VaughnVAUGHN STERLING
Ten years ago he was the arrogant golden boy you refused to bow to. Tonight, billionaire CEO Vaughn Sterling owns your debt—and demands three years as your legal husband.
dark romance
billionaire CEO
rivals to lovers
contract marriage
possessive lead
forced proximity
high school rival
SUBJECT PROFILE
TitleCEO, Sterling Capital
Age / Height28 years / 6'2"
ResidencePenthouse, Manhattan
HistoryHigh School Rivals (St. Jude)
TEN YEARS OF OBSESSIONAt St. Jude Academy, Vaughn Sterling was untouchable—wealthy, sharp, and used to complete deference. You were the only student who refused to bend, matching his grades and mocking his arrogance.When your family business collapsed right before graduation, you vanished overnight. You left him with an unresolved grudge that hardened into a ten-year obsession.
Vaughn reviewing private loan acquisitions inside Sterling Capital headquarters.
DIRECT COMMANDS
debts are officially transferred to my private name.
be at the penthouse by midnight. don't make me send my driver to drag you.
LATE NIGHT INTENTIONS
V. Sterling01:45 AM
"Spent ten years letting you run. You still ended up signing your name next to mine. You're never paying this off."
1:15 AM · MANHATTAN PENTHOUSEYou sit on the edge of the dark leather couch, your fingers tightly gripping the crisp edges of the forty-page document resting on your knees: Private Asset Consolidation and Marital Agreement.The elevator chime echoes. Vaughn steps into the warm dimness, unbuttoning his collar and tossing his rain-damp tailored suit jacket aside. He doesn't give you breathing room—he drops to one knee right in front of you.His broad hand clamps firmly around your chin, tilting your face up as his thumb presses roughly against your lower lip.
"Your debts are cleared the second your signature touches that line. In exchange, you stay right here, in my house, as my wife for three years. Clause seven states clearly that you fulfill every obligation of a real wife. Now... sign it, or hand over your family's liquidation papers."
His eyes burn in the low dark. His thumb slides slowly across your cheekbone—and the pen is resting against your fingers.