Chapter 3 – A Dangerous Arrangement

Sophia barely slept that night.

Despite the luxury surrounding her, the air in Blackwood Tower felt suffocating.

The bed was too soft. The silence was too loud.

And her thoughts… they were the worst part of all.

She kept replaying Damien's words from earlier.

"For now."

There was a certainty in his tone that unsettled her. As if he knew exactly when and how things would change.

She had entered this contract with rules, boundaries, limits. But Damien Blackwood wasn't the kind of man who followed rules—he rewrote them.

Sophia pushed the thoughts away, forcing herself out of bed as the morning sun poured through the massive windows.

She wouldn't let him control her. Not in the ways that mattered.

---

When she entered the dining room, Damien was already seated at the long, elegant table, a newspaper in one hand and a steaming cup of black coffee in the other.

Sophia hesitated for only a second before taking a seat across from him.

The moment she did, a maid appeared and placed a plate of perfectly arranged breakfast in front of her. Eggs, fresh fruit, warm toast—a meal fit for royalty.

Damien didn't look up from his paper. "I had them prepare what I assumed would be to your liking."

Sophia picked up her fork, her gaze sharp. "And what exactly do you assume I like?"

Finally, he looked at her. His piercing blue eyes held a challenge.

"You seem like someone who prefers light but balanced meals," he said smoothly. "Not too indulgent. Not too bland. You're careful about what you put into your body, but you don't deprive yourself."

Sophia's breath hitched.

He had observed her that closely?

She took a slow bite, keeping her expression unreadable. "Interesting guess."

Damien smirked. "It wasn't a guess."

Sophia fought the urge to shiver.

He was dangerous in more ways than one.

She decided to change the subject. "So, what's today's schedule, fiancé?"

His smirk deepened at the way she said it, but he answered casually, "This afternoon, we have an interview with Prestige Magazine. They'll be covering our engagement."

Sophia nearly choked on her toast.

"An interview?" she repeated, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "You didn't mention that."

"You knew this arrangement came with publicity," he said simply. "And since I don't have time for small-scale gossip, I chose the most exclusive publication."

Of course, he had.

Sophia clenched her fork. There was no room for negotiation with this man.

But if she wanted to keep up with him, she had to act like his equal.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Fine. But I'm choosing my own dress for it."

Damien's expression remained unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he said, "Very well."

Sophia tried not to look surprised.

Had he actually given in?

But before she could savor the victory, Damien leaned forward, his voice dangerously low.

"But make sure it's something that tells the world you belong to me."

Her pulse jumped.

She knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to remind her—she might be playing the game, but he was still the one setting the rules.

Fine. Two could play.

She met his gaze, her lips curving into the sweetest, most deceptive smile she could muster. "Oh, don't worry, Damien. I'll make sure the world knows exactly what we are."

His eyes darkened just a little.

She had his attention.

And for the first time, she wondered…

Was she truly keeping up with Damien Blackwood?

Or was she walking straight into his carefully laid trap?

---

Sophia spent the next few hours preparing.

She went straight to the penthouse's luxurious walk-in closet—already filled with high-end designer clothes, no doubt Damien's doing.

But she ignored those.

She chose her own dress.

When she emerged just before the interview, Damien was waiting in the grand sitting room.

And when he saw her, his usual cool demeanor faltered.

Sophia smirked internally.

Good.

She had chosen a deep crimson, figure-hugging gown. It was elegant but bold, the fabric smooth against her curves, the neckline dipping just enough to command attention without surrendering control.

It was a statement.

A warning.

And Damien knew it.

For a brief moment, his jaw tightened. Then, slowly, he stood, adjusting the cuffs of his suit.

He approached her with deliberate steps, stopping just inches away.

Then, in a voice so low only she could hear, he murmured, "Clever."

Sophia tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."

He chuckled softly, but there was something else in his gaze now—something more dangerous than amusement.

Desire.

She felt the heat of it in the air between them.

Then, just as quickly, he masked it.

He extended his hand. "Shall we?"

Sophia took it, knowing full well this was only the beginning.

---

The Prestige Magazine team arrived shortly after, setting up in the penthouse's lounge area.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed woman named Evelyn Royce, wasted no time.

"Mr. Blackwood, Miss Reid, your engagement came as quite a surprise. Can you tell us how this whirlwind romance began?"

Damien glanced at Sophia. Giving her the first move.

A test.

Sophia smiled at the interviewer. "Sometimes, life throws unexpected things your way." She turned to Damien, her voice softening. "But when you meet someone like him, it just… makes sense."

Damien held her gaze for a second too long.

Then he turned to the interviewer and said smoothly, "I knew the moment I saw her—she was mine."

Sophia's breath caught.

It wasn't just the words. It was the way he said them.

With complete certainty.

Evelyn Royce looked between them, intrigued. "So, what is it about Miss Reid that captivated you?"

Damien's lips curved slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. Calculating.

"She doesn't back down," he said. "She challenges me."

Sophia's pulse skipped.

That… wasn't a scripted answer.

Evelyn turned to her. "And you, Miss Reid? What drew you to Mr. Blackwood?"

Sophia's throat was dry.

Damien was still watching her, waiting.

She forced a smile. "Power."

The room went still.

Even Damien's expression flickered.

She leaned in slightly. "But not the kind you think. Damien isn't just powerful in business. He has a presence that demands attention."

Damien's gaze darkened.

Sophia knew what she had just done.

She had flipped the game.

The interviewer continued, but Sophia barely heard the rest.

Because as Damien reached for her hand—**placing it on his knee, holding it there as he answered the next question—**she realized something.

This wasn't just an arrangement anymore.

This was a battle.

And neither of them was backing down.