CONTRACT SIGNED
1678 Words
Sapphire stood at the front door of the person she shouldn't even see again. The man behind that door should be taken to court and questioned about his ethical values. Whatever he told her is against every ethical moral and principle. The evidence is inside her purse. She should be getting him arrested, but here she is, gathering enough courage to face him so she could knock on his door.
She knocked, then waited.
Nothing happened. A minute had passed, the door hadn't opened on its own. All the times she's come here, she's gotten used to the door opening on its own, but today, it seemed like she'd be the one to open the door. She's going to open the door herself and walk into the danger that awaits her. No one's forcing her. She could go back if she wanted.
Summoning enough courage, she pushed the door open. The first thing she saw was him, sitting like a king. No, not a king. A king knows his duty towards his people. The one before her, he's a devil. Yes. He doesn't care if what he's doing is wrong as long as it serves his interests, and her—coming in here means treading his exact path. Opening the door to hell, walking into it, and closing herself in it.
"I..." She didn't know what to say.
"It's three minutes until twenty-four hours."
"I know that," she replied, and nobody said a thing. They were both waiting. Why did he suddenly go silent? She had no idea, but she didn't know what to say.
An alarm dinged.
Tristan adjusted himself. "Twenty-four hours."
Sapphire walked to the chair, sat down and carefully placed the document on the table.
"Have you read everything?"
She nodded.
"Especially the last one?"
"If any party develops feelings for the other, that's the end of the agreement. Both for future deals. Don't worry. I've been broken enough that love is the last thing in my dictionary." Surprisingly, she didn't blink while holding that deep eye contact with him.
"So, you're agreeing to be my contract wife for the next thirty days?"
"Recovering my lost senses matters the most to me," she answered truthfully.
"And your husband?" He asked slowly as he was studying her.
Sapphire inhaled. "Leave him out of this. I come first."
"Good." He stood, and crossed the table to her side.
Stopping centimeters away from her, he took out a pen from his pocket and handed it over to her.
She collected the weirdly black pen, and her eyes caught a T. The T drew the conclusion that the pen might be customized since it was the first time she'd seen such a pen.
Flipping the document to the required place for signature, she felt his breath hot on her neck.
She froze.
"Once you sign, there's no going back."
"There is an option that allows termination before the thirty days end?"
"It isn't as easy as you think."
"Like I said before, I'm doing everything for myself." She didn't wait for further talk as she wrote her signature on the document.
Tristan collected the pen from her, and wrote his signature in the space meant for him.
Sapphire's eyes were fixed on the paper, wondering how somebody's signature could be so neat.
Closing the file with a soft slam, he looked at her. "Congratulations Sapphire Smith. You officially belong to Tristan DeVille. You'll receive a copy of the document before the day ends."
"Do I have to live with you?" She asked in a low mutter.
"All my belongings don't stay outside," he replied curtly. "Tomorrow is the dinner. Somebody will come for you. Prepare any important belongings you wish to take, otherwise you can choose to leave them."
She rose to her feet. "When does my treatment start?"
"Tomorrow, after the dinner."
She pressed her lips together, watching him as he put the file inside the drawer. The way her heart was beating could make a pop beat. The fact that she's married, and also in a contract marriage—technically she's married to two men at this point. Then the upcoming dinner. The paranoia she gets whenever it's mentioned.
"I'll get going," she announced and stood.
Tristan nodded in approval as she left his office.
Hurrying out of the suffocating building, she began breathing heavily. The whole feeling seems to be regular and something she can't get used to. The building, strange lady, door, and worst of all, him.
She took out the phone, and wanted to call her driver when someone came to her bowing slightly. "Sir asked me to drop you wherever you wished to."
She lowered her phone, shocked, and blinked. "S...sir?"
"Yes ma'am. Tristan sent me here."
"O...oh," she couldn't speak properly as she traced her gaze upward, hoping to catch sight of him.
The ocean-blue eyes were not staring. No sight of him. Looking closely, she saw something that looked like smoke escaping out of the window.
Taking her gaze back to the man, she asked, "When did he call you?"
"A while ago."
She glanced at the car, and her eyes bulged widely.
A black SUV.
