Surrendering to his obsession

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

The collision with the other vehicle was catastrophic. Everything went dark and I found myself searching for my parents.

“Mum! Where are you?” I called out in the dream, my voice echoing in an abyss of the darkness surrounding me. “Dad! Mum!”

I awoke abruptly, still calling out to them, my gaze fixed on the ceiling as I caught my breath. My mind, still racing through the echoes of that nightmarish memory.

Blinking against the harsh light of a fancy bulb overhead, I sat up, and a splitting headache hit me like a freight train.

“Ugh f*ck!” I exclaimed, pressing my head down into the plush velvet pillow, hoping to ease the pain.

As the throbbing subsided slightly, I managed to sit back up, my surroundings coming into focus.

Okay… this is not my apartment. I thought, where the hell am I?

The room screamed wealth with expensive furniture, elegant decor, and a sense of opulence that I had never experienced.

Then I remember fragments from last night: a bar, a man, bets. Ugh, everything was just jumbled up in my head.

Still confused about the whole situation, I pushed myself to the edge of the bed. As I stepped down, my foot landed on a piece of paper.

Bending to pick it up, I caught a glimpse of something shiny on my finger.

A ring. I raised my hand, staring at the diamond that sparkled in the light.

What the devil is this? I wondered, a wave of panic rising within me.

I quickly removed the ring and tossed it onto the bed, as if it were a snake that might bite.

Glancing back at the paper, I picked it up. Looking at it, it felt oddly familiar, but the shock came when I saw my signature boldly scrawled across the bottom.

It was a contract, a damning contract! Stating that I would do whatever a Mr. Jayden Garrettson said.

“No, this cannot be happening!” My heart raced as disbelief settled in. This cannot be happening.

I tore the paper into pieces, the sound echoing in the silence of the room, as I bolted toward the door.

I grasped the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Panic surged through me as I banged on the door.

“Let me out! Someone help, please!” I shouted, my voice echoed back, a cruel reminder of my isolation.

I was trapped in an unfamiliar environment, surrounded by luxury that felt foreign and suffocating.

The fear of the unknown gripped me tightly and I realized that I had to find a way out. Not just from this room, but from whatever nightmare I had stumbled into.

Just as I was contemplating on what to do next. The door swung open, and an attractive, older man stepped inside. His presence was both magnetic and commanding.

His neatly styled dark hair featured streaks of gray, and he wore a meticulously tailored suit, but there was something oddly familiar about him.

Suddenly, a chilling sensation swept through me when I realized he was the same driver from last night. My pulse quickened, and I automatically took a step back.

Why is he here? Is he the one responsible for my predicament?

“Who… who are you?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

The man ignored my question, instead, he walked across the dimly lit room towards where the torn paper lay scattered on the floor.

He picked up a fragment, his fingers brushing against the ripped edges as he stated matter-of-factly. “You tore it,” his voice smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of authority.

I didn't know if it was a question or a statement “It isn’t mine,” I replied defensively.

He took a seat with his back to the door, the light casting a shadow over his sharp features.

“Sit,” he commanded, gesturing toward the bed.

Reluctantly, I obeyed, my mind racing with confusion and anxiety.

“I see that you recognize me.”

“Shouldn't I?” I asked, puzzled.

“I don't know, with the amount of alcohol you consumed last night, who knows?”

I decided to tread carefully because I couldn't remember most things from last night. “Why am I here? And what business do I have with you?” I asked.

“My name is Jayden Garrettson,” he began, his voice smooth and authoritative.

I gasped. “Like on the paper!”

“Yes, and you signed a binding contract with me,” he replied, his tone unwavering.

“No, I didn’t,” I protested, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Yes, you did. Last night, to be precise,” he countered, his gaze piercing through me.

I struggled to piece together the fragmented memories of the previous night.

“But like you said, I had too much to drink,” I admitted. “So how could a contract I signed under that state be binding?”

“Certainly, you shouldn't have signed it in that state. But nonetheless, you did sign it, and I'm here to collect.”

“You're exploiting a child!” I accused him.

"Not really. You did say that you’re an adult and can do whatever you want,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in a knowing smirk.

I opened my mouth to retort, then closed it again, realizing the truth in his words.

“Look, Mr Garrettson, I’m really sorry about last night. Let's just shake hands and pretend it never happened,” I suggested, extending my hand in a gesture of goodwill.

He looked at my outstretched hand with an air of arrogance, scoffing softly. “You think it’s that simple?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

“I’ve torn it, so you can't use it on me anyway,” I insisted, desperation creeping into my tone.

"That’s the photocopy, the original is safe here with me," he said, patting his chest.

“This can't be real.” I said. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“Hardly," he replied, his eyes narrowing. "You made a deal last night, and it isn’t one that can simply be ignored. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

“What do you want from me then?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of defeat heavy on my shoulders.

“Well, Liliana right?” he replied, his tone smooth yet commanding and I nodded. “I’m in need of a wife, and I want you to fill that role for a year.”

I gasped, the word ‘marriage’ hung in the air like a thundercloud. “I won’t do such a thing,” I stated firmly. Please, not another heartbreaking experience.

He pulled out a document and waved it in front of me. “I don’t think you have a choice,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I narrowed my eyes, skepticism flooding my thoughts. “I bet that contract has no ground.”

“Do you want to prove that in court?” he challenged, his gaze unwavering.

“That’s…” I stammered, caught off guard by his confidence.

“I thought so too,” he continued, leaning back in his chair, exuding an air of authority. “Now, little girl…”

“Don’t call me that,” I interrupted, my irritation flaring.

“Why not?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I'm not a little girl, I'm nineteen," I challenged, my voice rising slightly.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that echoed in the room. “Really? 'Cause an adult wouldn’t get herself into such a mess.”

His words struck a nerve, leaving me momentarily speechless. “You’re such a mean man,” I pouted, crossing my arms defiantly.

“No, I’m a realist,” he countered, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. “That being said, I'm gonna let you go now.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised by his sudden dismissal.

“Yeah, we will discuss the details later. I have other things to attend to,” he replied, his tone dismissive.

That is, if you see me, I mused silently, devising strategies to ensure I wouldn’t cross paths with him again.

“Make sure you’re available when I call, do you get that?” he added, his voice firm as if reading my thoughts.

I nodded, grabbed my bag, and left the building, my mind racing with thoughts of what had just transpired.

As I walked home, I passed by the bar and decided to seek solace in the familiar company of my friend Sandra.

I entered and spotted her at the counter. Once she saw me, her expression shifted from surprise to anger as I approached.

“Hey, I…”

“You fool! What did you do last night?” she snapped, her voice sharp.

“You’ve heard?” I asked, my heart sinking. “I thought it was just a game.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t do something stupid!” she exclaimed, her frustration palpable.

“So the contract is binding?” I asked nervously, my stomach twisting in knots. The thought of my future being tied to a deal I never wanted made my stomach churn.

"Of course it is," she replied. "f**k, my boss would have taken you home last night."

"Why would your boss take me home?" I asked, incredibly. The idea was absurd, and yet, a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

"It's… it's nothing actually," she said nervously, and my suspicions were confirmed.

“Sandra, what does this have to do with your boss?”