Billionaire's Hidden Vows

chapter 1

THE DEBT

The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. Emilia Hart pressed her forehead lightly against the tall glass window of her father’s office, watching rivulets of water slide down in uneven paths, like tears that refused to dry. The city outside looked blurred and gray, a canvas of misery. With their lights warped by the storm, even the towers that had once stood tall and shining now seemed frail. The world appeared indestructible from twenty-seven stories above the streets, but Emilia was aware of this. The business her father had spent thirty years creating, Hart Industries, was in ruins. She also felt time passing more slowly with each raindrop hitting the window. The silence of the room weighed heavily on her back. The massive mahogany desk was covered in papers, and contracts and unpaid invoices spilled across it like the remains of a fight. Once arrogant, her father was now bent in his leather chair and battered. The strong shoulders she had admired as a youngster slumped under invisible weight. His silver hair was not combed, and his tie was loose. He looked less like the commanding CEO of Hart Industries and more like a man waiting to be executed. Emilia. His voice pierced the quiet. She turned around. He didn't glance at her. He stared at the document in his hands as though it held the key to his rescue and his doom. Father, is that correct? He swallowed deeply. The noise was too loud in the silent chamber. They called again. The borrowers. They have finished waiting. His fingers trembling, he set the paper down on the desk. If nothing is done within the next week, Hart Industries - everything your mother and I built will collapse. Her chest constricted as anger and sadness fought inside her. There must be another way, she remarked sternly. A loan. A mix of both. For investors, there is nothing. The tone of his voice interrupted her. It wasn't sharp like a knife, but it was heavy, weighted with desperation. He pushed the folder across the desk toward her. Her breath stopped as she gazed down. On cream-colored paper, the words Marriage Agreement were bolded in black. Her hands were shaking as she flipped through it. With pending signatures and lives on the brink of being bound, every page radiated legality. But the deal didn't scare her. It was the name, overprinted in dark, bold letters. Adrian Cross. The name alone had thunderous power. A beat skipped through her heart. She had seen that name all too often - on magazine covers, on stock market screens, and in whispered tones at charity galas. Adrian Cross was more than just a guy. He became a myth because of his wealth, violence, and influence. Businesses have been fully absorbed by his empire, Cross International. His rivals were destroyed or disappeared. In the business world, he was referred to as Billionaire Butcher because he never left survivors when he struck. And now his name appears on her marriage contract. Emilia dropped the folder as though it had burned her fingertips. No. No, not at all. Her father flinched. Emilia - you think I don't know who he is? She demanded, her voice trembling with anger. He's a monster. He is charged with destroying lives for the sake of sport. Do you want me to marry him as well? Her father's shoulders slumped further and his face crumpled with shame. You're not getting it. Adrian is the only man strong enough to assist us. In order to cover the losses, he suggested paying off the debts. His eyes glowed with helplessness. But only if you marry him. Her laugh was harsh, piercing, and hollow. Is my worth lessened by being sacrificed to New York's most vicious man? He closed his eyes. For a brief moment, she saw the father who read goodnight stories to her when she was scared of storms, carried her on his shoulders, and taught her how to ride a bike. That man looked broken and defeated. He whispered, I'm sorry, my kid. But it's not just about us. For hundreds of households, Hart Industries is indispensable. If the company fails, the employees, their children, and their futures all suffer. This transcends pride. More than ease. Emilia's chest heaved with uneven breaths. She wanted to yell, smash the pane of glass, and dash out into the storm. But his words bound her like chains. She knew he wasn't lying. She had watched the secretaries, security guards, and factory workers who worked for her father's business and depended on it for a living. If Hart Industries went out of business, their lives would also fall apart. What about Adrian Cross? Her stomach was churning. She had seen him at a gala a few years before. The person was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair pulled back and eyes that looked around the room like a predator looking for its next meal. Even though he had only been looking at her for a second, she felt his gaze like claws on her skin. It wasn't awe. It was ownership. And he had made plans for this now. Emilia looked back at the contract. Her signature line was like a trap, clean and waiting for her name to mark the end of her life. What if I decide not to sign? Her voice was low and almost whispery. The silence of her father was enough. She regarded him sharply. His lips parted and his voice was harsh. We lose everything. I lose everything. And Adrian is not a target for taunts. If you deny him... His voice broke and his eyes were full of worry. He'll do us harm. Not merely the company. We. The rain outside pelted the glass more forcefully, as though to mock her. Her eyesight blurred. No matter which way she looked, there was no freedom. Awaiting her was destruction and ruin if she refused. If she agreed, she would be willingly entering the cage of a man who is known for devouring those who oppose him. Adrian Cross was not your average billionaire; when he held something in his hands, he was a hurricane in a suit. Her father's whisper, Emilia, please. For me. For us. Put your signature on it, broke the oppressive silence. She ran her fingertips over the pen, feeling the pressure of generations, and her lungs filled with the smell of leather and ink. As she was about to give up, she could just make out the image of Adrian's icy smile. But rebellion ignited in her heart. It was a whisper, and it got louder every second. Not just yet. If Adrian Cross thought Emilia Hart was just another pawn, he would soon discover she was not suited for cages. And she would prefer to perish in the storm outside than bow down to the man who is lurking in the shadows.