365 Days As His Property

Icy rain hammered the black marble tombstone and Aurora Thorne's bloodless face.

Her black mourning dress clung to her skin, soaked through and freezing. She felt nothing. Overwhelming grief and one crushing blow after another had left her numb.

Her father's funeral. The family bankruptcy. Twin mountains that had crushed her completely.

The mourners had long since departed, leaving only her and her mother clinging to each other. Her mother's quiet sobs were the only sound breaking the cemetery's deathly silence.

A sleek Rolls-Royce Cullinan glided to the cemetery entrance like a phantom of the night.

The door swung open. First came a jet-black umbrella, then a tall man emerged.

He too wore black, but his custom suit radiated power and wealth unlike the somber attire of the other mourners.

Kyle Vincent.

He'd come sooner than she'd expected.

Aurora's heart plummeted as she instinctively stepped in front of her mother.

Kyle advanced, his polished shoes moving across the wet grass with predatory silence.

His bodyguards trailed behind, maintaining a respectful yet menacing distance.

Rain traced the sharp angles of his face. His storm-gray eyes were cold and cutting, devoid of human emotion.

He halted before them, his gaze sliding past the weeping Mrs. Thorne to lock onto Aurora's face.

"Miss Thorne." His voice was deep and flat, colder than the rain. "I believe it's time to discuss your father's debt."

Aurora forced herself to meet his gaze, nails biting into her palm. "Mr. Vincent, we're burying my father today. Couldn't this wait?"

"Debts don't vanish with death," Kyle replied without hesitation, "just as rain doesn't stop falling for your grief. My time and patience are limited."

He raised his hand slightly. A bodyguard immediately produced a folder, which Kyle thrust before Aurora.

"Your father's loan agreement with his personal guarantee. Principal plus interest—an astronomical sum. In your family's current situation, you couldn't pay it off in a century."

Aurora stared at the staggering figures, her head spinning.

She knew her father's business had failed, leaving massive debt, but never imagined this amount—or that Kyle Vincent would be the creditor. The billionaire whose ruthlessness was legendary.

"We'll find a way…" Her voice held a weakness she despised.

"A way?" Kyle's lips curled into the ghost of a cold smile. "Your recently lost gallery job? Your mother's pitiful trust fund? Or perhaps your brother's expensive medication?"

He'd struck every vulnerability with surgical precision. Fear coiled around her heart like strangling vines.

He knew everything about her.

"What do you want?" Aurora's voice trembled slightly.

Kyle stepped closer, the umbrella creating a small private universe above them, shielding them from the rain.

His crisp cedarwood cologne mingled with rain, enveloping her with dangerous intensity.

"I have a solution." His gaze cut into hers like a scalpel. "Sign a contract with me. One year."

Aurora's pupils contracted. "What kind of contract?"

"Marriage." The word fell like a thunderclap. "You'll be my wife in name for one year. You'll obey my every command, live in my home, and play the perfect Mrs. Vincent in public. After one year, your father's debt vanishes."

Aurora stared at him as if he were insane. "You… what? Why?"

"My reasons aren't your concern." His tone brooked no argument. "Just answer: yes or no."

He paused, his gaze sliding to her trembling mother. His voice dropped to a deadly whisper.

"You know what refusal means. Not just debt collectors and court summons, but your brother's life-saving medication—gone. Trust me, I can make it happen."

Rain dripped from Aurora's hair, mingling with the hot tears she could no longer hold back.

She stared at him—handsome, wealthy, and utterly demonic—as he backed her into an impossible corner.

Dignity and freedom against her family's survival.

She had no choice.

Her mother's sobs, her brother's pale face flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes, drew in the cold air, and when she opened them, only empty calm remained.

"Pen." Her voice was hoarse but crystal clear.

Kyle's surprise at her decisiveness flickered briefly before vanishing. A bodyguard produced an expensive fountain pen.

Aurora didn't bother reading the contract; she knew it was pointless.

She went straight to the signature line and carved her name into the paper—

Aurora Thorne.

As she finished the final letter, all strength drained from her body. The pen slipped from her fingers into the mud.

Kyle retrieved the pen, glanced at her signature, and tucked away the contract.

"Good," he said coolly, tilting the umbrella to shield her completely. "From now on, you belong to me."

He turned to his bodyguard: "Take Mrs. Thorne home. Collect Miss Aurora's—no, Mrs. Vincent's—belongings and bring them to the apartment."

Two female bodyguards materialized, politely but firmly escorting the panicked Mrs. Thorne away. Another gestured for Aurora to follow to a second car.

Aurora cast one final glance at her father's tombstone. She knew the innocent girl named Aurora Thorne was now buried alongside him.

She straightened her spine and met Kyle Vincent's scrutinizing gaze as she walked toward the luxury car that represented her uncertain, humiliating future.

Fear still gripped her heart, but beneath it, the downpour had kindled a small flame of defiance and anger.

Whatever Kyle Vincent's purpose, she wouldn't surrender without a fight.