The Billionaire's Hidden Son

Chapter 3

Rose's POV

I didn't return his smirk. Instead, I squared my shoulders, even though my legs felt like jelly. I wouldn't let him win. Not now, not after everything I’d already endured.

​"Then destroy me, then," I challenged, my voice a barely audible whisper, yet sharp as a blade. "Because after tonight, I have nothing left to lose."

​Victor went still. He pulled back, breaking the contact between our foreheads, and strolled leisurely toward his desk. He picked up an expensive fountain pen, rolling it between his fingers with a casual air, as if this conversation were nothing more than idle small talk about the weather.

​"So dramatic," he murmured. He sat back down, crossing his legs with an arrogant grace. "You think I’d drag you into my bed tonight because I want you? You overestimate yourself, Rose."

​He glanced at the pile of paper I had shredded earlier, then shifted his gaze back to me with a cold, piercing emptiness.

​"I want control. You are the only mistake in my life that I haven’t corrected in the last seven years. You left without my permission, disappearing just when I wasn't finished punishing you for the humiliation you caused at the altar."

​"I didn't humiliate anyone," I snapped back. "I simply took the place of someone who didn't deserve you."

​Victor let out a short laugh. Sharper this time, and colder. "Oh, you know exactly what you did. You stole attention that wasn't meant for you, and then you vanished with such disgusting pride."

​He stood up again, this time walking to the door to lock it with a final, echoing click. The sound reverberated through the room, like the door of a prison cell sliding shut. He walked back toward me, but this time he didn't approach with intimacy. He stopped at a distance that made me feel utterly isolated.

​"You said you wouldn't serve, didn't you?" Victor took a key from his pocket and set it on the desk. "Fine. Then you aren't leaving this room until you agree to sign that contract. And don't expect anyone to come looking for you. Adrian has already been paid handsomely to ensure no one disturbs me tonight."

​I caught my breath. "You... you’re kidnapping me?"

​"I’m simply negotiating a deal," he replied lightly. He closed the distance between us, his hand gripping my wrist. Firm enough to ensure I couldn't run, but not enough to cause physical harm. He pulled me closer until I was forced to inhale his sickening cologne, a scent of pure dominance and arrogance.

​"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk with his chin, as if ordering a dog. "We’re going to spend the night discussing exactly how you’ll spend the rest of your life as mine. If you refuse, I have plenty of ways to ensure you won't be returning home for a very, very long time."

​He held my gaze, challenging me, waiting for me to argue, waiting for me to beg. I stared back, refusing to look away, even as my mind raced, calculating how much time I had before someone realized I hadn't come home.

​"You’re a sick man, Victor," I said coldly, forcing composure over the storm of panic rising within me.

​Victor flashed a wide grin, an expression that made his handsome face look truly terrifying.

​"Maybe," he answered casually. "But I’m the man holding the key to that exit. And you’re the one desperate to open it."

​He released my wrist with a rough shove and sat back in his chair, waiting for me to make my move. I stood there, in the center of the stifling room, realizing that every passing second was part of the cruel game he had orchestrated.

​I stood frozen in the middle of the room, which felt as though it were shrinking by the second. Victor seemed to savor my entrapment; he leaned back into his leather chair, watching me with a gaze that suggested time was entirely his to command.

​"Why so quiet?" he asked, his voice smooth yet sharp as a razor. "You usually have plenty of cynical answers to satisfy your own ego."

​I didn't answer. I only stared at the key lying on the desk. That key was my only way out, but to reach it, I would have to strip away the last of my pride.

​Suddenly, a long, rhythmic vibration from my uniform pocket shattered the silence. The sound was deafening, bouncing off the soundproof walls.

​My phone.

​I knew who was calling. The hospital. There was only one reason they would call this late—Noel.

​My heart felt as if it had stopped. Cold sweat beaded at my temples. I had to answer. Something could have happened. Maybe his asthma had flared up again. Maybe...

​But I couldn't. Not in front of him.

​Victor had already risen. He watched my every move with predatory interest. "A call?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. "Why don't you answer it? Perhaps it's an important call from someone who desperately needs you."

​He started to move closer, his calm footsteps sounding like the ticking of a clock counting down the last of my time.

​"None of your business," I hissed, struggling to mask the panic fraying my voice. I took a step back, trying to distance myself, but the phone kept vibrating in my pocket, pleading to be answered.

​Victor stopped right before me. He could see my hand trembling violently as I tried to press against my pocket to dampen the sound. A sign of weakness he had been hunting for all night.

​"You look terrified, Rose," he said, his voice now dangerously close, suffocating. He reached out. Not to touch me, but his long index finger deliberately pressed against the area of my pocket where the phone was vibrating. He pushed slowly, making the vibration feel agonizing against my thigh. "Something bad happen? Or perhaps... someone is waiting for you to come home?"

​"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice breaking.

​Victor chuckled. A sound devoid of sympathy, fueled only by the satisfaction of finally finding the crack in my armor. He didn't move his finger; instead, he pressed harder, forcing his presence to be felt even without touching my skin.

​"Answer it," Victor challenged with a tone that made my blood boil. "Answer that phone in front of me. I want to hear for myself just how much trouble you're in. Or... are you afraid that I'll hear something that leaves you with no choice but to sign that contract?"

​I glared at him with pure hatred. The phone stopped, then began to vibrate again. The second call.

​I knew that if I answered, Victor would know everything. He would use that information to squeeze, to break, and to own me completely. But if I ignored it... Noel was alone there.

​"Your hands are shaking, Rose," he whispered, so close to my ear that his breath made my skin crawl. "Just one touch to that pocket, and I'll know everything. So, will you keep being the proud woman who doesn't need my help, or will you let me save you from whatever's haunting that phone?"

​He paused, letting the vibration be the only sound in the room, tearing at my fraying nerves. He was waiting for me to break, and the phone felt like the final, fading heartbeat of my son.

​"Okay..." I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Do you have a copy of the document?"

​Maybe I had lost my mind. No. This was for Noel.

​Victor smirked, his eyes alight with triumph. "Well?"

​I straightened my posture. "I agree. I’ll be your personal assistant." I looked him straight in the eye. "But now... get me out of here."