The BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET Desire

Mary George strummed the strings of her guitar, each note soft and haunting, echoing through the open windows of her family brownstone in Brooklyn, outside the late spring air was thick with the scent of rain as asphalt, and from the street belle came the usual symphony of honking horns, shouting vendors and life moving too fast but in this moment-just her and strings,,,Everyting, slowed That was her sanctuary. Music has always been her place. When her mother died, it was her guitar that caught her tears. When she flunked her scholarship audition, it was the same chords she plays now that have held her together. Her voice, soft but rich with emotion, filled the room as she sang a verse she'd written that morning : ”Love is a cage made of velvet and gold, Soft to the touch but bitter and cold ….”” The door slammed downstairs. Mary flinched, the last note dying abruptly. “Mary!” Her father's voice rang throughout the house. She sat her guitar down, her heart tightening with worry. Lately, her father has been differently distracted. More gray in his hair, more weight in his steps, and always, always on his phone, business calls, investors, legal trouble she wasn’t supposed to know about. She found him in his office, hunched over his desk, tie loosened, hand clutching the edge like he was trying not to fall over . “Dad? She asked gently, “What happened?” He didn’t look up. “Sit down,” he said after a long pause, his voice hoarse. Mary obeyed the worry gnawing at her chest now. His office smelled of strong coffee and faint despair.she hadn’t seen her father like this since her mother’s funeral. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,“he said finally,“and I need you to fix it “. ———————————— An hours later, Mary said frozen the words echoing in her ears An arranged marriage with billionaire Clinton max No,”she said “it came out weak,a whispers, but she she meant it with her whole soul,” You can’t be serious,” He’s willing to clear our debt, invest in the company ..”save us, Mary I’m facing prison if I don’t pay those men back.Do you understand that ? Prison “ She swallowed,her stomach churning. “There has to be another way,” There isn’t. “Her father ran a trembling hand through his hair” I know it not fair ,but this is business.life isn’t fair Clinton max don’t want love. He wanted an imagined ,a wife who would stand beside him at galas,smile for the press,keep quite. It’s just a contract, Mary noting more. She laughed bitterly.” That sounds like a life imprisonment.” ————————————————————— That night,Mary sat alone in her bedroom, starting at the engagement ring that has been sent over in a velvet box.it was massive,cold sparking like it was mocking her. You’re not the type who Mary marries for money, she thought. But this wasn’t about her. It was about her father, her younger brother, still in college, the employees at George holding whose paycheck,were already late.the company was her mother’s legacy too.she remembered holding her parents hand in that hospital bed ,promising to protect the family. But marry a man like Clinton max ? She barely knows him, just the story-tabloids painted him as New York most eligible nightmare. Cold, calculating. A shark in a tailored suit. Women adored him ,men feared him. No one really know him. And now he wanted her. Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: “You’ll wear the ring tomorrow. A car will pick you up at 10-Max “ No. Hello . No, please, just a command. Mary stared at it for a long time before typing : I’m not something you buy. The reply came within seconds: “Everything has a price Mary, even you”. Her blood boiled. She wanted to throw the phone across the room. Instead, she deleted the messages, put on her headphones,and blasted her music until the world disappeared ————————————————————— The next morning ,9: 59 am. A sleek black car waited outside the brownstone. Mary stood on the front steps in a pale blue dress her father's assistant had delivered .Her short blonde curls were pinned back,her makeup soft but flawless. She looked like a bride already or a sacrifice. The door opened. A man stepped out, not max ,but someone equally polished. His name was Carter ,max personal aide,silent ,stone face. He held the car door for her. The ride was silent.mary stared out the tinted windows, watching the city blur as her chest felt tight ,her limbs colds.her guitar was at home.her life was at home. This was something else .some surreal nightmare she hadn’t woken up from yet. They pulled into a private elevator beneath a skyscraper that gleamed like glass and steel dominated. Clinton max’s world. The door open into a penthouse so sleek.it could have been a museum, marble floor, massive windows, black leather furniture,cold,beautiful And empty.. He stood by the Window Tall,broad-shouldered,dressed in a dark suit that probably cost more than her father’s car. Clinton max turned to face her , and Mary met the man who was about to Become her husband. His piercing blue eye meet hers. Sharp calculating. “You’re prettier than the photo,” he said simply. And you’re ruder than the rumors “ she shot back A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth,as if amused. I like you already,” Mary crossed her arms,.“let get something’ straight. I’m not here because I want to be.I’m doing this for my family.the moment your contract ends I’m gone “” Clinton walked towards her slowly,like a predator circling prey.he stopped a foot away. “You’ll finds “ he said softly,that no one leave me Untill I Say so..””