The Richards mansion was eerily silent at night, its vast corridors illuminated by dim golden lights. Cynthia stood in the lavish bedroom, feeling lost amidst the luxury that was meant to suffocate her into submission.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. The weight of her decision was pressing down on her harder than she had anticipated. The reality of her contract marriage was setting in, and she wasn't sure how much of it she could handle.

Her phone buzzed.

She reached for it on the nightstand, frowning when she saw the caller ID.

Collins!!

Her heart skipped a beat.

She hesitated before answering.

“Collins?” She whispered.

“Cyn, want the hell is...