The Billionaire's Clause

I signed away my legacy on a dotted line.
Desperate doesn't cover it-creditors circling like vultures, my family's name one bad quarter from dust. I needed a savior, not a husband. But there he was, the financier with eyes like shattered ice, offering a clause that bound us in name only. Temporary. Clean. A lifeline wrapped in lies.
Or so I told myself.

That first boardroom clash should have been my warning. Sweat beading on my collar, his gaze stripping me bare without a touch, hunger coiling unspoken between us. Professional armor? Mine cracked the second he leaned in, voice a velvet blade: sign, and you're mine to protect. To possess. I laughed it off, all bravado and bite, but my pulse betrayed me, pounding with the terror of wanting more.

Now we're shackled in this glittering penthouse cage, cameras flashing at galas where his hand brands my back like ownership. Candlelight hides nothing-the way he devours my defiance, turns sarcasm into pleas. Rain lashes the windows as our shadows tangle furious and feral, bodies colliding in a war of need that shreds every boundary. He's ruin dressed as rescue, volcanic under that chill facade, demanding I surrender the heart I've guarded like a fortress.

One wrong move, and I lose it all: empire, pride, the man who's wrecking me from the inside out. This sham was supposed to save me. What if begging for his chaos is the real fall?

A full-length dark marriage of convenience erotic romance featuring a desperate heir and a ruthless billionaire.