Bound to the Billionaire's Contract

The noise inside the industrial kitchen of Grand Horizon Catering in Chicago was deafening. Plates clattered, chefs shouted orders over the roar of giant gas burners, and the intense heat made the air thick and hard to breathe. Zendaya wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. Her hands moved expertly as she arranged silver trays of spicy glazed appetizers. Adjusting her plain black apron, she checked her phone on the stainless steel counter and let out a soft sigh. The screen displayed a low balance notification from her bank, right beneath an urgent text from her grandmother’s nurse: Miss Zendaya, the clinic needs the remaining payment for Grandma’s heart medication before Friday, or they will halt the treatment. Zendaya’s throat tightened, a sudden lump of anxiety rising in her chest. Twenty years ago, when Zendaya was just four years old, her mother had gathered the courage to flee from her toxic, penniless husband, escaping into the night with Zendaya while leaving her twin sister behind. Ten years later, desperate and dying from a terminal illness, her mother swallowed her pride and brought teenage Zendaya back to Richard Vance, her father, at his sprawling estate, begging for medical help. Instead, her newly wealthy father stood on his porch in a tailored Italian suit, ordering his security guards to throw them out into the pouring rain while growling that he only had one daughter—Sonia, the twin he kept to raise as a pampered heiress. When her mother passed away shortly after, Zendaya took on the full burden of caring for her sick grandmother. She worked multiple exhausting catering jobs just to send money back home, while her father lived in absolute luxury with her twin sister. Suddenly, her phone vibrated violently against the stainless steel counter. She glanced down, expecting her manager. Instead, a string of unknown digits flashed across the display. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the glass. Something about the frantic, relentless ringing made her chest drop. Stepping out the kitchen’s back door into the narrow alleyway, she pressed the green button. "Hello?" "Zendaya? Is that—" "Yes," Zendaya cut in, her tone suspicious. "Who is this?" "Zendaya! Thank God you picked up!" Richard Vance’s voice exploded through the speaker—sharp, breathless, and laced with absolute panic. Gone was his usual arrogant, booming tone. He sounded like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. "It's your father. I had my private investigator track down your number two hours ago." Now, listening to his voice, Zendaya's tone turned to ice. "Richard? What do you want? You made it very clear ten years ago in the rain that you don't have a second daughter." "Listen to me!" her father stammered, completely ignoring her bitter words. Background noise on his end sounded like pure chaos—doors slamming, women crying. "It's Sonia! She’s gone! The foolish girl ran away!" Zendaya froze, her grip tightening on the cool metal of the phone. "What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?" "She packed her bags in the middle of the night and fled the country with that useless musician boyfriend!" her father spat, his voice trembling with sheer terror. "She left a note saying she refuses to marry Tariq Cole!" Zendaya frowned in total confusion. "Who is Tariq Cole?" "He is the billionaire CEO of Cole Logistics!" her father shrieked into the receiver. "The most ruthless, dangerous power broker in the city, Zendaya! He invested billions into my shipping firm, but the whole deal is backed by this marriage contract! He took a ragged breath before continuing. "If he finds out Sonia humiliated him three days before the wedding, he will destroy me! He will seize my assets, bankrupt my company, and put me in prison!" "Then you shouldn't have forced her into an arranged marriage," Zendaya replied coldly, preparing to hang up. "I have to get back to work." "Wait! Don't hang up!" her father screamed, his tone suddenly turning from anger to sickening, desperate begging. "Zendaya, please! I am begging you! You are identical twins—you have her exact face! Nobody in high society even knows you exist!" Zendaya’s blood ran completely cold. The alleyway around her seemed to spin. "What... what are you saying?" she whispered. "I am sending a private jet over to bring you to California right now!" her father stammered frantically. "Stand in for her. Just for two weeks until my men track Sonia down in London and bring her back!" He paused, lowering his voice to deliver the final hook. "I will pay off your grandmother’s entire medical debt! seven hundred and fifty dollars in your account tonight, Zendaya! Just pretend to be Sonia!" ‎