His Obsessive Claims, Her Twisted Submission

DOS AND DONT'S

Her grip loosened around the document. If not for the table, it'd have fallen on the floor.

"Pardon?"

"Be my wife for thirty days," he repeated, no pause in between. Same gaze.

"Your wife?" She batted her lids. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Didn't you say you'd do anything?"

"Anything to make my nerves return...not your wife—"

"Then, why the hesitation?"

Sapphire shook her head. "This isn't part of your work ethics..."

"Lecturing me about work ethics," his lips curved. "Do I look like someone who gives a damn about rules?"

He dragged himself up, danger radiating from him.

Sapphire's heart hammered against her ribcage when he started approaching her. Inwardly, her subconscious self was at the door, pulling the knob in order to escape from his office—him. The warning was loud, the scream was maddening, all hurling at her to leave while she still had the chance.

She heard them, but couldn't move from her chair. Not with the way his predatory eyes looked like they were forged in the deepest part of the darkest ocean. She could have used hell. Hell is red. His eyes are blue.

"You want your nerves back. I want to get involved in our family's business. It's a win for both of us."

"But," her voice went down. "You are my psychologist. In all sense, fixing me is your duty."

"Correct." He stopped by her side, angling his neck down to her. "The same cases can be handled differently. Your therapist took eight years and you barely saw results. I can follow the same process. Eight years, and you'll be back to normal, but thirty? This time isn't just following the usual fix-you method."

He paused, letting his confident-filled words seep down through her. "I'll call them out. If it doesn't work, I'll drag them out. The goal is, make you okay in thirty days."

"Why do you need a wife for your inheritance?" She asked after a long silence.

"When there are vultures circling around it, the only option to claim it is a wife," he replied.

Her finger brushed the document. She removed her eyes from Tristan and fixed them on the file. "What's written in the file?"

"Rules." His steps resumed again, circling around her in slow motion. "Every single thing you need to know is stated in the contract. Your role as my wife. My role as your psychologist. Time for your sessions. Dos and don'ts."

He pushed the chair back, and came to her front. Settling his hands on the armrests, he lowered himself until they were face to face with each other.

Sapphire's breathing heightened. She pulled herself back. He didn't bother coming closer.

"Make sure you read every single thing before signing. Get a lawyer if you have to."

"Y...you're so confident that it'll work."

"Yes I am," he smirked deeply. "People say my ways of working are cruel. Unethical. Unorthodox. So much bad feedback. But they work."

Searching his face for any sign of a hidden bluff, Sapphire found none. Only pure seriousness and in business.

He went straight and walked back to his chair. "You have twenty-four hours to make a decision."

Sapphire's eyes traced to the file, and back to him. "What if I file a complaint against you?"

He chuckled, low, darkly, almost threatening. "Until then. Have a nice day, Miss Smith," he dismissed.

--

As Sapphire left his office, she couldn't even run out like she did yesterday. She could only drag her feet while the weight of her bag pressed down on her hand. Why wouldn't the bag be heavy? For a document such as that.

The honking of the car made her realize she had gotten outside, and her car was waiting. Getting in like her life was fading away, she fastened her seatbelt.

"Where to, miss?"

Sapphire's stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since last night. She could have eaten this morning if only she hadn't heard those sounds and wasn't desperate enough to get back her senses.

"Stop at any nearby restaurant."

--

--[WILSON'S HOUSE]--

Sapphire sat in the vanity chair, staring at her reflection while unwrapping her head towel.

She returned a while ago, and luckily for her, she met Wilson and Yvonne all dressed up. Wilson thought telling her he was taking Yvonne on a date would make her sad, so he told her, and she couldn't have been happier, knowing that since she came into this house as a wife, this was the first time she'd received good news.

She's all alone staring at her reflection, and the documents that are laid on the bed.

Just how worse could her life be getting? She left the vanity and climbed onto her bed. Taking the black documents, she opened the first page. Her eyes caught the introduction, and what the agreement entailed. Next, her eyes caught the rules written like it wasn't typed with a keyboard, rather, with someone who'd be awarded for the world's neatest handwriting.

Rules

1. For the duration of thirty (30) days, Sapphire Smith shall belong exclusively to Tristan DeVille—body, mind and obedience.

2. Sapphire Smith shall accompany Tristan DeVille to his family dinner on Sunday as his wife—

Her phone rang out, interrupting her. Alyssa's name flashed brightly.

Sapphire's face lit up as she swiped the green button.

"I get that you belong to Wilson now, but before Wilson came into your life, I was already there," Alyssa whined from the other end.

