Chapter 2: Bound by a Vow or a Contract?

Luna's grip tightened around the handle of her suitcase as she stood frozen in the grand foyer of the Blackwell estate. The air inside was crisp with the scent of polished wood and something unmistakably Killian—rich cedar and a hint of dark spice. It was a scent she once found comfort in. Now, it only reminded her of everything she had lost.

Killian leaned against the fireplace, his gaze locked onto her with unsettling intensity. He took a slow sip of whiskey, his fingers wrapped around the crystal glass like he had all the time in the world.

"You're late." His voice was smooth, unaffected, but there was a sharpness beneath it.

Luna lifted her chin, refusing to let him see her unease. "Traffic."

His lips twitched, as if amused by her excuse. "Of course."

The butler excused himself, leaving them alone in the cavernous room. Silence stretched between them, thick with unresolved tension. Luna had spent five years trying to forget this man. Now, she had agreed to be his wife—for a price.

Her throat felt dry as she spoke. "So, what now?"

Killian pushed off the fireplace and strode toward her, his towering frame closing the space between them. He stopped mere inches away, forcing her to tilt her head to meet his gaze. "Now, we play our roles."

Luna's fingers curled into fists. "And when no one is watching?"

His expression remained unreadable. "You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."

Something about his indifference sent a sharp pang through her chest. Five years ago, he had held her like she was his world. Now, he spoke as if she were a stranger.

Luna forced herself to nod. "Fine."

Killian stepped back, gesturing toward the grand staircase. "Your room is down the hall, second door to the left. I assume James already briefed you on our upcoming public appearances."

She nodded. "The charity gala next weekend."

"Good. I expect you to be flawless."

Luna let out a humorless laugh. "Of course, Mr. Blackwell."

His jaw ticked slightly at the formal address, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned away, dismissing her without another word.

Luna exhaled, a mix of anger and something dangerously close to hurt swirling inside her. She had agreed to this arrangement for her family's sake. She couldn't afford to let emotions cloud her judgment.

Clutching her suitcase, she made her way up the grand staircase, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The Blackwell mansion was every bit as cold and opulent as she remembered. A place where warmth had no place.

As she reached her room, she paused at the doorway, glancing back toward the man who had once held her heart—and shattered it without looking back.

This time, she wouldn't be the one left broken.

The next morning, Luna awoke to a knock on her door. She groggily pulled on a robe and opened it to find a maid standing outside, holding a garment bag.

"Mr. Blackwell requested you wear this for breakfast," she said politely before handing over the bag and leaving.

Luna frowned as she unzipped it. Inside was a silk white dress—elegant, modest, and undoubtedly expensive. A statement.

Her eyes narrowed. Killian was already controlling her wardrobe?

She debated ignoring it, but something told her defiance would only make things harder. Sighing, she changed into the dress and made her way downstairs.

Killian was already seated at the dining table, sipping coffee while reading the morning paper. He didn't look up as she entered.

"You're early," she remarked.

He flipped a page. "You're late."

Luna bit back an annoyed retort and sat down across from him. The breakfast spread was extravagant—fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and smoked salmon. But her appetite was nonexistent.

"I see you got my gift," Killian said, finally glancing at her.

She smoothed her hands over the dress. "I don't recall asking for it."

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You're my wife now. Your image is my image. I expect you to dress the part."

Luna's nails dug into her palms. "Right. Wouldn't want to tarnish the Blackwell name."

His gaze darkened. "Careful, Luna."

She met his stare head-on, refusing to back down. "Or what?"

A slow smirk curved his lips, but there was no warmth in it. "You'll find out soon enough."

A chill ran down her spine, but she masked it with a neutral expression. This was just a game to him, a carefully orchestrated act. But she refused to be his pawn.

Later that day, Luna found herself in Killian's car, heading toward Blackwell Industries. She wasn't supposed to be involved in his business, yet he had insisted she accompany him for an official introduction to the board.

"Why am I needed for this meeting?" she asked, staring out at the towering skyline.

Killian didn't look away from his phone. "Because the world needs to see us as a united front."

"Right. A front," she muttered.

The car pulled up to the company's headquarters, where reporters were already gathered. Before she could brace herself, Killian's hand slid over hers, pulling her closer.

"Smile," he murmured.

Luna forced a dazzling grin as they stepped out of the car, cameras flashing wildly. Killian's grip on her waist was firm, his lips curving into an effortless smirk as he led her inside.

The moment they entered the boardroom, the air shifted. Men and women in tailored suits turned their gazes toward them, some curious, others skeptical.

An older man with sharp eyes leaned forward. "So, this is the woman who tamed Killian Blackwell?"

Luna's smile didn't waver, though she felt Killian's fingers twitch slightly against her waist. "I wouldn't say tamed," she replied smoothly. "Perhaps just matched him."

A few chuckles echoed in the room, but Luna caught the calculating glances. This was more than just a meeting—it was a test.

One she intended to pass.

As Killian guided her to a seat beside him, his voice was low, almost teasing. "Careful, Mrs. Blackwell. You might just convince them this is real."

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression. "Isn't that the point?"

For the first time, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something she couldn't quite place.

But before she could dwell on it, the meeting began, and the game continued.

She might be bound to Killian Blackwell by contract, but she would never let him own her heart again.