The Marriage He Already Owned

The Contract

I woke up with a clear head. I didn't feel the burning heat today

It was gone, but I felt the shame, it made sure it stayed

I remembered everything...the way I had climbed him, the way I had rubbed against him like I had no pride left.

My face burning up red as a tomato

I sat up slowly, pulling the sheet higher, as if it could erase what my body had already done

But the fabric felt cold against my skin.

My wrists still ached faintly.

Anthonio stood by the window with his back to me. He was dressed already in a perfect black suit.

"I want to see their face on the news bulletin and have their bosses go bankrupt" Anthonio said unhurriedly.

Even though I was okay now I could not deny that the man was good looking. No wonder he was the man who always ranked number 1 in the Most handsome and eligible bachelor in Italy

Anthonio looked calm and in control. He didn't look like the mess I had been last night.

He had given me the pill, and he had stopped me when I lost control.

The man had not taken advantage.

Julian would have.

That thought scared me hell lot than the contract that was waiting on the desk.

I still could not trust this man.

But he had treated me better than the people who were supposed to love me.

And that realization sat in my chest like a stone.

He turned around.

His eyes moved over my face, slow and observing. He looked like he was measuring how much damage was left.

"You're awake."

I gripped the sheet tighter.

"You... didn't touch me." I was ashamed

"I already told you." His voice was cold and even. "I don't take what isn't offered with a clear mind."

"Why does that matter to you?"

He walked toward the bed without hurry.

Each step felt deliberate. The kind of walk that made the room feel smaller.

"Because I don't need to take anything," he said.

"Everything you have is already mine."

He picked up the black folder and placed it in front of me.The sound of it hitting the bed was soft.

Final.

"This is the contract."

I dreaded this. My hands shook as I opened it. The words were simple and brutal.

The Sterling family had used me as collateral.

If they failed to repay what they owed the Morettis, this meant that I belonged to Anthonio. And it was signed by no one else than my own father months ago.

Several months ago.

While I was still with him at family dinners. While I was still waiting for Julian's ring.

"Your father sold you," Anthonio said. He said it with no emotion. Pure business.

"Not because he had no other choice. Because it was the easiest option."

I stared at the signature. My father's handwriting.

Neat.

I was certain. At that moment my phone rang.

Father.

I answered with shaking fingers.

"Is it true?" My voice broke. "Did you sell me?"

Silence.

Then his voice came, flat and tired.

"Yes. We needed the money to keep the companies alive. And honestly, Eleonora... I was tired of you. Tired of the problems. Tired of looking at you."

The words landed one after another.

Each one heavier than the last.

I started crying. Quiet at first.Then harder.

"Say you're sorry," I whispered. "Just once."

He did not answer.

He hung up.

The line went dead.

I sat there with the phone still pressed to my ear, as if he might speak again.

He didn't.

Anthonio watched me the entire time. He did not offer comfort.

He did not look away.

He simply closed the folder.

"You belong to this family now. The papers are final."

The word belong sat heavy between us.

I hated how final it sounded.

He left the room shortly after.

The door shut with a soft click.

I was still sitting on the bed when it opened again. An older woman walked in.

Tall. Elegant. With eyes that looked exactly like Anthonio's, except colder. This was Diavolo's mother.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and stared down at me like I was something unpleasant she had stepped on.

I have learned to recognize this look all my life.

"So this is the pathetic little wretch who dragged her family's mess into my house."

Her voice was sharp enough to cut.

"Look at you. Weak. Crying. Already creating scandal and paparazzi at my son's door."

She stepped closer.

The air in the room seemed to shrink. Her perfume was expensive and cold.

"I don't know what game the Sterlings are playing, but understand this clearly. You are not a guest here. You are not a wife. You are a transaction. And transactions can be cancelled."

I forced myself to meet her eyes.

My voice came out thinner than I wanted.

"I didn't ask to be here."

A cold smile touched her mouth "No, you are too worthless . And yet here you are... dirtying the floor."

She let her gaze move over me one more time.

From my tangled hair to the sheet I still clutched like a shield.

Then she turned and left without another word.

The door clicked shut with finality.

The silence she left behind felt heavier than before.

Later that afternoon, Anthonio's driver took me to the Sterling mansion to collect some of my things.

I sat in the back seat with my hands tightly folded in my lap.

The city moved past the window in a blur.

I felt like I was being delivered from one cage to another.

The moment the black car stopped, Isabella and her mother stepped outside.

They saw the car, they saw the driver.

Isabella's smile turned vicious.

"Oh big sister," she said loudly, making sure the staff could hear. "You did not get this by opening your legs for the right man right? Some people might say start saying One night with Diavolo and she already gets a private driver.

Her mother laughed softly.

People turned their heads.

A couple of the staff pretended not to listen.

I kept my face blank and walked past them.

Every step felt watched.I gave them nothing.

Not a glance, not a word.

Isabella's voice followed me anyway.

"Nothing to say? You used to have so much pride."

I kept walking.

When I returned to the Moretti estate, the house felt even colder than before.

The high ceilings.

The marble floors.

The quiet that seemed to watch me.

I walked slowly down the long hallway, my father's words still echoing in my head.

I was tired of you.

The man who gave me life had sold me like property.

And sounded relieved while doing it.

My eyes burned again.

I turned a corner and stopped dead.

There.

On the wall.

A large painting.

A little girl standing at a grave.

Black dress.

Small hand holding an old man's fingers.

Her face turned slightly to the side.

It was me.

Seven years old.

The exact moment after my mother's funeral.

Someone had painted it years ago.

With perfect, painful detail.

Every fold of the black dress.

Every shadow under my young eyes.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Anthonio had this hanging in his house.It felt like Anthonio had known my face. My pain. My past.

Way back and it looked like it wasn't just last night.

Long before the contract.

Long before I ever stepped into his world. As I stared at the little girl in the painting. My hand rose without permission and hovered near the frame.I did not touch it, i was afraid to. It looked like a painting that had been painted a long time ago

And for the first time I now understood that I had not been brought into a stranger's home.

I had been brought into a place that already knew me. The silence in the hallway felt different now.

Heavier.

Like the house itself had been waiting.