Bound by Vows

Chapter 4; It’s a deal

The smell of antiseptic filled the air as I stepped into the hospital, the fluorescent lightbulb gave everything a harsh, unforgiving glow. I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, clutching it tightly as I made my way down the corridor toward Ethan’s room. Room 214. The number loomed before me like a weight on my chest. I paused outside the door and plastered a smile on my face, taking a deep breath to steady myself before pushing it open. Ethan lay on the bed, pale and fragile, his face almost blending in with the white hospital sheets. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, and the once-lively spark in his gaze was replaced by exhaustion. “Hey, big sis,” he said weakly, managing a small smile as I entered. “Hey, kiddo,” I replied, forcing happiness into my voice. I walked over and gently placed a kiss on his forehead. He was so thin. Too thin. He looked even worse than he had been the last time I had seen him.“How are you feeling today?” I asked, sitting beside him and brushing the hair from his forehead. He shrugged. “Tired. But Dr. Freya said I might get stronger if the new treatment works.” I nodded, my throat tightening. The new treatment. The one I still hadn’t paid for. “That’s good to hear,” I said, keeping my tone light. “You’re going to be up and about in no time.” Ethan smiled faintly. “How’s mum?”I swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s…she’s doing fine,” I knew that my mum hadn’t been to the hospital for months now, since he got worse, she just abandoned him, leaving everything to me.I could see in his eyes how much he missed her. “It’s good she’s not here to see me like this,” he said and grinned widely but the effort seemed to drain him as His eyes fluttered closed almost immediately, and I watched him as he drifted off to sleep. He was acting so matured for his age, he didn’t want me to see how sad he was and that brought tears to my eyes.The quiet beeping of the monitors filled the room, each sound hammering into my heart. I sat there for what felt like hours, my gaze fixed on Ethan’s frail form. This wasn’t fair. He was only sixteen. He should be worrying about school, friends, and basketball, not surgeries and treatments. My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly, but the tears came anyway. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob, but it escaped, loud and raw in the silence. I had been given an opportunity to see him, albeit, a harsh one, but it was an opportunity and if I refused, he might not make it and I wouldn’t forgive myself.I pulled myself together and left the room quietly, not wanting to disturb Ethan. As I walked down the corridor, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and froze when I saw the name on the screen. Billing Department.I let out a huge exhale, the doctor had already called me just yesterday.My stomach churned as I swiped to answer. “Miss Whitmore, this is a courtesy reminder that payment for Ethan’s treatment is overdue. We’ll need at least a partial payment by the end of the week to continue his care.” “I… I understand,” I stammered, gripping the phone tightly. “I’m sorry to put pressure on you, but it’s policy,” the woman said, her tone apologetic but firm. “I’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice trembling, more as a promise to myself than to her. When the call ended, I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give out. How? How was I supposed to figure it out? The weight of everything crashed down on me, Ethan’s bills, the failing business, the endless demands from creditors. And then, like a cruel whisper, Damian Blackwood’s proposal came back to me. He could fix this. At what cost? I clenched my fists, hating that I was even considering it. But as much as I wanted to fight it, the truth was undeniable. I was running out of options, and time was slipping away faster than I could grasp it. The decision I dreaded most was no longer just a possibility. It was a necessity. That night, sleep eluded me. I lay in bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, my mind racing with every possible scenario.What if I said no?Ethan’s face appeared in my mind, pale and fragile. If I refused Damian, the treatments would stop. I couldn’t let that happen.But agreeing meant giving up my autonomy, my dreams of running the company on my own terms. I’d be bound to a man who didn’t give a damn about me, bound by some stupid paper that turned marriage into a cold business arrangement.The tears came before I could stop them. By morning, I had made up my mind.Damian’s office was just as intimidating as the man himself, sleek, modern, and impossibly cold.I stood in the massive glass lobby, clutching my bag tightly like a lifeline as the receptionist guided me toward the private elevator that would take me to the top floor.When I got there and told the receptionist my name, she ushered me in as though she was aware of my arrival beforehand.When the doors opened, I found myself in a space that screamed wealth and power. