Sign Here, Mrs. Hart

Chapter 5

Harper’s POV

The moment that bastard stepped aside, I knew exactly what he was: a certified, grade-A piece of trash.

He stood there, hands shoved casually in his pockets, watching me like I was some rerun on TV instead of a person about to have her fingers broken.

“What are you doing, Xavier?!” I shrieked, his first name slipping out as I backed up until my spine hit the cold plaster wall.

The leader of the loan sharks—the heavyset man who’d bruised my ribs three days earlier—let out a low, ugly laugh.

“Well, look at this. Seems like your boyfriend doesn’t give a damn about you, Harper.” He stepped closer, the smell of cigarettes and sweat rolling off him so thick it turned my stomach. I couldn’t tell anymore what was making me sick—the smell, or the fact that he’d just called Mr. Hart my boyfriend.

“Time’s up, girl. Where’s our money?”

“I—I need more time,” I stammered, hating how badly my voice shook. “Eric took everything. I swear, I’m trying to find a way....”

“We don’t care about your excuses.” He nodded to the two men behind him. “Grab her.”

They lunged. One seized my arm, wrenching it behind my back.

I screamed, kicking out wildly—my sneaker caught him under the chin, but it might as well have hit a wall. The other grabbed my hair, yanking my head back hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

“Let go of me, you psychos!” I yelled, looking to Mr. Hart, silently begging him to do something.

But what had I expected from an arrogant prick like him? He simply adjusted his watch, completely unmoved by the violence in front of him.

He turned to the leader, ignoring me entirely.

“How much does she owe you?” he asked, his calm voice somehow more infuriating than anything else in the room.

“Sixty thousand,” the leader said, squinting at Xavier as he registered, belatedly, that this man looked far too wealthy for a dump like this. “Who the hell are you?”

“The guy who can write you a check that won’t bounce,” Xavier said smoothly, pulling a checkbook from his pocket. “But that depends entirely on her.”

He turned those cold blue eyes on me at last, closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps until his face was only inches from mine.

“The offer’s still on the table, Harper,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “Sign the contract, and I pay these men off right now. You walk out with all your fingers intact, and we start saving your father’s estate. Refuse, and I leave you to your business partners.”

“You absolute monster.” My voice cracked, and he stepped back, the heat that had crept into my face giving way to pure fury.

A tear slid down my cheek as the thug holding my hair tightened his grip. “You’re blackmailing me. You’re using them to trap me.”

“It’s called leverage,” Xavier said, without a trace of sympathy. “And right now, you have none. The clock’s ticking, Harper. What’s it going to be?”

The leader looked between us, a greedy smile spreading across his face. “Hey, buddy, we don’t have all day. Pay us, or we go straight to business.”

Xavier ignored him, pen in hand, eyes locked on me, utterly detached from the horror unfolding around us.

I hated him. God, I hated him.

Three years ago, he’d ruined my career for telling him his project was terrible—which it had been. Now he stood over me like some twisted savior, holding my fate in his hands while criminals pinned me down.

But staring at the thug’s face, seconds away from snapping my fingers, raw panic won out over pride.

I couldn’t die here. And I couldn’t let the bank take what was left of my father’s legacy.

“Fine!” The word tore out of me. “Fine, I’ll sign it! Just pay them!”

Xavier didn’t smile, but something like triumph flickered across his face. He scrawled across the check, tore it free, and held it out to the leader.

“Sixty thousand. Take it, and erase her name from your books for good.”

The leader snatched it, inspecting it closely before a greasy smile spread across his face. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Something shifted in Xavier’s expression, and everyone in the room felt it. “If I ever see you or your men near her again,” he said, low and menacing, “I will bury you so deep you’ll forget what daylight looks like.”

I wasn’t the only one who shivered. The leader shot him a sharp look and coughed, then jerked his head toward his men without another word.

They shoved me away. I hit the dirty carpet hard, gasping, clutching my bruised arms. Then they filed out, slamming the broken door behind them.

The silence that followed was suffocating. I stayed on the floor, chest heaving, listening to my own ragged breath. I felt small, broken, and completely trapped.

“Get up,” Xavier said, without a shred of empathy. “We don’t have time for a pity party. We need to sign the documents and get you out of this dump.”

I pushed myself up, every muscle aching, and glared at him with pure venom. Grabbing the crumpled contract from the bed, I smoothed it out with shaking hands.

“You are the most disgusting, heartless excuse for a human being I have ever met,” I spat, snatching the pen from his fingers.

“Think whatever you want,” he said coldly, watching me sign my name on the dotted line. “As of right now, you belong to the Hart family for the next twelve months.”

The contract felt like poison in my hands. Every stroke of my signature carved away another piece of my freedom, binding me to the man I despised more than anyone else alive. How much further could my life fall?

Xavier took the papers without a flicker of satisfaction or guilt, slipping them neatly into his folder.

“Good,” he said. “Now we can start fixing the mess your father left behind.”

My jaw clenched. “This isn’t over.”

Something unreadable crossed his eyes. “No, Harper.” His voice dropped low. “It’s just starting.”

Then he turned and walked out.