"You live on s*x, Lys, if you get married, you wouldn't have the slightest time for me again."

"That's a lie, I know it."

"Can't believe I'm giggling after hearing you trying to defend marriage."

"Don't bully me, Sapph." They both laughed through the phone.

"Okay, fine." Sapphire gave up. "At least you're going to stick to one dick."

"Then, it isn't for me, Mrs. DeVille."

Sapphire felt the teasing voice in Alyssa's tone.

"That reminds me."

"What?"

"Wilson is employing new staff. He asked me to interview them. According to him, he trusts my judgments."

"Let mercy come upon Alyssa the single dog," Alyssa interrupted dramatically, and they laughed slowly.

"So, I was curious, what would your answer be?" Sapphire's eyes gazed at the door as she wondered how she was going to put the question without it sounding weird.

"If you had something rare, not in the good sense. The rare thing I mean is so deep that the world is mocking you. Then a solution offers itself, but the solution forces you to make some compromises. What will you do?"

"Illegal compromises?"

"Not illegal."

"Then I'm gonna scream f**k the world and do my thing. If it'll give me happiness and the solution I need, I'm going ahead. No one gives a f**k 'bout me, so who am I to care?"

Sapphire smiled. "Didn't know your answer would be this easy?"

Alyssa hummed. "So, tell me, is this question for you?"

"Why'd it be for me? I've already told you... it's more like a test of loyalty for the incoming workers."

"Makes sense."

Sapphire could imagine Alyssa rubbing her bottom lip. "I'm gonna hang up now."

"Yeah, I have to leave very early in the morning. But hey, find a way to fix an outing this weekend. I'm already forgetting what my girl looks like."

"Sure I—" Sapphire stopped before she could complete that statement, the first rule in the contract reoccurring in her head. "Not this weekend. Next week, I'll make it up to you."

"You dare not go back on your word."

Sapphire chuckled at the meanness in her voice. "Have I ever?"

"Great." The call went dead, and Sapphire took her phone down.

She exhaled, feeling bad for lying to Alyssa. She knew Alyssa would have fought for her, and made sure that she left the marriage, but she wanted to do it her own way. When she's done, she'll tell Alyssa everything that happened.

Her phone vibrated—not a text notification—a credit alert.

She locked her gaze on the amount credited to her, and the sender's name.

$30,000. Stanley Smith.

Her father just sent her usual monthly allowance. Immediately she transferred the whole amount to Hope Orphanage, then dialed the owner's number.

"Thank you so much, Sapphire, for this generosity," the lady said at first without waiting for Sapphire to speak.

"Don't thank me. I'm happy doing it."

"You've been funding this orphanage for years. Because of you, it kept growing."

"It's fine. It's the only thing I can do to help the poor. Take care."

The call ended, and the first message to appear on her screen was her remaining balance.

$80.

The money keeps going down, and she doesn't even know what to do. She had spent $25 at the restaurant, and that happened to be the only thing she ate today. The monthly allowance would have gone a long way, but she can't bring herself to accept the money. Ever since she turned twenty, she began donating all the allowance her dad sent to her. He's just a greedy man who'd sell his family for money if possible.

She tossed the phone on the bed, catching sight of the document again. Her heart sank, and she felt cold shivers run down her spine. Somehow, she didn't want to read the rest.

She stood, paced around. Sitting back, she picked up the file, and scooted back into the bed.

Opening the document, she went back to reading...

3. Sapphire Smith shall attend daily therapy sessions, which shall include s****l training as determined by Tristan DeVille.

4. Sapphire Smith shall sleep in any room of her choice, except Tristan DeVille's bed.

5. Sapphire Smith shall not refuse any s****l command issued by Tristan DeVille, except by the use of agreed safe word.

6. Tristan DeVille is permitted to leave marks on Sapphire Smith's body, and such marks shall not be concealed from him.

7. Tristan DeVille shall dedicate his full professional and personal efforts towards restoring Sapphire's sensory response within the thirty (30) days.

8. At the conclusion of the thirty (30) days, Sapphire Smith shall have the full right to leave the arrangement without obstruction.

9. Tristan DeVille shall not force Sapphire Smith into any public or family situation beyond the agreed Sunday dinner without her consent.

10. Both parties agree that the primary purpose of this contract is the restoration of Sapphire Smith's nerves and Tristan DeVille's almost to the family's business.

11. In the event either party wishes to terminate the agreement early, both must mutually agree in writing, except in cases involving the safe word or clear physical danger...

And she flipped to the next page with color draining off her face, reading more rules.