The billionaire possession

"Run," Julian said. He did not look at Elara Vance. He did not look at the stained glass shattering above the altar. He only looked at the side exit. Julian Rossi was a coward in a three thousand dollar suit. He dropped Elara’s hand. He shoved a bridesmaid out of his way. He vanished into the smoke. Elara Vance stood alone. The white silk of her gown felt like a shroud. The chapel doors were gone. Wood splinters littered the aisle. Men in black masks moved through the pews. They did not shout. They did not hesitate. They fired with a rhythmic precision that sounded like a heavy machine. "Please," Elara’s father whispered. Arthur Vance was on his knees. He was reaching for a leather briefcase. A man in a mask stepped on Arthur’s hand. The sound of bones snapping was lost in the screams of the guests. The man did not shoot Arthur. He waited. Adrian Volkov walked through the ruins. He did not wear a mask. He did not carry a gun. He wore a charcoal suit that cost more than the chapel. He stepped over the body of a security guard. He did not look down. His eyes were fixed on Elara. They were the color of ice in a dead sea. "The wedding is over," Adrian said. His voice was quiet. It carried over the sound of the sirens in the distance. The gunmen stopped firing. They formed a perimeter around the altar. They stood like statues. "You are early," Elara said. Her voice shook. She gripped the stems of her lilies until the green juice stained her gloves. She refused to look at the bodies. She refused to look at the blood ruining the white carpet. She stared at Adrian. "I am exactly on time," Adrian said. "The debt matured at noon. It is twelve past." Adrian walked toward her. He moved with a slow grace. He stopped three feet away. He smelled like expensive tobacco and cold iron. He ignored the c*****e. He ignored the sobbing guests hiding under the pews. "My father paid you," Elara said. "He told me the Rossi marriage settled everything." Adrian looked at Arthur Vance. Arthur was still on the floor. Arthur was weeping. "Your father lied," Adrian said. "The Rossi family does not have the liquid assets to cover a Vance failure. They were using your dowry to pay their own debts. It was a circle of lies. I decided to break the circle." Adrian reached out. He grabbed Elara’s chin. His fingers were cold. He forced her to look at the briefcase near Arthur’s shattered hand. "What is in there?" Elara asked. "The truth," Adrian said. "And your bill of sale." Adrian let go of her. He turned to his men. He gave a small nod. Two of the gunmen grabbed Arthur Vance by the collar. They dragged him toward the altar. They threw him at Adrian’s feet. "Adrian please," Arthur begged. "I can get the money. Give me a week. Give me forty eight hours." "You had three years," Adrian said. "You used my capital to fund a lifestyle you could not afford. You gambled on the docks. You gambled on the market. You lost. Now I collect." Adrian looked at Elara again. He looked at her like a jeweler inspecting a flawed diamond. "She is beautiful," Adrian said. "A bit thin. But she has your eyes, Arthur. The same eyes that look for an exit when the room gets hot." "Don't touch her," Arthur whispered. Adrian laughed. It was a dry sound. It had no humor in it. "I already bought her," Adrian said. "The contract is signed. The Rossi wedding was a breach of our agreement. This m******e is the penalty fee." Adrian reached into his jacket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. He tossed it onto Elara’s lap. She did not catch it. It slid down her dress and hit the floor. "Read it," Adrian commanded. Elara knelt. She picked up the paper. The ink was dark. Her father’s signature was at the bottom. It was dated six months ago. The words were clear. In the event of a default, all personal and private assets of the Vance estate would be transferred to Volkov Holdings. Her name was listed under the assets. "You sold me," Elara whispered. She looked at Arthur. Her father would not meet her eyes. He was looking at the boots of the gunmen. "I had no choice," Arthur said. "He was going to kill me, Elara. He was going to take everything anyway." "He already took everything," Elara said. She felt a coldness spread through her chest. It was worse than the fear. It was a hollow weight. She looked at the man she was supposed to marry. Julian was gone. She looked at the man who gave her life. He was a coward. "The car is waiting," Adrian said. He stepped closer. He wrapped his hand around Elara’s upper arm. His grip was firm. It was not meant to hurt. It was meant to show her she could not move. "I am not going anywhere with you," Elara said. She tried to pull away. Adrian did not budge. He was a wall of muscle and stone. "You can stay here," Adrian said. "The Rossi family will be back. They will blame you for the m******e. They will take their anger out on your skin. Or you can walk out with me. I am the only thing standing between you and a shallow grave." Elara looked at the chapel doors. The sirens were closer now. The police would come. But the police worked for men like Adrian. The police would ask questions. The Rossi family would seek revenge. "Where are you taking me?" Elara asked. "Home," Adrian said. "To my home." Adrian did not wait for her to agree. He began to walk. He dragged Elara toward the exit. Her heels clicked against the stone floor. Her veil caught on a splintered pew and tore. She did not stop to fix it. "Adrian!" Arthur yelled. "What about me?" Adrian stopped. He did not turn around. "You are free, Arthur," Adrian said. "You have your life. You have your empty house. But if I see your face in this city again I will finish what I started today." Adrian pulled Elara through the doorway. The sunlight was blinding. A line of black SUVs sat idling on the curb. Guards in suits stood by the doors. They did not look at the blood on Elara’s dress. They did not look at her tears. Adrian opened the door to the lead car. He shoved Elara inside. The leather seats were cool. The air conditioning was humming. It felt like a different world. It felt like a tomb. Adrian sat down beside her. He closed the door. The sound was final. The tinted windows turned the world gray. "Do not cry," Adrian said. "It is a waste of hydration." "You are a monster," Elara said. She huddled against the door. She tried to find the handle. It was locked. "I am a businessman," Adrian said. "I made an investment. I intend to see a return." "I am a human being," Elara snapped. "I am not a stock option." Adrian turned his head. He looked at her for a long time. He reached out and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. Elara flinched. She wanted to bite him. She wanted to scream until her lungs gave out. "In this city everyone is a product," Adrian said. "Your father sold you. Julian Rossi abandoned you. I am the only one who actually paid the asking price." The car began to move. Elara watched the chapel disappear through the back window. She watched her life vanish. "What do you want from me?" Elara asked. "Obedience," Adrian said. "I want you to forget the name Vance. I want you to forget the word no. You belong to me now, Elara. Every breath. Every thought. Every inch of your skin." Adrian pulled a tablet from the seat pocket. He began to check the stock market. He acted like she was not there. He acted like he had not just destroyed her soul. Elara looked at her hands. They were shaking. She looked at the blood on her skirt. She thought about Julian. She thought about her father. She thought about the man sitting next to her.