The Devil’s Bride

Chapter 3: Sold

Moore’s POV

My heart hammered so loudly I was sure both men could hear it.

I stood in the middle of the most expensive office I had ever seen, still wearing my cheap coat that smelled like hospital antiseptic and fear. The marble floor beneath my worn ballet flats felt colder than anything in our apartment. Everything here screamed money—the massive windows, the paintings that probably cost more than my entire life, and the rich scent of cologne and leather that made my cheap lavender soap feel like an insult.

Mr. Vance looked at me with something almost like kindness. But his son… Ethan Vance stared at me like I was something he wanted to crush under his expensive shoe.

I could still feel his breath on my skin from when he had leaned in earlier. His words kept repeating in my head: You become my property… You lie beneath me when I demand it.

I swallowed hard, fighting the nausea rising in my throat.

“Ten million dollars,” I whispered,my voice barely audible. “Annastasia is safe… I can survive this.”

Ethan’s lips curved into that cold, terrifying smirk. He looked completely satisfied, like a man who had already won a prize.

Mr. Vance slid some papers across the massive mahogany desk toward me. “This is a preliminary agreement, Moore. It guarantees the full ten million will be transferred within twenty-four hours. The first fifty thousand has already cleared the hospital deposit. Your stepmother’s surgery is being scheduled as we speak. The rest will follow once the marriage is official.”

My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the pen. I looked down at the documents. My name. Ethan’s name. A marriage contract. Temporary. No love. No rights. Just possession.

I thought about Annastasia coughing up blood in that waiting room. I pictured Tim’s scared face and Talia clutching her teddy bear. I thought of the mountain of bills that had been slowly killing us for years.

I signed my name.

The sound of the pen scratching against the paper felt incredibly loud in the quiet room. When I finished, I felt like I had just sold my soul.

Ethan made a low, mocking sound from the shadows. “Smart girl.”

I didn't look at him. I couldn't. If I looked at him now, I might start crying, and I refused to give him that satisfaction.

Mr. Vance nodded. “You’ll stay in a hotel tonight. Tomorrow we’ll handle the wedding. Simple, private, and quick. After that, you move into Ethan’s residence. My assistant, Arthur , will provide you with everything you need—clothes, necessities, and a phone with my direct number in case of emergencies.”

I finally found my voice, small and cracked. “Can I… can I call my family first? They’re still at the hospital. They don’t know where I am.”

Mr. Vance waved his hand dismissively. “Of course. Take a moment.”

I stepped away from the desk, moving toward the huge windows even though I was terrified of heights. My phone felt cheap and heavy in my hand as I dialed the hospital.

The nurse answered quickly. “Miss Moore? Your mother has been moved to a private ward. The specialist is already reviewing her case. The surgery is confirmed for tomorrow morning.”

Tears burned my eyes. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Please tell her… tell her I love her and I’m doing everything I can.”

I ended the call and just stood there, breathing. Ten million dollars for surgery. Safety. Food on the table. School fees paid. No more choosing between rent and medicine. All it cost was me.

I felt his presence before I heard him. Ethan moved up behind me, close enough that he swallowed the air around us. His voice was low, meant only for my ears.

“Regretting your choice already, little ballerina?”

I closed my eyes, keeping my posture straight. “No.”

“Liar.” His fingers brushed my ponytail, his grip tight and completely ungentle. “You’re going to look so pathetic standing next to me at the altar tomorrow. But you’ll smile anyway. You’ll say your vows like you mean them. And every night, you’ll open those dancer’s legs for me without complaint.”

My stomach twisted with shame and fear.

Ten million dollars,I repeated silently in my head like a prayer. Tim and Talia will be okay. I can survive this. I have to.

I turned around slowly and forced myself to meet his eyes. They were cold, beautiful, and completely cruel.

“I understand the terms,” I said quietly, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. “I signed. I won’t back out.”

Ethan studied me for a long, torturous moment. His gaze moved down my body slowly, like a predator calculating exactly how to break its prey. As a dancer, my body was my instrument—something I had spent my entire life strictly controlling and protecting. Now, with a few strokes of a pen, I had handed total ownership of it to a monster.

When his eyes returned to mine, they held a dark, terrifying satisfaction. “Good girl.”

Those two words sent a shiver down my spine that I hated myself for feeling.

Mr. Vance gestured to a quiet, sharply dressed young man waiting by the doors. “This is Connor, he’ll be your driver. He will take you to the hotel tonight and ensure you have everything you’re safe for tomorrow morning.”

As I walked toward the private elevator, I could feel Ethan’s suffocating stare burning into my back. I stepped inside, and the doors glided shut, cutting off his view.

In the quiet of the elevator, Connor looked over at me. He didn't look at me with the disgust Ethan had, or the cold calculation of Mr. Vance. There was a faint, quiet flicker of sympathy in his eyes as he pulled a clean handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offered it to me.

"It's a long drive to the hotel, Miss Moore," he said softly. "You can rest."

I took the cloth, nodding silently. “Thank you, Mr Cannor.”

“Just Cannor is fine “he replied i just nodded

An hour later, I was sitting on the edge of a massive king-sized bed in a luxury hotel suite that was larger than my entire apartment. The sheets were pure Egyptian cotton, the air was perfectly climate-controlled, and a wardrobe of pristine clothes waited for me.

I had just sold myself to the devil. And the worst part? A tiny, broken part of me was relieved.