxury, secrets, and whispered deals—where the powerful mingled, masked behind polite smiles.

And then there was him.

Nathaniel Ashford stood at the edge of the room, watching the scene unfold with detached amusement. He was a man who didn't need a spotlight to command attention. Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence alone sent ripples through any crowd. The crisp black suit he wore did nothing to soften the raw strength beneath, nor did it hide the way his muscles shifted with effortless control.

His face was striking—dangerously so. A strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a devil-may-care smirk that hinted at something both wicked and tempting. His dark hair was casually tousled, as if he had just run a hand through it moments ago. But it was his eyes, sharp and piercing beneath the shadow of his mask, that held a promise—one of power, control, and a challenge no one had yet won.

He shouldn't have been here.

Nathaniel, heir to the Ashford Enterprise empire and one of the world's most powerful businessmen, was a name whispered with both reverence and fear. The Ashford name controlled industries, reshaped economies, and crushed competitors with a flick of his signature. But tonight, he wasn't Nathaniel Ashford, the billionaire CEO.

Tonight, he was just a man seeking a moment of escape.

And then he saw her.

She wasn't like the others.

While the room was filled with women draped in diamonds and strategic seduction, she stood apart. No extravagant jewelry, no practiced smiles. Just a quiet, effortless beauty.

She lingered near the edge of the ballroom, her fingers wrapped around the stem of a champagne flute, her hazel eyes scanning the crowd with uncertainty. Her dress, though simple, hugged her form with understated elegance, and soft curls framed her face.

She didn't belong in this world.

And yet, Nathaniel couldn't look away.

Without a second thought, he moved toward her, his strides slow and deliberate. She noticed him approaching and stiffened slightly, her lips parting as if to say something—but the words never came.

Up close, she was even more breathtaking.

She blinked up at him. "Oh—I mean, hello," she stammered, her voice soft yet unsteady.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Not a fan of parties?"

She let out a small, nervous laugh. "Not really. My friend dragged me here. She said I needed to 'experience something new.'"

Nathaniel studied her, his gaze lingering on the way she fidgeted with her glass. There was something refreshingly genuine about her—a rarity in his world of deception.

"And do you regret coming?" he asked, his voice smooth, teasing.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Not yet."

Something about the way she said it sent a strange thrill through him.

For the first time in a long while, Nathaniel felt something real.

And that was dangerous.

---

The night air was cool against her skin as she stepped onto the rooftop terrace. The ballroom had been overwhelming—the noise, the lights, the weight of so many eyes. Out here, she could breathe.

She hadn't expected to meet anyone tonight. Least of all him.

The man with the devilish smirk and unreadable gaze.

Nathaniel Ashford. Though, of course, she didn't know that yet.

"You're escaping too?" His deep, smooth voice came from behind her, sending a shiver down her spine.

She turned to find him leaning casually against the terrace railing, hands tucked into his pockets, the wind ruffling his dark hair. There was something almost… dangerous about the way he carried himself. Effortlessly confident.

She swallowed. "I just needed a moment."

He nodded, stepping closer, his sharp eyes studying her in a way that made her heart stutter. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. A part of her wanted to keep her distance, but another part—the reckless part—wanted to answer.

"Serena."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Serena," he echoed, as if testing the sound of it. "Beautiful name."

Her cheeks warmed. "And you are…?"

He paused, then offered a small, knowing smile. "Nathan."

A half-truth.

For now, it was enough.

One drink turned into two. Laughter replaced hesitation.

By the time the night blurred into golden lights and soft music, they were swept into a whirlwind neither of them saw coming.

And when dawn arrived, so did reality.

Because Serena woke up to a ring on her finger.

And Nathaniel Ashford, the man she barely knew, was now her husband.

---

The first thing Serena noticed was the pounding in her head.

The second was the weight of the ring on her finger.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she sat up, the silky hotel sheets pooling around her. She blinked, trying to clear the fog in her mind. Flashes of the night before came rushing back—the party, the rooftop, the drinks, him.

And then—

Her breath hitched as she turned her head.

Nathaniel Ashford was seated at the edge of the bed, fully dressed in his crisp black suit from the night before, exuding the same commanding presence as he had at the party. But now, there was something different in his expression. A quiet intensity.

He was watching her.

"You're awake," he said smoothly, his deep voice laced with something unreadable.

Serena's fingers curled into the sheets. "What… what happened?"

A slow smirk touched his lips, but there was no amusement in his eyes. He lifted his hand, and her gaze followed—to the golden band on his finger.

Panic surged through her.

"We didn't—" She swallowed. "We didn't—"

"Oh, we did." He leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. "We got married, Serena."

The words sent a shockwave through her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That's not possible. I—I don't even know you."

Nathaniel exhaled a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. "That makes two of us."

Serena scrambled to grab her phone from the nightstand, her hands trembling as she unlocked the screen. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe this was all some elaborate joke—

But then she saw it.

A grainy, late-night photo. Blurry but unmistakable. Them. Standing before a wedding officiant, her hand in his. A small crowd in the background.

Her stomach dropped.

"No. No, no, no," she muttered. "This can't be real."

Nathaniel ran a hand through his dark hair, exhaling. "It's real."

Silence stretched between them, thick with disbelief.

Finally, Serena looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do we do?"

Nathaniel studied her for a long moment before standing up, adjusting his cufflinks with calculated ease.

"We fix it," he said simply. "But on my terms."

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He turned to face her, and for the first time, the full weight of who he was settled onto his features. The easy charm from the night before was gone. In its place was the cold, decisive power of a man used to getting what he wanted.

"This isn't just a drunken mistake, Serena." His voice was firm, unwavering. "It's an opportunity."

Her pulse quickened. "An opportunity for what?"

Nathaniel stepped closer, his towering presence overwhelming. He tilted his head, considering her.

"A deal," he said finally. "A marriage contract."

Serena's breath caught in her throat. "You're joking."

"I don't joke." His gaze darkened, his smirk returning, this time with a sharper edge. "You need out of this mess. I need something in return. And lucky for you, I don't intend to let go of my wife just yet."

Her world tilted.

This wasn't just a mistake.

It was a trap.

And she had walked straight into it.