Chapter 2 The Deal of a Lifetime

Ethan's POV

The headboard slammed against the wall like a piston, over and over, matching every brutal thrust I drove into her.

She was on all fours, ass up, moaning like a porn star while I fucked her raw and deep from behind.

My fingers dug hard into her hips, pulling her back onto my cock with each savage stroke. Skin slapped against skin, loud and filthy. Sweat dripped down my chest.

“Oh God, Ethan! Harder—fuck me harder!” She cried, pushing back desperately.

I gave her exactly what she wanted, pounded into her tight pussy without mercy, reaching around to rub her clit roughly until she shattered, screaming as her walls clenched and pulsed around me.

I didn’t slow down. A few more punishing thrusts and I came hard, growling as I spilled deep inside her, not giving a fuck about anything else.

The second it was over, the numbness returned.

I pulled out, climbed off the bed, and yanked on my boxers. She tried to roll over and reach for me, maybe some of those “after sex cuddles” or some bullshit intimacy I had zero interest in.

“Take your stuff and get lost,” I said coldly, already grabbing my jeans.

“Are you serious?” Her voice cracked, eyes filled with hurt.

I tossed a thick envelope stuffed with cash onto the bed. It landed with a heavy thud. “There’s your bonus. Now get the fuck out.”

She dressed quickly, sniffling. The door slammed behind her moments later and silence swallowed the penthouse again.

I stared at myself in the mirror, at my dark messy hair, at my tight jaw and hollow eyes. Then a deep feeling settled into me, forcing my head into my hands.

Another meaningless fuck. Another night trying to outrun the emptiness my father’s ultimatum had carved into me.

I checked my Rolex. 16.00

Time to meet the candidate.

I shrugged on a crisp black shirt and blazer, then headed down in the private elevator, reminding myself why I was doing this on the way down.

It's for what I love, racing. For the empire I so desired to lead. For the wealth that belonged to no other but me.

This wasn’t pleasure. This was business. A contract marriage to secure the Blackwood empire and everything that comes with it, the entire racing legacy.

One woman. One heir. Then it all disappears.

Simple.

Claire's POV

The café was too damn bright and expensive for my faded hoodie and frayed jeans. I felt like an imposter among the polished marble and designer handbags.

I sat painfully straight with my hands clasped tightly in my lap, refusing to fidget.

When the man I believed to be Ethan Blackwood walked in, the air shifted. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating raw power, everything the message and lawyer described.

He slid into the seat across from me like he owned the place, maybe he probably does!

He was even more intimidating in person. Sharp jaw, dark intense eyes, and the kind of presence that screamed danger and money.

He didn’t smile, just studied me like I was a race car he was deciding whether to buy.

His lawyer, Peter Walsh, cleared his throat by my side. “Mr. Blackwood, this is Ms. Sinclair. Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Blackwood.”

I extended my hand. He ignored it completely, leaning back and regarding me with those piercing eyes.

I slowly refunded my hand to its place. I guess that's how we'll play it, no hard feelings.

“Why are you here, Miss Sinclair?” His voice was low, lazy, but loaded.

“I need the money,” I answered bluntly, holding his gaze.

A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Straight to the point. How refreshing.”

“My father needs surgery. It costs millions. I don’t have time for games or sob stories,” I explained further.

He tapped his fingers on the table, eyes never leaving mine for a second. “And you’re willing to sell your womb, marry me on paper for it?”

My cheeks burned, but I kept my chin up anyway. “I’m renting out my body and time. Big difference,” I corrected and his eyes widened slightly. “I carry your child, we divorce after the birth, and I walk away with enough to save my father. That’s the deal.”

Something flickered in his eyes, the kind of look you give someone who's getting in your face. He leaned forward, voice dropping to a rough whisper that sent unwanted heat down my spine.

“You’ll follow every medical order. You’ll live under my roof during the pregnancy period if I say so. Once the baby is born, you disappear from our lives. In return, I’ll pay you ten million dollars, plus all medical costs covered. But if you fuck with me, Claire…” His eyes darkened. “You’ll learn exactly how ruthless a Blackwood can be.”

The tension between us crackled, thick and electric. His stare was possessive, almost hungry.

I should have been terrified. Should have.

Instead, my pulse raced.

Peter slid the thick contract folder across the table. My hand trembled slightly as I picked up the pen, but I forced it steady anyway while reading between the lines.

This is for my father. For his life.

I signed on the dotted line, each stroke sealing my fate.

As I pushed the folder back, a chill ran down my spine. I had just signed a deal with the devil — a gorgeous, arrogant, dangerously magnetic devil who would own my body for the next year.

And something told me Ethan Blackwood wouldn’t let me go as easily as the contract promised.