She had to rub her eyes to be sure they weren't deceiving her.
She's going to ride in an SUV. Unlike Alyssa, who knows materialistic things and the prices, she has never taken interest in such, but from what she's heard, it's one of the biggest cars in the world.
Forget the SUV, she hasn't even smelled the inside of a Lamborghini. Her stubbornness doesn't allow her to accept gifts from her father, and Wilson—they barely had a proper outing. Even when they fixed one, she always comes with her small Highlander.
"Get in, ma'am."
"Okay." She looked up again, hoping to at least see even his shadow. All she got was thick and dark.
Is his office on fire?
--
[WILSON'S HOUSE]
The car pulled over at Wilson's house. "Sir asked me to give you this." The driver stretched his hands, which contained a small bag.
"What's in there?" Sapphire asked, collecting the bag.
"You'll know when you open it."
Sapphire didn't ask more questions. From his expression, she knew he wouldn't answer more questions from her.
Alighting from the car, she waited until he drove away before going inside the house.
Colors drained from her face when she saw Wilson standing as if he had been waiting for someone.
He saw her. The look Sapphire had come to recognize after their wedding flashed in his eyes. Disgust. Loser. Mockery.
"Where are you coming from?"
Sapphire looked behind her, wondering if he was talking to her.
"Is that a question for...me?"
"Who dropped you off?" he asked again. "And that, too, in an SUV?"
Sapphire laughed, staring at him like a clown. "Is the cheat of a man trying to play the detective husband?"
"f*****g answer me!" he thundered.
"That tone won't work on me!" She yelled back, eyes getting drowned with hatred. "You haven't been caring about my whereabouts, I'd suggest we keep it that way. You have no right to question me."
"The public sees us as a perfect couple, and that's what I'm upholding. You have no right to see another man!"
"Do you think I give a f**k about the public? I'm Sapphire, the unvalued girl. A joke to her Dad. A robot to Wilson. I have no importance to the public. Why does it matter to me?" she glared.
Wilson's eyes went wide, shocked at the sudden confidence. He stormed and made to grab her arm. Before he could touch her,
"Baby," Yvonne said from upstairs.
Wilson balled his fist, bringing his hand down.
Sapphire blinked and looked away, not in the mood to see the s**t they'd display in front of her in the name of love.
Without looking at them, she heard the pop sound, and the moan that escaped Yvonne's lips. No doubt, they're doing everything to remind her of her position in this house.
"You made a promise?" Yvonne's arm went around his neck.
"Have I ever broken my promise?" Wilson faced Sapphire.
"You are going to pretend to be sick."
Sapphire furrowed her brow. "Why'd I do that?"
"There's a family dinner tomorrow. Yvonne will come in your place."
"You're disgusting." She spat in hatred and went to her room, not sparing them a single glance.
"You think she'd agree?" Wilson asked absentmindedly.
--
[GUEST ROOM]
Sapphire, having made sure she locked the door, went to the wardrobe and brought out a bag. Settling it on the bed, she unzipped the bag and lifted the cover. A small smile grazed her lips when she saw the medium-sized box inside. Taking out the box, she unlocked it and saw her precious possessions and materials inside—her painting materials.
"I haven't touched this in days." She kissed the lock. "Guess you're the only thing I'll take." She kept it on the bed and looked at her box inside the wardrobe. "I'll come for this one after the dinner."
A phone buzzed.
She reached for her purse and took out her phone. Her brow knitted together when she saw there was nothing on her phone. No text. No call.
"Then what..." She trailed, catching the small bag the driver had given her.
Getting hold of the bag, she peeked inside and saw the light of something that looked like a phone flashing.
She took it out, realizing it was a burner phone. There's an SMS.
Tristan: Contact me using this phone. If you don't have something nice to wear, I'll have someone send it. Someone will come for you tomorrow. Time: 6:30 PM.
Sapphire looked at her box, then began typing back.
Sapphire: No need. I have something to wear. Can you not send anybody to come here? Text me the address and I'll come there myself.
She clicked send.
Almost immediately it ticked two, meaning he had read it.
She waited for his reply.
Ten seconds.
Thirty.
A minute.
Two.
Three.
No reply.
- Writer
