Skylar

The lights were too bright.

I squeezed my eyes shut the moment I opened them, but the sterile white glow burned through my eyelids anyway. A dull, steady ache pulsed behind my forehead. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nose with every breath.

Hospital.

The realization came slowly, like my mind was moving through thick fog. I tried to sit up, but the room tilted violently. A soft groan slipped from my lips.

“Don’t move too quickly,” a gentle voice said.

A nurse stood beside the bed, her expression careful and kind. An IV line tugged at the back of my hand.

“What… happened?” I rasped, my throat painfully dry.

“You were in a car accident. Mr. Blackwood brought you in. You’re stable now, but you need rest.”

Mr. Blackwood. Alex?

My fingers instinctively drifted to my stomach. A strange, heavy dread settled there.

“Is my baby okay?” I whispered.

The nurse went still.

The silence stretched.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “The accident… W-we couldn’t save the pregnancy. You had a miscarriage.”

The words hung in the air, refusing to settle. I blinked once. Then twice.

“What?” My voice sounded small. “No… that’s not possible.”

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, dripping to my hands. A broken scream tore from my throat.

“No… no, please…”

My hands pressed harder against my stomach as if I could somehow hold on to what was already gone. The emptiness hit like a physical wound, hollow and sharp at the same time.

Everything I had lost in one night crashed over me again. The betrayal in the parking lot. Kate’s casual shrug. Cecilia’s cold stare. And now this.

The nurse murmured something soft and sympathetic, but I barely heard her. She eventually stepped out, leaving me alone with the steady beep of machines and the crushing silence.

I didn't know how long I laid there.

At some point the tears stopped, not because the pain had faded, but because I had gone numb. My body felt heavy. Like I was floating just above myself, watching everything from a distance.

The door opened again.

Alex stepped inside.

For a long moment, I simply stared at him. No anger surged. No desperate hope. Just a vast, tired emptiness.

He stopped at the side of the bed, his expression carefully blank. Almost uncomfortable.

“Glad you’re alive,” he said quietly.

Before I could respond, he pulled a folder from under his arm and dropped a stack of papers on my lap.

Divorce papers.

My fingers brushed the edge of the document.

“Sign them,” he said. His voice was low, almost tired. “Let’s end this cleanly.”

I lifted my gaze to his face, searching for something… regret, guilt, even irritation. There was a flicker of discomfort in the way he shifted his weight, the way his eyes avoided lingering on mine for too long. Like this conversation was costing him more than he wanted to admit.

“If you’re worried about your father’s debt,” he added, glancing away briefly, “it’s already handled. Just… sign. We both know this marriage stopped making sense a long time ago.”

Something inside me broke even further, but the break felt distant now.

That younger version of me, the one who would have begged, who would have asked what she did wrong— was gone. Buried somewhere beneath the betrayal, the humiliation, and the tiny life I had just lost.

My hand moved almost on its own. I took the pen he offered.

Each signature felt like erasing pieces of myself.

When I finished, Alex took the papers without a word. He didn’t thank me. He didn’t apologize. He simply turned toward the door.

For the briefest second, he paused, shoulders tight. His jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence swallowed the room again.

I sat there for several long minutes, staring at nothing. The numbness wrapped tighter around me. Suffocatingly so. My body felt like it belonged to someone else.

My thoughts moved slowly. I didn’t remember deciding to move. I only remember the moment I was suddenly standing beside the bed, the IV line dangling loosely after I had pulled it free.

A thin trail of blood ran down the back of my hand, but the sting felt unimportant.

My bare feet touched the cold tile floor. The chill traveled up my legs, distant and muted.

I started walking.

Not with purpose. Not with determination. Just… moving. One unsteady step after another, guided only by a hazy instinct to get away from that room, from that bed, from the pain of everything I had lost in a single night.

The hallway lights blurred overhead.

Voices called out behind me, a nurse shouting “Miss, you can’t leave yet!” but the sounds felt muffled, as if they were coming from underwater.

My legs trembled beneath me. The world tilted dangerously.

Then I collided with something solid.

Strong arms caught me before I could crash to the floor, steady and surprisingly gentle. A clean scent of rain mixed with faint woodiness broke the sterile hospital smell, flooding my senses for a fleeting second.

My breath hitched.

I tried to focus on the face above me, but everything was already fading.

A deep, calm voice spoke close to my ear, steady and controlled.

“Easy. You’re going to fall.”

The words lingered for a heartbeat...

Then darkness swallowed me completely.

Skylar

When my eyes fluttered open again, I let out a soft groan.

I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. The first thing I noticed was how unnaturally quiet the room was. No beeping machines, no rushed footsteps echoing down hallways, no sterile hospital smell.

Instead, a rich and expensive scent lingered heavily in the air, polished wood mixed with something faintly cold and masculine, like expensive cologne layered over rain.

My brows pulled together in confusion.

