I’m in love with you demon; contract marriage

It took them hours to reach the mansion. Along the way, she hadn't seen a single house—just endless rows of trees. At times, her eyes played tricks on her, making her think she spotted rooftops through the dense woods. But no, it was always just more trees.

' A demon living in the forest', she thought, and a chill ran down her spine.

By the time they arrived, night had fallen, and the mansion stood exactly as she had pictured it—dark, imposing, and eerily silent. She stepped out of the car, flanked by bodyguards, the weight of the journey still pressing on her shoulders.

As they crossed the threshold, an old man hurried forward to greet them, his movements quick but deliberate, as if he'd been waiting for their arrival

"Welcome young miss" He bowed and Evelyn also bowed slightly

"You must be exhausted, let me lead you to your room," He said with a bright smile and Evelyn also smiled back.

She felt a flicker of relief. At least there was someone in this cold, foreboding mansion who seemed to have a free spirit. But as she stepped further inside, her relief quickly faded.

Everything was black. The curtains, the flooring, even the intricate designs on the furniture—it was all drenched in darkness. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, trying to push down her unease.

The silence was suffocating, broken only by the sharp echoes of their footsteps on the polished floor. Each step seemed to stretch the tension as if the house itself was listening.

The old man suddenly stopped by a large door.

"Young miss, this is the master's bedroom". He said and she stared at him immediately.

'Wait what? Is he here? Is she going to spend the night with him? Oh no, she is not ready at all' she thought, trembling.

" The boss is on a business trip at the moment. I apologize if I wronged you in any way. I just think you might be exhausted from the journey and want you to rest here. If you don't mind I will lead you to your room" The old man said as if reading her mind

" No, it's okay. I'm okay. And you don't wrong me. I'm sorry for reacting that way". She said and bowed slightly before she opened the door and entered into the room

She stepped into a vast, shadowy room, her breath hitching as she took in her surroundings. To her surprise—and unease—every single color in the house seemed to be black.

Her gaze swept across the space. The walls were adorned with dark, unsettling paintings, their subjects obscured in shadows but sinister enough to send chills crawling down her spine. Even the bedsheets were black, blending seamlessly into the oppressive gloom.

Night had already fallen, and the faint light filtering through the windows did little to soften the room's ominous aura. Instead, the darkness seemed to press in, making the room feel colder and more menacing than she had expected.

She sank into the bathtub, her thoughts swirling as heavily as the water around her.

She was so scared, what if she ended up making a mistake that cost her her life? She trembled and realized that she had been in the water for so long.

Realizing she'd been in the tub far too long, she hastily finished, wrapping herself in a towel before stepping out. She headed to the master bedroom, her footsteps echoing in the eerie silence.

The first thing she noticed was a neatly folded set of black pajamas lying on the edge of the bed. She glared at them. 'Never in my life will I wear these blasted things', she thought, her jaw tightening. Everything in this house screamed darkness—no, screamed him. The house alone was a reflection of his demonic nature, each black curtain, bedsheet, and shadowed corner speaking volumes about who he was.

Grateful she'd packed her own clothes, she pulled out a comfortable outfit she had brought and slipped it on. Then, reluctantly, she approached the king-sized bed. The duvet and sheets were all black, blending into the oppressive atmosphere of the room. She clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to scream. How I detest black things, she thought bitterly.

But now, her husband was a demon—a ruthless man who seemed to find solace in the darkness. Anger flared as she turned toward the door. Her hand reached for the doorknob, and she froze halfway. The thought of summoning the staff to change the sheets felt like a small rebellion. But then a chilling memory washed over her: He doesn't give second chances.

Her anger drained away, replaced by a numbing fear. What if I end up on his bad side from the start? What if he kills me? Slowly, she let go of the knob, her fingers trembling.

Dragging her feet, she shuffled back to the bed. The cold, black expanse of the sheets loomed in front of her. This was her reality now, whether she liked it or not.

She sat down slowly beside the bed, her fingers brushing against the soft, black duvet. Her gaze lingered on the expanse of the bed, its dark sheets seeming to swallow the faint light in the room. After a long moment, she lay down, pulling the duvet over herself. Surprisingly, it wasn't as suffocating as she had imagined.

Her eyes wandered to the empty side of the bed. She'd never pictured her wedding night like this—alone, in a strange, foreboding mansion.

Thank God he is a workholic, she thought, her lips curving into a faint, bitter smile.

What would she have done if he were here? What could she possibly say to him? She wasn't ready to face him—not tonight, not anytime soon. The very idea of sharing this bed with him made her heart hammer in her chest. She let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.

Thank God, she whispered again, almost to reassure herself. Thank God he is a workaholic.

Closing her eyes, she willed herself to relax. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her, and before she knew it, the darkness of sleep overtook her.