The Billionaire’s Debt: His Contracted Student Bride

Chapter 5: The Silent Breakfast

​The morning sun over Ikoyi didn't creep in; it shattered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my suite, blindingly bright and unforgiving. I woke up draped in silk that felt too smooth against my skin, a stark contrast to the rough cotton sheets I was used to in the village.

​By 6:55 AM, I was standing in the dining hall. The room was a cathedral of glass and pale wood, smelling of freshly ground Arabica beans and something sweet—burnt sugar and vanilla.

​Alexander was already there.

​He sat at the head of a table long enough to host a small wedding, his attention fixed on a thin tablet. He was dressed in a charcoal vest over a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that looked like they were carved from granite.

​"Sit," he said, without looking up.

​A steward appeared out of the shadows, moving with the silence of a ghost. He placed a plate in front of me: poached eggs dusted with herbs, smoked salmon that shimmered like pink silk, and a small bowl of exotic berries. The steam from my coffee rose in a delicate ribbon, carrying the rich, nutty aroma of a world I didn't belong to.

​I picked up the fork. It was heavy, made of solid silver, and cold enough to make my fingers ache. The first bite of the egg was rich and buttery, but it felt like ash in my throat.

​"You haven't touched your coffee, Cynthia," Alexander remarked, finally setting the tablet down. His silver-grey eyes pinned me to the chair. In the morning light, they looked like polished chrome.

​"I'm not used to... all of this," I managed to say, my voice sounding small in the vast, quiet room.

​"Get used to it," he snapped, his tone as sharp as a razor. "Today, Marcus will take you to several boutiques. You represent the Sterling Group now. That means you don't wear university hoodies. You wear armor."

​He stood up, the chair scraping against the marble floor with a sound that made my teeth edge. He leaned over the table, his shadow stretching across my plate. "And remember the rule: No contact with the outside world. Not even your father. Until the first stage of the debt is cleared, you are mine."

​He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing like drumbeats. I looked down at the expensive meal, the steam still rising from the cup, and realized that even the most delicious food tastes like nothing when you’re eating it in a cage.