The Billionaires Heart Bargain

Chapter 3

EMMA’S POV:

The air in the room felt thick with betrayal, choking my lungs like a dusty rag. A million dollars by myself? A child within a year? My father’s demands were a cruel joke, an impossible mountain thrust upon me at my most vulnerable. Two jobs barely kept me afloat, and the debt from my former manager’s treachery clung to me like a leech. My inheritance, once a lifeline, now felt like a twisted tether binding me to this suffocating legacy

But across from me, Callahan stood unfazed. His gaze, cool and unwavering, met mine like a beacon in the storm. “Whatever is required, we’ll do it,” he declared, his voice a granite promise. Tears pricked my eyes, burning against the sting of anger. The last time someone shielded me like this was when my mother lay dying. My emotions teetered, a dam threatening to burst, but in Callahan’s presence, I dared not surrender to the flood.

He sensed my turmoil, his hand finding mine, warm and solid against my clammy grip. As he drew me closer, his gaze turned glacial, fixing on Vera and Andrew. “Given my wife hasn’t agreed to these… stipulations, I can only assume no one else should have access to the late Matthew O’Neil’s assets.”

His words echoed through the room, a thunderclap splitting the suffocating silence. Vera and Andrew, caught off guard, stared back with a cocktail of fear and fury. They had no answer, their carefully constructed house of cards collapsing under the weight of his authority.

Callahan pressed his advantage, his voice turning steely. “Consider yourself warned, Mrs. Veronica. My lawyers will be in touch to discuss this blatant infringement on my wife’s rights.” He offered a curt nod, the image of a dark knight protecting his queen against vipers. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I have had quite enough of this toxic environment.”

The car ride was a blur, my mind reeling from the whirlwind of revelations. Could Callahan truly be willing to have a child with a stranger, just to secure my inheritance? What hidden motives lurked beneath his calm exterior? My father, despite our estrangement, wouldn’t have orchestrated such a cruel game. A single tear escaped, tracing a warm path down my cheek. Callahan reached out, a gentle touch that soothed the raw edges of my grief.

My sobs subsided, leaving behind a red-rimmed vulnerability. Hesitantly, I met his gaze. “So,” I rasped, my voice raw, “what now?”

His silence stretched, pregnant with unspoken thoughts. I knew, intuitively, that his help wasn’t altruistic. A bargain, an unspoken deal hung in the air. “You didn’t read the contract marriage documents, did you?” he finally said, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I suggest you familiarize yourself with them when we get home.”

“Contract? Home? What are you talking about?” My voice rose, barely a squeak above a whisper. The audacity of this stranger, manipulating me into marriage, then dictating my life! Callahan chuckled, the sound grating on my raw nerves.

“Remember that little document you signed in a flurry of desperation? Consider it our roadmap, Miss O’Neil. And speaking of your new address, you’ll be moving into my house. It wouldn’t do for the wife of Callahan Rehan to live like a… church mouse.” His gaze swept over me, a flicker of something unreadable in its depths.

Fury surged through me, hot and potent. “I won’t be your trophy wife, carted around at your convenience!” I spat, my voice regaining its edge. This man, all billionaire bravado and callous pronouncements, had underestimated me.

But instead of anger, my outburst elicited another chuckle from him. “Don’t be so dramatic, Emma. You signed, remember? Refuse, and you lose everything.” He studied me, a predator assessing its prey. “Besides, for someone who desperately needs my help, you seem awfully fond of running your mouth.”

His words stung, leaving behind a bitter residue of truth. He had me, bound by desperation and a contract I barely understood. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. He was right. He held the cards, but I wouldn’t be his pawn. With a sigh heavy with resignation, I conceded, “Fine. You win. I’ll play your game, Callahan. But don’t think for a second that I’m your puppet.”

Again he chuckled but that was the last we spoke until we arrived at his house. My mouth fell ajar as I gaped at the villa the car drove into. This man was thrice as rich as my father and his house was also three times as large. It was an estate not a house. I could feel Callahan’s gaze on me even though he was silent, I knew he was silently laughing at me but I didn’t care.

And the inside of the main mansion was more lavish, they were maids and butlers standing in rolls waiting for us . From the way they were dressed, I felt as if I was one of them. I still hadn’t changed from my ushering outfit, it made me feel insecure causing me to crumple the fabric of my skirt as Callahan introduced me to them.

“This is my wife, accord to her the same level of respect you give me, any complaint from her and you are fired,” he announced and the Mirage of maids and butlers bowed in response. From their behavior I could tell that they feared Callahan but at same time they looked well paid.

I felt like the earth should open and swallow me whole but at the same time, I felt conflicted. I couldn’t figure out the character of Callahan. Sometimes he was caring and possessive other times he was a rich asshole. Silently, I followed him up the stairs until we got to the top floor. It was then I abruptly stopped , breaking my hand free from Callahan’s grasp.

“Where is my room?” I asked because he didn’t seem like the right person to direct me to my room; that was probably the work of a butler.

Instead of replying he chuckled with a light shake of his head and clicked his tongue as if I had asked a very silly question. “My poor Emma, you should try and read the contract after you get a rest because it is entailed in it that husband and wife MUST sleep on one bed no matter what.”