Painted in his obsession

Chapter 3

The silence in the room felt like a blade pressed against my neck.

Leo and Lex sat across from me, too big for the little wooden chairs my uncle had owned since I was a child. They looked so out of place in our shabby living room, their clean tailored suits brushing against the peeling paint of our walls, their expensive shoes barely touching the cracked cement floor.

A file rested on the center table between us. Thick, polished, with golden edges.

I frowned and reached for it. My fingers trembled as I flipped it open.

A marriage contract.

Between me… and Leonard Adams.

My chest tightened instantly, and I swallowed so hard it hurt. My eyes scanned the neatly printed lines, the black ink staring back at me like a trap.

I lifted my gaze. Leo’s cold dark eyes were fixed on me, unreadable. Lex’s lips curved into something between a smirk and pity.

“You won’t have anything to worry about after this contract is signed,” Lex said smoothly, his voice cutting through the stale air.

His gaze drifted around the house as if the walls themselves disgusted him. “This place…” he muttered, lifting his hand slightly, “will be behind you.”

I noticed how both of them sat carefully, avoiding touching anything as if they had walked into a disaster zone.

The humiliation stung.

But I straightened my back, pushing the file away slightly. “I’m not interested, sir.” My voice came out louder than I expected, steady, confident, even though my heart was pounding against my ribs.

Lex leaned back, one eyebrow arched. “I did my investigations. Your uncle’s health needs immediate attention. You might want to rethink.”

His words slammed into me, making my throat dry.

They actually got me there. My fingers stilled on my lap. I turned slowly to Leo, searching his face. But he wasn’t even speaking, just staring at me. Staring like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Like he still couldn’t believe I wasn’t his wife.

His eyes scanned my face, my body, my every movement. I felt my skin burn under his gaze.

And God help me, part of me noticed everything about him too.

He was the kind of man I had only seen in dreams, the kind my silly teenage self once wrote about in a hidden diary. Tall, broad shoulders that filled his suit perfectly. His muscles pressed against the white shirt under his jacket.

His jaw was sharp, covered with a neatly trimmed beard that only made him look more dangerous, more commanding. His dark hair was styled perfectly, not a strand out of place.

And the scent dear God, that scent. His cologne wrapped around me, strong but comforting, the kind of smell that made my knees weak.

I always had a secret weakness for men who smelled good. But not like this. Not when it came with chains and contracts.

“Are you… threatening me?” I asked finally, though my voice had lost the earlier confidence. It cracked slightly, betraying the fear beneath.

My biggest goal in life was simple: give my uncle a comfortable life before death came knocking. My worst fear was watching him pass away without ever tasting the good things in life.

My uncle, silent until now, reached for the file. His frail hands shook as he scanned through it. His face remained calm, but I knew every twitch, every sigh, every flicker of pain. Finally, he pushed the file back to them.

“I won’t accept this,” he said firmly, his voice surprisingly steady for a man so sick.

Leo’s jaw clenched. Without a word, he picked up the file and placed it deliberately back on the table. “Let me know when you change your mind,” he said, his deep voice cold and final.

He stood. Lex followed, brushing invisible dust from his suit as if the air itself offended him.

When they left, I collapsed back into the chair, my chest heaving.

The offer was tempting. They had promised everything, better housing, a monthly allowance, a driver, a housekeeper, full coverage of my uncle’s medical bills. A life I had always wished for him.

But at what cost?

My uncle’s eyes found mine. His lips pulled into a weak smile.

“You don’t have to bother about this. We’ll be fine.”

I shook my head, tears burning behind my eyes. But I saw the worry behind his smile. He wanted a good life for me, desperately, but not this way.

He had always told me I should marry for love and not for money.

The pain in his eyes broke me silently.

He turned his face toward the window. He always did that when he was praying silently, asking God to be kind to us, to give us a break. And watching him do that now made my chest ache more than anything.

I looked at him holding back my tears and suddenly, he coughed.

It started small, but then it grew, violent and loud, shaking his fragile body.

“Dad?” I rushed to his side, panic flooding me.

He tried to wave me off, but the cough grew harsher. And then I saw blood stain in the white handkerchief he pressed to his mouth.

“Blood! Oh my God, Dad!” I screamed.

His body trembled, his breath coming in short gasps. And then he collapsed against the chair.

“Dad!” My scream tore out of me as I grabbed him. My hands shook so badly I almost dropped my phone while dialing emergency.

Everything was a blur. The flashing red lights. The loud siren. The rush of paramedics bursting into the room.

“Please! Save him! Please!” I begged as they laid him on a stretcher.

I ran after them, my legs barely keeping up as they pushed him into the ambulance. My whole world felt like it was crashing.

At the hospital, they wheeled him inside, disappearing through the double doors.

“Wait here,” a nurse told me.

So I waited.

Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. I sat, stood, paced, cried, prayed. I clutched my hands together so tight my knuckles turned white. My stomach knotted painfully.

Finally, a doctor came out, his face serious.

“Are you his daughter?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed.

The doctor sighed. “He has lung abscess. It requires immediate surgery.”

I nodded quickly, my chest tight. “Okay. Then do it. Please, just do it.”

“The surgery costs five million dollars. We need at least three million upfront to proceed.”

The words slammed into me like a punch to the chest.

“What?” My voice broke. “Three million? I…I don’t have that kind of money!”

The doctor shook his head. “Without it, we can’t move forward.”

I felt my knees weaken. I dropped onto the hard hospital floor, my palms slamming against it as tears blurred my vision.

My life savings all the money I had kept away for years was just $400,000. And that was already for the rent and his drugs.

$400,000 against $5, 000,000.

It was like standing in front of a mountain barefoot, with nothing but my bare hands.

I pressed my forehead to the cold floor. I couldn’t breathe. It fe

lt like my soul had left me.

“God,” I whispered, my tears dripping down. “Please don’t take him from me. Please.”