This wasn’t the hospital. But it wasn’t my home either.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to sit up slightly. That was when I realized I was wearing a soft silk robe that definitely wasn’t mine. My eyes widened. I looked around the room properly now. It was huge, luxurious in a way that felt almost suffocating. Soft lighting, dark elegant furniture, thick clean sheets that probably cost more than everything I owned.

My heart started beating faster.

Where was I?

Just then, the door clicked open with a quiet, deliberate sound.

“You’re awake.”

The deep voice broke the silence. I froze instantly. My head turned sharply toward the sound, but my vision was still slightly blurry. I saw the silhouette of a tall man first. Then came the slow, measured footsteps as he stepped further into the room.

His presence alone made the large space feel like it was closing in on me.

I rubbed my temples, trying desperately to clear my vision. As the fog lifted, I finally saw him properly. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a face that looked like it had been carved to perfection.

My breath hitched. Fear and confusion twisted together in my chest.

“W-who are you?” I asked, my voice coming out shaky and weak.

The man paused near the foot of the bed. His gaze stayed fixed on me, steady and unreadable, like he was studying an object.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I frowned, the haze in my head making everything feel slow and heavy. “What…?”

I tried to push myself up further, but a strong wave of dizziness hit me. The room tilted violently. Before I could steady myself, his hand moved, pressing lightly but firmly against my shoulder, guiding me back down to the pillows.

“Stay where you are.”

The command was quiet, yet it carried absolute finality. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary. Something about the way he spoke and the steady pressure of his hand made my heart race in a strange, unsettling way.

It wasn’t just fear. There was something else, a weird sense of familiarity that made no sense at all. Like my body had heard that tone before, even though I was certain I had never met this man.

He slowly withdrew his hand, but he didn’t step back far. His presence remained close.

“What you should be asking,” he continued, his voice low, “is how you’re going to pay for the damage you caused.”

My brows pulled together. “Damage…?”

He let the silence stretch between us, watching me struggle to comprehend.

“You damaged my car.” he said calmly.

I blinked slowly, my mind still foggy. “I… what?”

My breath hitched.

The memories came back in broken flashes.

Rain pouring heavily against the windshield. Tires screeching violently against the wet road.

Blinding headlights breaking through the storm seconds before the impact.

Oh God.

The car I hit…

was his.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars." He added.

I stared at him.

“That’s… just for the damage?”

The words barely left my mouth. I had never even seen that kind of money before.

“That doesn’t…” I started, but the words felt useless in my mouth.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving my face.

“Cullinan Black Badge.”

He said it so simply, that it stole whatever strength I had left. No details about what exactly got damaged in the accident. Just the debt.

My hands trembled against the sheets. I swung the blanket off slightly, my legs shaky as I tried to find my balance on the edge of the bed.

“I… I need to go,” I said quickly, my voice cracking. “Thank you for helping me, but I can’t stay here. I really can’t.”

He didn’t stop me with force. Instead, he simply shifted once, just enough that leaving the room would mean walking directly past him. The movement was smooth, but it made the air feel heavier. Like he had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere yet.

“Go where?” he asked, his tone completely unchanged.

“Anywhere,” I whispered, my voice shaking badly now. “Just… anywhere but here.”

His expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker. Then he spoke again.

“Your husband already left you in that hospital bed and walked away.”

My entire body went still. The room seemed to tilt again, but this time it had nothing to do with dizziness.

“How… how do you know that?” I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He didn’t answer. He never seemed to feel the need to explain himself.

Instead, he stepped a little closer, close enough that I could feel the shift in the air around us.

“Before you go anywhere,” he said, voice low and final, “you’re going to deal with what you owe me.”

My fingers curled tightly into the blanket. My mind felt broken, slow, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in one terrible night.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through the room.

The door opened and a slim, elegant woman stepped inside.

“Mr. Blackwood,” she said politely, bowing her head slightly. “Your schedule is ready.”

The name hit me like a physical blow.

Mr. Blackwood.

At first the name didn’t fully register. Then it did...

Blackwood.

That name wasn’t new to me. It was the same name that had destroyed my life. The name that had forced me to drop out of college, marry a man I barely knew, and shrink myself until I almost disappeared.

The name that had taken everything from me.

My blood ran cold. My fingers went numb against the sheets.

I slowly lifted my gaze back to the man standing in front of me. He gave the woman a small, indifferent nod, completely unfazed by her presence.

He was a Blackwood?...

Skylar

He was a Blackwood?...

And yet something about this particular Blackwood felt different. Colder. Heavier. More dangerous.

He turned his attention back to me, his deep voice breaking the heavy silence once more.

“Rest.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It was a decision he had already made for me.

My brows pulled together as I stared at him, confusion swirling in my chest.

“Don’t try leaving,” he added flatly.

Just like that.

No explanation. No reassurance. He simply turned and walked out, the door shutting behind him with a soft, final click that echoed in the large room.

I was left alone again, the silence pressing down on me.

A Blackwood…?

The thought kept circling in my mind. I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening against the sheets until my knuckles turned white. That couldn’t be right. Could it? Maybe there was another branch of the family. Maybe this was all some terrible coincidence.