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an beautiful view of the city, and the furniture looked like it cost more than my entire company.Damian was seated behind a massive desk, his attention focused on the papers in front of him.He glanced up as I entered, his expression unreadable. “Miss Whitmore.”“Mr. Blackwood,” I replied, my voice more composed than I expected.He gestured to the chair opposite him. “Please, sit.”I obeyed, clutching my bag tightly as he leaned back in his chair, watching me with those piercing gray eyes.“I’ve made my decision,” I said, forcing the words out before I could change my mind.His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “And?”“I’ll marry you,” I said, each word like a dagger to my pride. “But I have conditions.”His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing, waiting for me to continue.“Ethan’s treatment comes first,” I said firmly. “You cover everything, every bill, every procedure, no exceptions,” I emphasized on each word.“Done,” he said without hesitation.“And,” I added, my voice trembling slightly, “I keep control of Whitmore Designs. You can provide funding, but the creative decisions remain mine.”He considered this for a moment before nodding. “Agreed.”I stared at him, surprised by how easily he was giving in. “That’s it?”He smirked, leaning forward. “Did you think I’d fight you on this? Miss Whitmore, I don’t care about your designs. I care about results. As long as the company performs well, you can run it however you like.”His word stung hard, but I nodded.“Anything else?” he asked, his tone almost mocking.“No,” I said quietly.“Good,” he said, standing and extending his hand. “Then we have a deal.”I hesitated, then took his hand. His grip was firm, his skin cool against mine.This was it.I had just agreed to marry Damian Blackwood.“Let’s get down to business,” he said, making my narrow my eyes. What business?He chuckled upon seeing my expression. “You don’t think I’d have some precautions in place, just Incase?” His laughter was mocking as he pulled open his drawer and brought out a document, sliding it across the desk. “This is the agreement. It outlines the terms of our arrangement.”I picked up the papers, my hands trembling as I skimmed through them. The legal jargon blurred together, but the main thing was clear: I would marry Damian Blackwood, and in return, he would save Whitmore Designs and cover Ethan’s medical expenses. Everything! It was as though he knew that I was going to ask for that.“This is a lot to take in,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.“You have until tomorrow to sign,” he said, his tone firm. “I suggest you read it carefully. If there’s anything you’d like to discuss or amend, let me know.”I stood up, clutching the document to my chest. “Why are you doing this?”His eyes locked onto mine, unreadable and cold. “Because I can.”I turned and walked out of his office, my mind racing with several thoughts.That night, I sat at my kitchen table, the agreement spread out before me. Every line felt like a nail in the coffin of my dreams.But when I thought of Ethan, of his pale face, his fragile body, it was impossible to ignore the truth.I didn’t have a choice.With tears streaming down my face, I picked up a pen and signed my name.When I woke up the next morning, everything felt like a dream. It was only when I stared at the signed document in front of me, the ink still fresh that I realized that I had literally sold the rest of my life to the devil.When I walked into Blackwood Tower that morning, I kept trying to compose myself, to stop the tears from falling. “Miss Whitmore,” the receptionist greeted me.I nodded, finally finding my voice. “Where is he?”“Mr. Blackwood is…” she struggled to find the right word and I narrowed my eyes at her before walking towards the elevator. The elevator ride seemed even longer this time, the silence pressing down on me. When the door finally opened, Damian was sitting at the head of a sleek black table, his tongue shoved into the mouth of a blonde woman who looked as fake as they come.The file fell out of my hand in shock and that was when they noticed me.I gasped. I hadn’t even married him and this was it?He smirked. “You’re punctual,” his hands were still around her Breast and she didn’t seem at all fazed as she smiled back at me.He chuckled, noticing my expression. “Why do you look so surprised? You don’t really expect me to do anything with you right?”I gasped. “But…but we’re to be married..”“And?” He c****d a brow and that was when I got the answer I needed.