Selene’s POV
“Marrying Dominic Castellano is the worst decision I’ve ever made. But I have no choice.”
I stare at the contract in front of me, the words blurring together as my heart pounds. Marriage. To him.
I don’t want this. I don’t want him.
But Rosalie is still weak from her illness, her tiny body fighting to recover, and the hospital bills are piling up. Nothing could come close to the kind of care Dominic could provide.
And Rafael… he watches me with those same sharp eyes as his father, like he already knows something is wrong. Like he senses that his world is about to change.
I can’t risk losing them. So, here I am. Signing away my freedom.
The moment I put the pen down, Dominic takes the contract, his movements calm, calculated—like he knew I’d agree. Like he never doubted it.
“Smart choice,” he says, folding the papers neatly before tucking them into a folder.
I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. “Let’s get one thing straight,” I say, forcing my voice to stay strong. “This isn’t a real marriage. It’s a contract. Nothing more. This is for the twins.”
Dominic leans back in his chair, watching me with that infuriating smirk. “You think I want a real marriage with you?” His voice is smooth, unreadable. “Let’s be clear, Selene. This is about the twins. Nothing else.”
I nod stiffly, ignoring the way his words make my chest tighten. Good. That’s exactly what I want.
“There will be rules,” I say.
Dominic raises a brow, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“No intimacy,” I continue, staring him down. “No acting like a real couple. No sharing a bed. No pretending that this is anything more than what it is—a deal.”
He smirks, amused. “You think I’m desperate to get you in my bed?”
I hate how my face heats up, but I keep my expression neutral. “I think you get what I’m saying.”
Dominic watches me for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. No intimacy. No emotions. Just a contract.”
I exhale, relief washing over me—but it’s short-lived.
Because the moment I step into this arrangement, everything changes.
***
The ceremony is quick, cold, and completely devoid of love.
No flowers, no guests, no soft music playing in the background—just a courthouse, two signatures on a piece of paper, and a judge who barely glances at us before pronouncing us husband and wife.
I stand next to Dominic, my hands clenched at my sides, my breath shallow as the judge slides the marriage certificate toward us.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Castellano,” he says.
The words feel like a noose tightening around my neck.
Dominic picks up the certificate, his fingers brushing against mine as he turns toward me. His expression is unreadable, but his presence is suffocating.
“It’s done,” he says quietly, seeming like just a passing guest at the wedding.
It is. I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”
Dominic tilts his head slightly, as if assessing me. “No regrets?”
I force myself to hold his gaze. “Only that I didn’t have another choice.”
His jaw tightens for just a fraction of a second, but then his mask is back in place.
Two days later, I step into Dominic’s massive penthouse with a single suitcase in hand. But Rafael and Rosalie run through the grand living room, their laughter echoing against the marble floors, and for a brief moment, I let myself breathe.
They’ll be safe here. They’ll have everything I never could give them.
“Your room is down the hall,” Dominic says, appearing beside me. “And before you ask—yes, it’s separate from mine.”
I nod stiffly. “Good.”
His lips twitch like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Rafael and Rosalie explore their new home, the tension between us thick and unspoken.
“You’re not a prisoner, Selene,” he says finally.
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s funny, considering I already feel like one.”
Dominic exhales through his nose, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods toward the twins. “They’ll adjust quickly. You should too.”
I lift my chin. “I’ll adjust when this is over.”
His eyes darken, but before he can respond, Rosalie tugs at his sleeve.
“Can we see the big window again?” she asks, her eyes bright with excitement.
For the first time since this arrangement began, Dominic softens. It’s brief—a flicker of something I can’t place. But it’s there. He nods, lifting her into his arms like it’s second nature. “Yeah, kiddo. Let’s go.”
I watch them go, something twisting deep inside me. I don’t trust him. I can’t trust him.
***
A week flies by and one night, II find him in his office, staring at his laptop with a storm brewing in his expression.
I hesitate. “What is it?”
He doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he turns the screen toward me.
I step closer, my stomach dropping. It’s a scanned document. A hospital file. My hospital file.
“What the hell is this?” I whisper, my throat tight.
Dominic’s jaw clenches. “I had Lucian dig deeper into what happened the night you were in the hospital.”
I can barely breathe.
“And?”
His gaze meets mine, sharp, furious.
“Someone bribed the hospital to mark your third baby…our son, as deceased.”