But the way he carried himself, that quiet, absolute authority felt far too familiar in the worst possible way.

My heart started racing again. There was no way I could stay here. Not with a Blackwood. Not after everything his name had already taken from me.

God… I damaged his car.

My hand ran through my tangled hair as frustration and panic built in my chest. And Alex… had betrayed me. And thinking about the baby I lost only made the emptiness inside me hurt worse.

My jaw clenched tightly.

The soft click of the door pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts.

This time, it wasn’t him.

A woman stepped in, dressed neatly in a crisp maid’s uniform. She moved quietly, her expression polite but carefully neutral.

“Are you feeling better, miss?” she asked gently. “Should I get you something to eat?”

“Food?” I echoed, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears.

“Yes, miss,” she added, offering a small smile. “The master instructed that we should provide you with anything you need.”

The master.

My brows furrowed again. I glanced around the luxurious room. This place wasn’t a sanctuary, it was a cage wrapped in silk and wood.

I looked back at her, my voice coming out uncertain and shaky.

“C-can you help me leave?”

The woman hesitated for a second, then shook her head slightly, almost regretfully.

“I’m sorry, miss. The master instructed us not to let you leave.”

A humourless, broken laugh left my lips. “So… I’m a prisoner now?”

She didn’t flinch or react strongly. She simply gave a small, polite nod.

“If you need anything, you can ring the bell,” she said, gesturing lightly toward a small button on the bedside table. “I’ll come right away.”

And just like that, she turned and left, the door closing softly behind her once again.

Silence returned, heavier than before.

I sat there for what felt like a long time, trying to process everything that had happened. The room alone was bigger than any place I had ever lived in. This wasn’t just a house. It was a cold, beautiful, and suffocating mansion.

Deep down, I knew I wasn’t simply going to walk out of here.

Time passed. Minutes blurred into what might have been hours. I had no way of knowing.

Then the door opened again.

I looked up instantly, my body tensing.

It was him.

My chest tightened at the sight.

“P-please,” I said quickly, before I could second-guess myself. “I really need to leave now.”

He didn’t respond immediately. He just stood there, watching me with that same calm, unreadable expression.

Then he spoke.

“You almost destroyed my car.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“It… was an accident,” I said quickly, my voice weaker than I wanted.

His gaze didn’t leave my face. “Accidents still have consequences.”

“Look… sir, I’m really sorry about your car, but I really need to leave…”

My voice trailed off. I swallowed hard, struggling to form the rest of my thoughts. Something about the way he was looking at me made it difficult to think straight. His gaze was intense, not angry nor soft, just piercing and unreadable. Like he could see straight through me.

He stepped closer. Just one step. But it was enough to make my pulse spike sharply.

“You have two choices,” he said.

My throat went dry instantly.

“Pay twenty-five thousand dollars for the damage.”

My eyes widened, panic rushing through me all over again.

“B-but… I don’t have that kind of money,” I breathed, my voice cracking.

He didn’t react. No surprise. No sympathy. He simply watched me, as if my panic was irrelevant.

“Or…” he continued, his tone sharpening just slightly, “you work it off under my terms.”

My fingers tightened against the bedsheet until the fabric bunched painfully in my fists.

“Your terms?” I repeated, barely able to keep my voice steady.

“Yes,” he said simply. “My schedule. My rules. My conditions.”

My brows furrowed in confusion, my head still throbbing from everything I’d been through. “What does that even mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel the shift in the air between us.

My breath hitched.

He leaned down slightly, placing one hand on the bed beside me, caging me in just enough to make my heart pound wildly against my ribs.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Not enough to soften him. Somehow, it only made him more unsettling.

“You walked into my world, Skylar. You just don’t realize it yet.”

My eyes widened instantly. Panic flared in my chest.

“Who are you?” My voice came out sharply. “And how do you know my name?”

He paused.

Then let out the faintest hint of dark amusement.

“Are you some kind of stalker?”

“Stalker?” he repeated, raising one brow. “That’s child’s play.”

He turned slightly, walking over to the small drawer beside the bed with calmness. He poured himself a glass of water as if we weren’t in the middle of the most unsettling conversation of my life.

“I have my sources,” he added simply, offering no further explanation.

Then he turned back toward me and held the glass out.

“Take it,” he said, his voice leaving no room for refusal.

I didn’t move at first. My heart was still racing too fast, my thoughts scattered in every direction.

He stepped a little closer, extending the glass toward me.

“Your voice is hoarse. Drink.”

With unsteady hands, I finally reached out and took the glass.

I lifted it to my lips and took a small sip. The water was cool and refreshing, but it did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside me.

After a few more sips, I lowered the glass, still gripping it tightly.

I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

Then he spoke again, his voice low and decisive.

“You’ll play a role.”

I froze. My brows pulled together as I looked up at him in confusion.

“A role…?”

My voice came out barely above a whisper.

His gaze stayed fixed on mine.

“And you don’t have the luxury of refusing.”

My stomach dropped.