Sold To The Billionaire

My lips trembled. "E-Elena..." "Elena," he repeated, and my name in his deep voice sounded like a song. Like something precious that had been lost for a long time. "Elena, do you want to leave this place?" I looked at Victoria, at ten years of cruelty, of sleeping in the cold attic with rats, of eating leftovers from the trash while they ate steak downstairs, of being called maid, orphan, worthless. Then I looked at this stranger, this dangerous billionaire with storm-grey eyes and cold fingers who was offering to buy me like I was a slave, but who looked at me like I was a person for the first time in ten years. Tears filled my eyes, spilling over my cheeks, burning the slap mark. I didn't know if it was fear or hope. I didn't know if I was jumping from one cage to another, from one hell to another. But anything was better than this house. I nodded. I nodded with all my strength. And my nightmare... or my salvation... had just begun. Victoria's face turned red with rage, her perfect makeup cracking. "No! You cannot take her! She is ours! She is our maid! Father, tell him! Tell him he cannot do this!" "She is not a thing," Alexander said, his voice cutting through the air like a knife, like ice. He finally released my chin, but his eyes never left me, protecting me, claiming me. He pulled out his phone, dialed a number with one hand, his movements elegant, powerful. "James. Bring the car around. And bring the contract. The adoption release contract. And a checkbook. Now." Contract? Checkbook? Was he really going to buy me? Like in those dark romance books Victoria read and laughed at? Mrs. Williams tried to be calm, tried to be the perfect high society lady, but her hands were shaking, her pearls trembling around her neck. "Mr. Knight, let's be reasonable. Elena is eighteen now. If she wants to leave, she can leave. There is no need for money, no need for such drama in front of our guests-" "There is every need," he interrupted, his voice so cold everyone shivered. "Because for ten years, you made her work without pay. That is illegal. For ten years, you hit her. I saw the bruises on her arms when her sleeve slipped earlier. Old bruises. New bruises. Don't tell me you didn't. Don't lie to me. So yes, you will be compensated for your loss, and she will never have to see you again. That is my final offer." I gasped. He saw my bruises? I thought I hid them so well under my long sleeves. I thought no one ever noticed. A man in a black suit entered silently, like a shadow, carrying a leather briefcase that probably cost more than my entire life. He handed Alexander a document and a gold pen. Alexander placed it on the dining table, pushing aside the expensive wine glasses and the untouched cake, as if none of it mattered. "Sign it. You release all guardianship rights to Elena Williams. You release all claims. In return, I transfer two million dollars to your account. Today. Now. This second." Two million dollars! For me? I was worth two million dollars? I, who had been told I was worthless, who was not allowed to own even a second-hand dress? Victoria laughed, but her laugh was broken, hysterical. "Two million? For her? Alexander, you have lost your mind! She is worthless! She can't even read properly! She can't even speak English correctly! She is dirty, she is-" "Sign," Alexander said, not even looking at Victoria anymore, looking at Mr. Williams, who had been silent the whole time in the corner, drinking whiskey. Mr. Williams looked at me, then at the check. Greed won over everything. It always did in this family. He grabbed the pen with a shaking, greedy hand. "Victoria, be quiet. Sign it, Martha. It's good money. We can use it. The company needs it." Mrs. Williams hesitated, looked at me with fake tears, then signed. Victoria screamed, "Father! No! You cannot sell her! She is mine to-" But it was done. In thirty seconds, with two signatures, I was sold. Bought by the devil himself. For two million dollars. Alexander looked at me, his eyes dark. "Let's go, Elena." I couldn't move. My legs were shaking so hard I thought I would fall. Ten years of fear had made my body weak. He sighed, as if he understood everything without me saying a word. Then, without asking, without permission, he took off his expensive black blazer, the one that smelled like dark woods and power, and placed it around my shoulders. It was warm. So warm. It smelled like him. It swallowed me whole, covering my cheap, ugly maid uniform. "You are freezing," he whispered, so only I could hear. "And you are so thin." Then he did something that made every woman in the room gasp, that made Victoria drop her wine glass and shatter it. He bent down and picked me up. In his arms. Bridal style. Like I was a bride. Like I weighed nothing. Like I was precious. "Put me down!" I whispered, embarrassed, my face red as fire, my heart beating like crazy. No man had ever held me like this. No one had ever carried me. "No," he said simply, his voice final. And he carried me out of that house. Out of my prison of ten years. Past Victoria who was screaming, past Mrs. Williams who was pretending to cry, past all those rich women who stared with jealousy and shock. Outside, a black Rolls-Royce waited, longer and shinier than any car I had ever seen. The man in the black suit opened the door. Alexander placed me inside, gently, like I was glass, on leather seats softer than any bed I had ever slept on. The seats were warm. He got in beside me. The door closed. The car moved. Silently, like flying. I sat as far away from him as possible, clutching his blazer around me, staring out the window as the Williams mansion, my hell, my only home for ten years, disappeared behind us, getting smaller and smaller until it was gone. "Where... where are you taking me?" I finally found my voice, small and broken, like a mouse. "To my home," he said, not looking at me, looking at his phone, at stocks, at billions. "You will stay there. You will be safe there." "As... as your maid too?" I asked, tears coming again. Was I just changing from one master to another? Would I clean his floors too? He finally looked at me. Really looked at me. And his storm-grey eyes softened, just a fraction, just for me. "No. Not as my maid, Elena. Never as my maid. As my guest. As the girl I... as my guest. Until you decide what you want to do. Until you want to leave, if you ever want to leave." Guest? No one had ever called me a guest. I was always the maid. "Why?" I whispered, looking into his beautiful, cold, terrifying face. "Why did you pay two million for me? You don't even know me. I am nothing." He was silent for a long time. The city lights of New York flashed across his perfect face, making him look like a god, like a devil. "Because when I saw you," he said quietly, his voice suddenly not cold, but broken, "when I saw you had been hit, I saw my mother. My mother was like you once. A maid who was hit. Who was told she was nothing. Who worked for rich people who beat her. And no one saved her. She died because no one saved her." My heart stopped. His mother... "So I am saving you," he said, looking out the window so I wouldn't see his pain. "Whether you like it or not, Elena. You are mine now. I bought you. And I protect what is mine." The car stopped in front of a building that touched the sky, that touched the clouds. A skyscraper of glass and light. A penthouse. His penthouse. The most expensive penthouse in New York. He got out and opened my door, offering me his hand. His large, cold, beautiful hand. His cold fingers, waiting for mine. I looked at his hand. At the devil who bought me. At the billionaire who paid two million for a maid. At the man who might be my salvation or my new nightmare. And with a shaking heart, I placed my trembling hand in his.