Chapter 6: A Proposal Without Love

The days following her humiliating encounter with Killian Blackwood were filled with a suffocating silence. Isla tried to move on, tried to focus on her work, but the weight of his dismissal clung to her like a curse. She spent her nights tossing and turning, replaying their last conversation over and over again in her mind.

Then, the summons came.

It was abrupt—a call from an unknown number, followed by a sleek black car arriving at her apartment doorstep. The driver, a man with a stony expression, handed her a single piece of paper: *Killian Blackwood requests your presence. No refusals.*

She wanted to ignore it. She should have. But something inside her burned with the need to confront him, to demand answers for his cruel indifference. The frustration, the pain, the anger—all of it surged within her, and before she could rationalize, she was getting into the car.

And so, she went.

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The Blackwood estate loomed ahead like a fortress, its grand entrance flanked by towering iron gates. Isla gritted her teeth as she was led through the vast hallways. Everything about this place screamed dominance, power, control.

A butler opened the door to a dimly lit study, where Killian stood behind an ornate mahogany desk, swirling whiskey in a crystal glass. He didn’t look up immediately, as if she were an afterthought. The air in the room was thick, heavy with tension.

“You finally decided to stop running,” he said, his voice smooth, cold, calculated.

Isla clenched her fists. “You’re the one who disappeared. I spent weeks trying to reach you.”

Killian set his glass down with a soft clink. “I had no reason to stay.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “You had every reason to, but you chose to ignore them.”

His dark gaze met hers, unyielding. “Which brings us to why you’re here.”

She crossed her arms, bracing herself. “Go on.”

Killian reached into a folder on his desk and pulled out a stack of papers, sliding them toward her. “Read it.”

Isla hesitated before picking up the document. Her eyes skimmed the words, and her blood ran cold.

*A legally binding contract of marriage between Killian Blackwood and Isla Carter…*

Her breath caught. She looked up sharply. “You’re joking.”

His expression didn’t change. “I don’t joke.”

A sudden rage boiled within her. “You ignored me for weeks. You blocked my calls. And now you want to marry me?”

Killian leaned back in his chair, watching her with an unreadable expression. “It’s the best course of action.”

“For who? You?” she snapped. “You don’t even care about me, Killian. This is about your reputation, isn’t it?”

His lips curled in a smirk. “Perceptive as always. You’re carrying my child, Isla. Do you know what kind of scandal that would bring if it got out? The media would feast on it, and my company would take a hit. I won’t allow that.”

Her fingers curled around the document, crumpling the edges. “So, you want to make me your wife just to control the narrative?”

Killian’s expression was impassive. “Marriage ensures stability. It benefits both of us.”

“Benefits?” she repeated, incredulous. “You abandoned me, and now you want to ‘fix’ things with a contract? No love, no feelings—just a convenient arrangement?”

He stood, walking around the desk until he was mere inches from her. The air between them crackled with tension. His towering presence made her pulse race, but not out of desire—out of pure, unfiltered anger.

“What were you expecting, Isla? A confession of undying love? Romantic declarations?”

She hated the way her heart clenched at his words. “I expected nothing from you, Killian. But I won’t be bought.”

His gaze darkened. “Then consider this: If you refuse, I will still claim my child. I will ensure my bloodline remains intact, with or without your consent.”

A shiver ran through her. “You wouldn’t—”

He tilted his head. “Wouldn’t I?”

Isla’s breath hitched. This wasn’t just about a proposal—it was a warning. A promise.

Her hands trembled as she looked down at the contract again. She was trapped in his world now, whether she liked it or not.

Killian Blackwood always got what he wanted.

And this time, what he wanted… was her.

Silence stretched between them, suffocating, until she forced herself to speak. “What happens if I sign this?”

Killian studied her carefully. “You’ll have my name. My protection. You and the child will want for nothing.”

She scoffed. “And in return?”

He leaned closer, his breath fanning her cheek. “You’ll be my wife. You’ll play the role. And you will obey.”

Her stomach twisted. “You make it sound like a prison sentence.”

Killian smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Call it whatever you like, Isla. But you should know one thing—if you refuse, I won’t go easy on you. I will fight for full custody, and with my power, you won’t stand a chance.”

Isla’s breath caught. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. The thought of losing her baby, of not having a say in her child’s life, sent a wave of panic through her.

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You’re a monster.”

Killian’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m a businessman.”

Isla swallowed hard, staring at the contract in her trembling hands. She was out of options.

And Killian Blackwood knew it.