Contracted to the Ruthless CEO

The $2 Million Transfer

Aisha watched the holographic contract vanish with a faint, final hiss. Her signature, Aisha Alabi, was now legally bound to Elias Thorne. She felt a knot of cold dread and a surge of overwhelming relief.

Before the silence in the penthouse could become unbearable, Elias’s personal assistant, Mr. Vance, stepped forward. He didn't look at her, only at Elias.

"The transfer is complete, sir. $2,000,000 sent to the designated St. Jude's account. Proof of receipt pending hospital confirmation."

Elias merely nodded, his gaze still fixed on Aisha, assessing her with unnerving thoroughness. "Good. You are officially Mrs. Thorne. Effective immediately." He motioned toward a discreet, floor-to-ceiling panel that slid open to reveal a private elevator. "Your mother's life is secured, Ms. Alabi. Now, you must fulfill your end of the bargain."

Tears pricked Aisha's eyes, not of sadness, but of pure, desperate gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Thorne. I... I will."

"You will address me as Elias in public, and as Mr. Thorne in private, which will be most of the time," he corrected, his voice sharp. "We leave now for the Thorne Estate. A car is waiting to move your belongings."

"My belongings?" Aisha frowned. She only had two suitcases.

"Everything you own will be relocated. It's necessary for the seamless integration of your new identity. You have five minutes to gather your things. Your life as you know it ends today, Aisha. Prepare yourself."

He didn't wait for a response, simply turning to his desk. Aisha walked toward the elevator feeling like a prisoner who had just traded a small, familiar cell for an enormous, gold-plated one.

Ten minutes later, the black Rolls-Royce whisked them across the city to the Thorne Estate. The estate was less of a home and more of a glass-and-steel fortress nestled on a private cliff overlooking the ocean. This was a different galaxy entirely from her modest apartment.

The butler, a severe-looking man named Giles, took her bags with an air of profound disappointment.

"Your rooms are this way, Mrs. Thorne," Giles said, leading her not to a shared master suite, but to a beautifully appointed, yet clearly secondary, wing.

Elias, who had been on a call the entire trip, finally hung up. "You will be introduced to the staff and my grandmother tomorrow," he instructed. "For now, rest. Your first official duty is this evening. A private, but mandatory, dinner with the board members."

He looked her up and down once more. "And Aisha... try to look like you belong. I dislike embarrassment."