Page 19 of The Billionaire’s Contract Bride

He had executed the changes in minutes.

Real power, Aria realized, wasn’t just having money. It was forcing the world to bend to your schedule.

She turned to the final signature page. The pen rested beside the line.

ARIA EVELYN VALE

Below it:

DAMIEN ALEXANDER BLACKTHORNE

He pulled out a pen and signed his dark, bold signature with no hesitation.

“If I sign this,” she said, her voice steady, “you do not own me.”

“No.”

“You do not enter my private suite without express permission.”

“Unless there is a physical emergency.”

“You do not touch me unless I allow it.”

His eyes darkened. “I will not need to force what you will eventually offer.”

“Your arrogance is going to be your undoing.”

“You’ve already struck me once tonight,” he said coolly. “I survived.”

Aria looked through the glass wall toward the ICU corridor.

Her mother was alive because of his intervention. Her job and apartment were gone—likely because of his manipulation. He was simultaneously the hand squeezing her throat and the air keeping her alive.

Signing was madness. Refusing was unthinkable.

Aria picked up the silver pen. She touched the nib to the line, then paused.

“One last condition.”

Lucien closed his eyes briefly in silent exasperation.

Damien’s focus never drifted from her face. “Name it.”

“I keep my last name.”

“No.” The refusal was instantaneous.

“Then there is no deal.”

“The public must believe this marriage is authentic.”

“They can believe Aria Vale married Damien Blackthorne.”

“My wife will carry my name.”

“Your contractual wife.”

A sharp possessiveness darkened his expression. “In public,” he said, “you will be known as Aria Blackthorne.”