HIS TO COMMAND

when the sky fell No one betrays my family and walks away unscathed. Not even yours." The words rang in her ears long after he left the courtroom. Emerald Davis had never imagined her life would fall apart this way. Her father, once a powerful business person with a sterling reputation, now stood on the brink of ruin. The deal that started it all happened ten years ago—between her father and his then-best friend, Thorne Ambrose. A business expansion plan. A quiet handshake over whiskey. No contracts. Just trust. But trust was a fragile thing. When Thorne fell ill with a rare neurological disorder, her father slowly withdrew from their partnership, pulling out his resources and leaving the company to collapse under the weight of medical bills and unkept promises. He thought Thorne wouldn’t live to tell the tale. He was wrong. Haunted by his wife’s failing health, her father had hoped the business deal would ease their burden maybe even fund treatment overseas. But things didn’t go according to plan. His wife’s condition deteriorated faster than expected, and before long, she passed away. The grief ate him alive. With a failing heart and mounting debt, he distanced himself from everything including his own conscience. He never imagined Thorne’s son would return for revenge. Roman Thorne. He had just returned from managing the company’s European division—rich, ruthless, and calculated. His name had become a whisper among business elites, a man who turned dust into diamonds and rivals into dust. The courtroom hadn't been about justice for him. It had been about power. Control. Humiliation. The court had ruled that Emerald’s father owed 3.8 billion naira in damages and mismanagement. But the charges weren’t just civil. Criminal evidence was mounting, and a prison sentence loomed like a storm cloud ready to burst. Unless... “Your father goes to prison,” Roman had told her coldly in his office, his back to her as he stared out over the skyline, “or you come work for me. As my maid. Your choice.” Emerald remembered the way her heart dropped in her chest. “You want me to be your... maid?” “No. I want you to suffer.” His voice was calm, emotionless, yet it carried the weight of a hammer striking glass. The humiliation of it still burned in her chest. She—Emerald Davis—was used to marble floors, private chefs, spa weekends, and carefree laughter. She’d never ironed a shirt in her life, never scrubbed a toilet, never been told what to do. She had always been a storm in heels, bold and unbending. And now? She was being offered like a pawn in a cruel game of revenge. His words echoed as she sat in her father’s study that evening, hugging herself on the leather armchair, the same place she once sprawled to binge-watch dramas and flip through magazines. The silence in the house was oppressive, thick with guilt and despair. “Papa, please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “There has to be another way.” He was quiet. Old, worn down. His gray hair hung limp, and the deep lines on his face had deepened in just the last week. He looked like a man who’d lost everything—his wife, his best friend, his business, and now, possibly, his daughter. “You’ll be married to him,” he finally said, eyes glassy with regret. “It’s already signed.” "No!" she gasped, jumping from her seat. "You can’t just give me away like some bargaining chip!" Tears threatened to spill, but she held them back. She wouldn't cry. Not yet. Not in front of him. “I had no choice,” he said quietly. If I didn’t, your mother wouldn’t survive the month. Roman has connections. The best doctors. Hospitals I can't even afford to think about." Her heart twisted at the mention of her mother. Though she was gone, the guilt still lingered like a wound that refused to heal. Her mother had always been calm in their stormy home—the only one who could tame her fire, who understood her. And now, even in death, she was the reason Emerald was being traded away. Emerald turned to the window. Outside, the world looked normal. Birds still chirped. The sky remained blue. But inside her, something cracked. A dark abyss yawned beneath her feet, and she had already begun to fall. Later that night, she lay in bed, sleepless. Her fingers clutched the edge of her duvet as memories from her childhood paraded through her mind—bike rides with her father, family dinners, her mother’s warm laughter. She used to believe her family was untouchable. She used to believe her father was a good man. Was he? Now she wasn't sure. And Roman—what kind of man was he to do this to her? To force a marriage not out of love, but through vengeance? Was this his twisted way of restoring balance? Or had he always been a cruel man shaped by betrayal? She remembered the look in his eyes the day they met in court—icy, unreadable. He hadn’t even looked at her as a person. To him, she was just collateral. Blood for blood. Pain for pain. Her phone buzzed beside her. A message from an unknown number. Tomorrow, 8AM. Thorne Estate. Bring nothing. No greeting. No signature. Just an order. She stared at it for a long time, heart pounding. So this was real. No running. No more pleading. Her life as she knew it was over. The next morning, she stood outside the gates of the Thorne Estate. The mansion loomed before her like a castle out of a dark fairy tale—beautiful, cold, and unwelcoming. The iron gates creaked open slowly as the guard waved her through. She wore plain clothes—simple jeans and a blouse—but still, she felt stripped. Exposed. Powerless. Roman stood at the door, arms folded. No smile. No greeting. “You’re on time,” he said, almost surprised. “Maybe you’ll survive this.” She met his gaze, forcing her chin up. “You got what you wanted. I’m here.” “No,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. “This is just the beginning.” The air inside was colder than outside. The marble floors echoed her footsteps as she walked in, not as a guest—but as a prisoner. And somewhere deep in her chest, rage quietly sparked. If Roman Thorne thought this was the end of her story, he had no idea who Emerald Davis really was. She may have fallen when the sky did. But she would rise. And she would make him regret ever thinking he could command her life.