Betrayed By Blood, Bound By Love

Chapter 2

Pale shadows were cast on the hardwood flooring by the morning light that came through the thin curtains. Daphne was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling above her with wide-open yet blind eyes. Like an unrelenting drumbeat, the events of the night before, Jackson's icy proposal, and the terrifying ultimatum replayed themselves in her head. She was forced to make a decision she wasn't ready for when she saw her mother's face, which was pale and haggard from the sickness that was steadily eating away at her.

There was silence in the house. She felt suffocated by the weight of the empty room pressing down on her. Outside the window, she could hear the city's faint hum, the bustle of life going on as if nothing had happened. Daphne felt as though someone had broken into her world and taken everything away from her.

She had always taken pride in her independence and problem-solving skills. However, now that her mother's life was in jeopardy, she had to make a decision that eliminated all sense of control. Jackson had left her with no choice. Either lose her mother or wed a stranger.

The thought of Elliot Radcliffe, the man she was going to marry, made her stomach turn. Even though she had never met or spoken to him, she was ready to marry him to save her mother. The idea was disgusting, but there was no way out.

Jackson's words, "If you want to save her, you'll do this," reverberated in her thoughts like a drumbeat, as did the money and resources Elliot possessed. Daphne sat up sharply and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The walls themselves seemed to be closing in on the room, making it feel colder now. She was going to have to make the most terrible choice of her life, and it was her mother's.

She got up and walked to the window, looking out at the city with her hands on the sill's edge. The cloud cover in the sky reflected the weight that descended onto her chest. Jackson's icy, heartless voice, informing her that this was the only option, could practically be heard in her mind.

Her voice was hoarse from the weight of her thoughts as she muttered, "Why?" to the empty room. “Why must I be a pawn in someone else's game with my life?” She closed her eyes, feeling sick to her stomach at the memory of Elliot Radcliffe.

She moved away from the window, her fingers tightening on the material of her shirt. She was unable to. She was unable to wed someone she didn't know, someone who was only a business deal to her father.

But her heart was troubled by the reality. No one else was present. There is no other option.

She was startled out of her reverie when her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Fearing what might be on the other end, she hesitated before grabbing it. Jackson had sent the message, asking, "Have you made up your mind?"

Her flesh crawled at the short, heartless message. More importantly, though, it validated her suspicion that Jackson wasn't posing the question out of concern. As usual, he was pushing and controlling her. The message was unambiguous: there was no space for discussion or emotion.

With sadness in her heart, she responded to her father's message in the affirmative. She was then driven to Elliot's estate by the driver sent by her father. Sitting in the car, Daphne gazed openly at the bustling city. She was speculating about what it might be like to live with a stranger.

The vehicle arrived at Elliot Radcliffe's estate with a seamless, nearly flawless stop. As she went outside, Daphne looked up at the tall building in front of her, her body tight. The home was immaculate, chilly, and everything she had anticipated. Nothing could have prepared her for the reality of standing there, about to enter this man's world, even though it was everything she had dreamed about.

With each stride, she felt the decision's weight bearing down on her. The stone walkway beneath her feet as she approached the door seemed to taunt her with each step, reminding her that she was walking into a world she didn't select.

Before she could ring the bell, the door opened, revealing Elliot Radcliffe standing in the foyer. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and possessed dark, nearly flawless features that seemed to have been chiselled out of stone, exactly as she had imagined. As soon as she entered, his icy, evaluative eyes met hers. She could feel the coldness in the air growing as soon as their eyes met.

“I assume Daphne Morgan?” There was no trace of emotion in his quiet, controlled voice. He looked at her as if he were waiting for her to say something, but he didn't extend his hand.

"Yes," she said, trying her hardest not to sound too tight. “I’m Daphne."

Elliot regarded her for a long, awkward moment, his eyes piercing and unwavering. She seemed that his gaze was following every inch of her, as if he were already listing her flaws in anticipation of the upcoming business deal.

"Jackson mentioned you," he murmured, his eyes as icy as his words. "I assume you're here to talk about the specifics."

As he spoke, his gaze never left hers, and the sombre tone of his words made her stomach turn. It's possible that Elliot was even colder than Jackson. There was nothing human about him, no warmth, just the cold civility of a businessman used to getting his way.

Elliot turned his back and walked toward a massive fireplace with a crackling fire as Daphne opened her mouth to speak, and the door behind her closed with a soft click. Over his shoulder, he said.

"If you have to, sit down. However, we're not here to spend time on small talk. I'm here because I've been told I should help you, and you're here because you need something.”

Daphne's stomach knotted in anger as the icy tone of his words felt like an accusation. She had no desire to be present. She had no desire to marry him. However, she was driven ahead by the weight of her mother's life and the frailty of everything she valued.

Every stride she took as she entered the imposing, large chamber felt like a reflection of the darkening of her spirit.

There was something unusual about the air in Elliot's mansion. It was oppressive, but strangely motionless. It was supposed to impress, the place's grandeur, its coldness, its lifelessness, but it only made her uneasy. She felt as though every choice she had made and every second that had passed before it were bearing down on her.

She followed Elliot into a spacious, well-kept room with tall bookcases lining the walls. At the far end was a deep mahogany desk that was clean despite being overflowing with papers. There was no doubt that the man was efficient. He didn't waste a single movement.

He said, "You've heard your father's proposal," in an emotionless tone. His gaze never left her as he took a seat behind the desk. "You marry me. Your mom is spared. It's as easy as that.”

The words seemed too definitive, too medical. His tone was devoid of sympathy or compassion. Struggling to calm herself, Daphne inhaled deeply.

Despite the turmoil inside of her, she asked in a firm voice, "And if I don't?" Ever since she entered the estate, the question had been bothering her. What if she turned to leave? Could she bear the shame? Would she be able to live alone?

"You will," he answered in a chilly tone, "because you won't have an option." Daphne's heart pounded in her chest. "I don't even know the man you're asking me to marry. To give up my life for financial gain.”

His eyes never left her eyes as he leaned forward a little. “It's an agreement, not a sacrifice. This is purely a commercial matter.”

Elliot got up from his seat and walked over to her, his presence commanding and frighteningly near. He grabbed a whiskey glass from the counter and sipped it slowly. “You will discover that I am not the antagonist in this story. I'm the only one who can answer your issue.”

The words weighed heavily on Daphne's stomach. There was nothing she could do. She had to lose herself in the process of marrying this alien of a man. The idea was oppressive, and as she gazed into Elliot's eyes, she questioned whether she had just fallen into a much darker trap than she had ever anticipated.