BY CONTRACT: His to own

Chapter7

For a moment, Ava thought she was dreaming.

The bed beneath her was too soft. The scent in the air of woodsy, expensive cologne mixed with something warm was too unfamiliar. Her lashes fluttered again, and when her vision cleared, she froze.

He was there.

Damien.

Sitting in a chair across the room, elbows resting on his knees, his cold, unreadable gaze fixed entirely on her.

Her chest tightened, and she breathed, hitching in her throat. Her body tensed beneath the blanket, his jacket still draped over her.

“What the hell?” Her voice cracked. She sat up abruptly, snatching the blanket around her as if it were armor. “What am I doing here?”

Damien didn’t flinch. “You fell asleep.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” she snapped, voice sharp with confusion and embarrassment. “Why am I in a room? Where the hell is this?”

“My bar,” he said simply. “The private suite upstairs.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed. “You brought me here?”

He nodded once.

Her heart pounded. “You had no right…!”

“I wasn’t going to leave you freezing on a couch for the night,” he said coolly. “Relax. I didn’t touch you.”

Her jaw tightened. “You expect me to believe that?”

He leaned back in his seat, his voice unbothered, low. “I don't have to do anything s****l to you in your sleep, Ava.” He met her gaze. “I told you that before.”

Her face flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell. Her fingers gripped the edge of the blanket harder.

“You’re disgusting,” she muttered.

Damien didn’t flinch. He leaned back against the couch, one leg crossed casually over the other, eyes cold and unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sharp but calm. “I thought you rejected my offer.”

Ava let out a soft cough, her throat still dry from the cold air and restless sleep. “I... I think I want to reconsider.”

Damien raised an eyebrow, then scoffed. “You think? You're not ready for the offer if you're still thinking.”

She rolled her eyes at his arrogance, but before she could speak again, he cut her off.

“Attitude,” he said, his voice dipping with mock amusement. “You’re supposed to be on your knees begging me for the contract, but instead, you’re giving me attitude. I don’t think you want to save your sister.”

Ava snapped.

Her voice broke, thick with emotion as she stood from the bed, fists clenched by her sides. “Do you know how stranded I am? Just because you gave me an option doesn’t mean I shouldn’t think about my own life! You act like you’re doing me a favor, but you don’t know what I’m going through! You don’t even know me! So stop being an asshole and thinking the world revolves around you!”

Damien stood slowly, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. He took a step closer, and his voice dropped to a low growl.

“Well, your world does revolve around me now,” he said. “Because I’m the only one who can help you.”

Ava scoffed and shook her head. “You're ruthless. You're f*****g evil.”

He smirked. “I know. You don’t have to say it, mama.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ava snapped.

A knock interrupted the thick tension in the room.

“Come in,” Damien called, not taking his eyes off her.

The bar attendant stepped in, holding a plastic bag. “The food’s here.”

He walked over, set the bag on the table near the couch, then glanced between the two of them before excusing himself quickly.

“First of all,” Damien said, “eat before we talk about anything.”

“I’m not hungry,” Ava muttered, turning away.

“Then fuckin’ leave,” Damien barked. “If you're not gonna eat, then we don't have anything to talk about. Just walk away.”

Ava’s jaw tensed. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides before she stomped toward the table, yanking the food out of the bag with rough hands. She started eating aggressively, chewing hard like the food had wronged her personally.

Damien leaned back again, watching her silently.

“Slow down,” he said after a few seconds. “You don’t want to end up in the hospital. How will you take care of your sister if you're the one sick next?”

Ava paused mid-bite. Her hand trembled slightly as she lowered the fork and looked up at him with a deadly, narrowed stare, sharp enough to cut glass.

Damien didn’t blink.

And in the silence that followed, the tension hung heavy in the room.

After Ava finished eating, she wiped her mouth with the napkin, her hands slower now, calmer, or maybe just exhausted. She pushed the empty plate away and leaned back on the couch, her eyes dull but determined.

“Give me the contract,” she said quietly.

Damien didn’t move right away. He studied her like he was trying to read something deeper than her expression, something in her soul. Then, slowly, he stood and walked over to the drawer beside the TV stand. He pulled out a thick brown envelope and returned to her, holding it out.

Ava took it with both hands, her fingers trembling slightly. She opened it and pulled out the papers, flipping through the first few pages until her eyes landed on the words.

“I will give you $50,000 and an expensive life, anything you want.

But you have to be my girlfriend.

My possession.

I have the right to do anything to you.

And you must not speak of this contract to anyone.

You cannot leave, even if you want to.

This is for a lifetime.”

Ava’s heart pounded in her chest. Her throat felt dry again. She lifted her eyes from the page, her gaze meeting his. There was a storm in her chest: fear, rage, helplessness.

“You’re cruel,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Do you even have a heart?”

Damien’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I do have a heart. But it doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to someone.”

There was something strange in his voice, something distant, something broken. But before Ava could question it, he stepped closer.

“Are you going to sign?”

Ava looked down at the contract again, the words burning into her eyes like they were carved into her skin.

She had no options. No savings. No one to help her. Her sister’s life depended on this, on him.

With pain in her eyes, she reached for the pen Damien had laid gently on the table beside her. She hesitated for a moment, just for a breath, and then she signed her name.

The second the pen left the paper, Damien took the document from her hands and placed it back into the envelope.

He stood tall, towering over her, and his voice dropped low, possessive, final.

“You’re mine now, Ava.”

She looked him in the eyes, her eyes burning with fury, but she couldn't say anything. Her sister’s life depends on him.