CHAPTER 6
832 Words
Not in a loud or flashy way.
But in a way that made it hard to look away.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Dressed, but everything about him looked expensive. His face was sharp, defined, calm—but there was something else in his eyes.
Something unreadable.
Something that made her uneasy.
She had never seen him before.
And yet…
Something about him felt familiar.
Like a face she had seen once… a long time ago.
But she couldn’t place it.
Her brows pulled together slightly as she tried to remember.
Nothing came.
“Hmm.”
The sound broke her thoughts.
Clara realized she had been staring.
Her breath caught slightly as she looked away for a second, then back at him.
There was another man in the room too.
He sat comfortably on a chair a few feet away, watching everything quietly like he had seen this kind of situation many times before.
“Well?” the seated man asked casually.
The man in front of Clara didn’t respond immediately.
He was still looking at her.
Studying her.
Not like a man looking at a woman.
But like someone trying to figure something out.
Clara felt exposed under that gaze.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
“What… is this place?” she asked, her voice not as strong as she wanted it to be.
No one answered her.
The standing man finally spoke.
“She’ll do.”
Clara’s heart dropped.
Her eyes widened slightly. “What?”
The seated man nodded once, like that was all he needed to hear.
“Alright, sir” he said.
He reached for a file on the small table beside him and handed it over.
The man in front of Clara took it without looking away from her for too long.
He flipped through a few pages quickly.
Then, it closed it.
And held it out toward her.
“Take it.”
Clara hesitated.
Her body didn’t move at first.
“Take it,” he repeated, his tone calm but not something she felt she could ignore.
Slowly, she reached out.
Her fingers brushed against the file as she took it from him.
It felt heavier than it should.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it.
The room felt too quiet.
Too still.
Her eyes moved across the first page.
Then the second.
And then—
Her breath caught.
Her entire body went cold.
Her grip tightened around the paper as her eyes scanned the words again.
And again.
Like maybe she had read it wrong.
Like maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.
But it didn’t change.
The words stayed the same.
Clear.
Sharp.
Real.
Her lips parted slightly.
“This…” she whispered.
Her voice shook.
“This has to be a mistake…”
No one spoke.
Clara looked up at him, panic rising fast in her chest.
“This says… marriage agreement,” she said, her voice louder now, filled with disbelief.
Her heart pounded violently.
She flipped through the pages again, faster this time.
Names.
Conditions.
Terms.
Everything was written out like it was normal.
Like it was something people just… did.
“What is this?!” she demanded, her voice breaking as she looked between both men. “What kind of joke is this?!”
“It’s not a joke,” the seated man said calmly.
Clara shook her head immediately. “No… no, I’m not doing this. I don’t even know you, people!”
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
“I was just” her voice cracked, emotions crashing into each other again. “I was just at my cousin’s engagement… and now you’re telling me to marry a stranger?!”
Silence.
The man in front of her finally moved.
Just one step closer.
Clara instinctively stepped back.
“Relax,” he said.
But there was nothing in his tone that actually made her feel relaxed.
“If I don’t?” she shot back, fear and anger mixing now. “What happens if I refuse?”
For the first time, his expression changed slightly.
Not much.
Just enough.
“You don’t have many options,” he said simply.
Clara felt that in her chest.
Heavy.
Real.
Her mind raced.
Her aunt’s words echoed in her head.
Your husband won’t like stubborn behavior.
Her stomach dropped again.
“You bought me,” she said slowly, the realization hitting harder now. “That man… back there… you—”
“I did buy you,” he cut in.
Clara froze.
Her brows furrowed. “Then what is this?!”
He held her gaze.
“From now,” he said calmly, “you’re under rule, I own you".
Protection.
The word didn’t sit right with her.
Not after everything that had happened.
Her fingers tightened around the file again.
“This isn’t right,” she said, her voice shaking but firm. “This is control.”
A small silence followed.
The seated man leaned back slightly, watching with interest.
- Writer
