My Contract Husband Is A Cursed Billionaire

"No."

The word was quiet, but it landed in the center of the cavernous living room like a stone. Chloe Sharp didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.

Her brother, Jaleel, sighed, the sound full of a businessman's impatience. "Chloe, don't be difficult. Seraphina is not well. You will take her place."

"I said no."

Her gaze flickered to her younger sister, Seraphina, who was tucked under Jaleel's arm, her face a mask of delicate sorrow. She didn't look unwell at all. She looked triumphant.

"It will bring ruin to this family," Chloe stated, her voice flat. "I've told you. The vow I took..."

"We're tired of hearing about your mystical vow," her younger brother, Damarion, sneered. He lounged on the velvet armchair, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Tired of your stories from that little cult you ran off to."

Jaleel ignored her warning, his eyes cold and pragmatic. He gestured to the maid, Maeve O'Connell, who stood trembling by the doorway. "Maeve. Bring it here."

Maeve, a girl no older than Chloe, shuffled forward. Her hands shook as she held out a silver platter. On it sat a single, perfectly cut sandwich.

Chloe didn't need to see it up close. The scent hit her first, rich and unmistakable.

Peanut butter.

The air in her lungs seemed to turn to ice. Her stomach clenched into a tight, painful knot. It wasn't just an allergy; it was a promise of a swift, suffocating death.

She took a step back, her body acting before her mind could. "What are you doing?"

Jaleel's expression remained unchanged. He took the plate from Maeve. "The choice is simple. You either agree to marry Aurelio Finley, or you eat this sandwich."

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. This was it. This was how they were going to do it. Not with a gun, but with a sandwich.

Damarion chuckled, a low, ugly sound. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an EpiPen, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger. The orange and blue plastic was a beacon of life, and he was holding it just out of reach.

"Don't worry, sister," he said, his smile widening. "We have the antidote. Once you've made the right decision, of course."

The itch started in her throat, a phantom symptom born of pure terror. Her breath hitched. "You're insane."

"I'm practical," Jaleel corrected, stepping closer. He held the sandwich just inches from her face. The smell was overwhelming, a thick, cloying poison. "The Finley merger is everything. Our family's future depends on it."

"Sister, please," Seraphina whimpered from behind him, her voice choked with fake tears. "I can't marry him. They say he won't live another year. I don't want to be a widow."

Chloe's skin began to prickle. A faint rash was already blooming on her neck, a testament to how sensitive her body was. Her vision started to swim at the edges.

She tried to back