Page 20 of The Billionaire’s Contract Bride

“Legally, I remain Aria Vale.”

“Hyphenate it.”

“No.”

Damien stared at her so intensely that Lucien quietly stepped out of the room. How unfortunate that the lawyers did not have the same ability.

“Vale remains your legal surname,” Damien conceded at last. “Blackthorne for all public matters.”

“Agreed.”

Aria signed her name. The pen scratched against the heavy parchment, every stroke closing the door on her old life.

When she finished, Damien placed his hand over the page—not over her hand, but directly over her written name. His thumb brushed over the wet ink, smudging it slightly.

“It’s done,” she whispered.

“No,” he said, closing the leather binder. “The contract is done.”

Aria felt a knot form in her stomach. “What’s the difference?”

Damien took her injured hand gently. He waited until she gave a slight nod before unwrapping the bloody handkerchief. His touch was surprisingly precise and careful as he inspected the palm cut.

“The difference,” he murmured, “is that tomorrow morning, you become my wife.”

Aria went still. “Tomorrow?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“You said I had forty-eight hours.”

“You used three.”

His thumb traced the uninjured skin near her wrist—an intimate gesture that made her chest tighten.

Then he let go.

“Sleep while you can, Aria.” Damien stood tall, looking down at her with cold, dark satisfaction. “It will be your last night without my name.”

Chapter Four: Blackthorne House

At two seventeen in the morning, Aria learned that relief could be as exhausting as grief.

Her mother was alive. Stable, the nurse had called it. Not safe, not recovering, but stable.

For seven minutes, Aria stood beside Evelyn’s bed in intensive care, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. She memorized the warmth of her mother’s fingers, the steady rhythm on the heart monitor, and every reassuring detail the nurse offered.

Then security asked her to leave.

Not hospital security. Damien’s.

“She needs rest,” Lucien said quietly from the doorway.

Aria leaned down, kissing her mother’s forehead softly. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“You’ll be getting married in the morning,” Damien corrected from behind her.

She straightened slowly.