Billionaire's Hidden Vows

chapter 2

THE ULTIMATUM

The next night, with the pristine silverware shining in the chandelier light, Emilia sat at the head of the long dinner table. She was no longer hungry, but the air was heavy with the scent of wine, garlic, and grilled lamb. She couldn't take her eyes off the damned contract on her father's desk, and her stomach was in knots. He appeared weaker and older with each tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Eat, Emilia, he murmured, his fork clattering gently on the china. You must use your strength. She pretended to smile at him. What does strength serve as? To enter a cage on foot? He winced as the doorbell rang before he could respond. Both of them became icy. As though her father had insisted on privacy tonight, the servants had been dismissed early. However, he had not indicated that he was expecting anyone. When the butler entered the room, Emilia's pulse accelerated. He spoke shakily and had a pale face. Sir, Mr. Hart... Mr. Adrian Cross is here. Since their altercation, her father had said nothing. The fork slipped from her father's hand and her dish clattered. Emilia gasped. She had dreaded and anticipated this moment, but nothing could have prepared her for the sudden shock that shook her. Adrian, cross. The individual himself. Her father scurried out of his chair and tugged at his jacket as though he needed to regain his dignity. Bring him in. the butler nodded quickly and disappeared. Silence grew like a balloon about to pop. Emilia forced her lungs to expand with every shallow breath. She told herself not to tremble or show fear. However, when the door opened and he stepped inside, all of her defenses crumbled. Adrian Cross filled the room without saying a word. In stark contrast to his bronze skin, he wore a well-fitting black suit with a white shirt underneath. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, and his dark hair was slicked back deliberately. But she was astounded by his steel-gray, piercing eyes. Icy and unforgiving. Eyes that, in a single glance, revealed her nude. He felt as though the storm that had raged outside yesterday had followed him inside. Her father hesitated, then reached out and murmured, Adrian. I appreciate your prompt arrival. Adrian hardly gave the gesture a glance. He turned back to Emilia, utterly ignoring the hand. She took a deep breath. Then she realized why he was feared by men twice his age. His eyes were not kind. Just math. Just give the command. His deep, smooth voice could have filled a room with silence as he said, "Miss Hart." We finally had a formal meeting. Her throat dried up, and she forced herself to look into his eyes despite her heart thumping in her ears. Cross, Mr. Adrian kept walking toward the other end of the table, each step purposeful, even though her father insisted she sit. His stifling presence caused Emilia's back to stiffen, but she wouldn't turn her head. He clasped his hands behind his back and said, "Mr. Hart, I don't waste time." or stamina. Like thunder, his voice reverberated throughout a valley. I'm here for a reason we both know. Her father nodded hastily, perspiration pooling at his temples. Yes, without a doubt. The agreement Adrian looked at him. Just a glimpse. Sharp. Final. No. Not the agreement. He looked at Emilia once more. The choice. Emilia felt nauseous. Under the tablecloth, she balled her fists. Adrian c****d his head, examining her as he would a weapon or a rare work of art. You have had time to think about it, he continued. I don't give out time very often, Miss Hart. I wanted to be giving, though. Generous? Before she could steady her voice, it broke. Do you refer to generosity as blackmail? Her dad let out a gasp. Emilia - However, Adrian just arched an eyebrow, his mouth curving into a grin of contempt and laughter. Dangerous? Not Miss Hart. We'll refer to it as bargaining. Anger hammered at her heart. Mr. Cross, you're not requesting my hand in marriage. You're asking for it. His eyes were gleaming. You're right. I never inquire. Not when I'm in the mood to do something. The air grew denser. From the other side of the table, Emilia could practically hear her father's heartbeat. Adrian's voice faded to a velvet growl as he leaned forward a little. I'm presenting salvation. Your family name, your legacy, and your father's business all live on. All in return for something you ought to be prepared to give anyhow. She dug into her palms with her fingernails. What happens if I say no? Adrian's eyes went from steel to ice. The room seemed to grow smaller and colder, and the air around him seemed to change. He didn't have to raise his voice. By dawn, Hart Industries is no more. Your dad is with it. The silence that ensued was deafening. Her father's face went white as he reclined in his chair. Emilia felt as though she was out of breath due to the burning sensation in her lungs. With a familiar ease, Adrian straightened and adjusted his cufflinks. Miss Hart, I'll give you twenty-four hours. He stared at her unblinkingly and intrusively. I would like a response by tomorrow evening. You become my wife if you sign. If you don't, your father's kingdom will collapse. As if the issue had already been resolved, he turned to leave. His profile, however, stood out sharply against the golden radiance of the chandelier as he stopped short of the entrance. Soft but deadly, his words floated back across the room. Emilia, think carefully. You may hate me for this. But I always get what I want, as you'll soon find out. Then he was gone. The door behind him clicked closed. The silence he left behind was more deafening than any storm. Shallow gasps rose and fell in Emilia's chest as she sat still. Her father's face was smothered by his hands. She didn't move. She couldn't. Adrian Cross had swept into her life like a cyclone. In twenty-four hours, she would either sign her soul away. Or see everything she had ever known destroyed.