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.

Chapter 6:

Skylar

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Careful, Skylar, you just agreed without knowing what you’re really signing up for.”

He held my gaze for another long second, then straightened his suit jacket.

“A member of the staff will be here shortly to prepare you.”

I frowned. “P-prepare me?”

He was already walking toward the door. “You'll understand soon enough.”

Before I could stop him or demand an explanation, the door clicked shut behind him.

Silence swallowed the room.

I stared at the closed door, half expecting him to come back and admit this had all been some elaborate joke.

But he didn’t.

I let out a slow, shaky breath and rubbed my temples, trying to ease the pounding in my head.

Barely a minute later, three soft knocks sounded against the door.

“Come in,” I called, my voice hesitant.

The door opened to reveal a young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She wore a neatly pressed black uniform with crisp white accents, her dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail.

A warm smile spread across her face, gentle enough to ease some of my nerves but professional enough to remind me she was just working.

She gave a small bow. “Good afternoon, Miss Skylar.”

I offered a hesitant nod.

“My name is Lily. The master asked me to prepare you before we leave.”

I blinked in confusion. “Leave?”

“Yes, Miss.” Lily smiled politely.

“Leave for where?” I asked, still not understanding where in the world we could possibly be going.

“The main residence,” she said simply.

My eyes drifted around the room again.

The polished marble floors. The crystal chandelier hanging overhead. The enormous windows overlooking manicured gardens.

Confusion settled deeper inside me. "…This isn't his house?”

Lily’s smile remained perfectly polite. “It belongs to the master.”

I frowned. “Then why are we leaving?”

“Because this isn’t where he lives.”

My breath hitched.

Lily continued as though she hadn’t just flipped my entire understanding of the situation upside down.

“This is one of the master’s private residences. He’s taking you to his main residence—where he actually lives.”

I just stared at her, momentarily speechless.

This place I'd mistaken for the home of one of the richest men I’d ever met wasn’t even his main residence.

I kept staring at Lily for a long moment.

If this was just one of his private properties, then just how wealthy was he?

Lily seemed to notice my stunned silence but didn’t comment on it.

Instead, she offered another polite smile.

“Are you feeling well enough to stand, Miss Skylar?”

I hesitated for only a second before nodding. “I think so.”

“Very well.” She stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. "Please follow me.”

I slipped off the bed, grateful that the dizziness from the accident had mostly faded, and followed quietly behind her.

The moment we stepped into the hallway, I found myself slowing.

The entire floor was breathtaking.

Everything about it was understated yet impossibly luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked perfectly manicured gardens, while every piece of artwork looked as though it belonged in a museum rather than a private residence.

Lily stopped in front of a pair of double doors and pushed them open.

I froze.

It wasn't another bedroom.

It was a walk-in wardrobe larger than my entire apartment before I got married.

Rows upon rows of perfectly tailored dresses stretched before me in every shade imaginable. Shelves displayed handbags arranged with meticulous precision. Shoes lined illuminated glass cabinets, while elegant jewelry sparkled beneath soft lighting.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“When…” I whispered, still staring at everything around me. “When did he buy all of this?”

Lily glanced at me, almost amused by my reaction. “The master didn't buy these today.”

She said it so casually that it took my brain a moment to process.

I turned to look at her.

“What do you mean?”

Without answering directly, she walked toward one of the wardrobes and carefully slid the doors open.

After scanning the collection, she selected a dress and laid it carefully across a nearby table.

“The master selected this himself.”

The dress was breathtaking.

It was a floor-length champagne-coloured dress crafted from smooth silk that shimmered softly whenever it caught the light. The neckline was graceful without revealing too much, while the fitted waist flowed effortlessly into a long, elegant skirt.

***

Several minutes later, I stepped in front of the full-length mirror.

My breath hitched.

The dress fit perfectly. Too perfectly. It wasn't slightly loose nor slightly tight.

The waist hugged me flawlessly. The length stopped exactly where it should. Even the sleeves rested comfortably against my arms as though every measurement had been taken personally.

I slowly turned, unable to hide my disbelief. “H-how?”

My voice came out barely above a whisper.V“How did he know my size?”

Lily paused, her smile never wavering. “The master has his ways.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that I almost thought I'd misheard her.

I frowned.

That didn't answer my question.

If anything, it only made me wonder what kind of man Sebastian Blackwood really was.

Lily led me out of the room and down the sweeping staircase.

Outside, a sleek black luxury SUV waited beneath the covered entrance, its glossy finish reflecting the afternoon sun.

Two men dressed in tailored black suits stood beside it, earpieces tucked discreetly behind their ears.

Security.

The moment Lily and I approached, one of the men gave a respectful nod before stepping forward to open the rear door.

“Miss,” he said politely.

I hesitated for the briefest moment before climbing inside.

The leather seat was softer than anything I'd ever sat on.

I had barely settled in when—

“Comfortable?”

My breath hitched.

I turned sharply.

Sebastian sat beside me. He hadn't even looked up from the tablet resting on his lap.

My heart gave an embarrassing little jump.

How had I not noticed him?

He looked as composed as ever, dressed in another perfectly tailored charcoal suit, as though proposing marriage to a stranger was simply another appointment on his schedule.

The door closed.

A second later, the SUV pulled smoothly away.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn't awkward; it was… intimidating.

I folded my hands together to stop myself from fidgeting, then looked out the window.

The city gradually disappeared behind us.

Busy streets gave way to quieter roads lined with towering trees and immaculately maintained landscapes.

A few minutes later, a massive security gate appeared ahead.

The guards barely glanced inside before the gates began to slide open. Beyond them lay an estate unlike anything I'd ever seen.

Wide roads. Elegant modern homes hidden among perfectly landscaped greenery. Private security vehicles patrolled the streets. Everything about the place whispered power.

“The Blackwood estate…” I murmured under my breath.

“This isn't the Blackwood estate.”

The calm voice beside me made me freeze. That was when I realized I had spoken loudly enough for him to hear.

I turned sharply toward Sebastian.

He hadn't even looked up from the tablet.

“This,” he said evenly, “is mine.”

My breath hitched.

Just who had I agreed to marry?