Bounded By My Billionaire's Contract

~ELARA~ Meeting him was the beginning of my misery... and falling in love with him sealed my fate. A fate I could not possibly evade even if I attempted to do so, for it was already too late; he had completely consumed my very being, rendering me helpless in his grasp. But if I could turn back time to the exact moment and place where our story began, would I choose to save myself from this dreadful fate or embrace it still... *** "What do you mean?" I bellowed in fury with tears threatening to spill from my eyes, frustration evident in my tone. "I said out of my way now." "I apologize, madam. I cannot allow you to leave. We were instructed to keep you confined within the premises", the black-clad bodyguard with wireless earbuds firmly said, blocking my path. Enraged, I stormed up the stairs, tears burning a path down my cheeks, and flung open the door to the room. "I cannot believe he would do this. This was never part of the contract," I seethed, slamming the door shut behind me and collapsing onto the bed. But my thoughts were immediately jolted by the sound of shattering glass. I sat up quickly, wiping away my tears and trying to focus my blurred vision on the source of the noise. Summoning my courage, I rose from the king-sized bed where I always slept alone. And my heart sank to my stomach as I approached the shattered remnants of what once was a photograph. As I stood there, a wave of emotions washed over me as I realized my actions. In a fit of anger, I had destroyed the picture of the woman who held the key to my husband's heart. I was no match for her, undeserving to replace her. Shocking, is it not? But at that moment, all I could think about were the repercussions I would face for my rashness, for breaking her photograph. I was forbidden to touch any of my husband's possessions, especially the precious images of her that decorated the walls of his room. It was the first thing Lawrence Harrington, my husband, had warned me about when we married a week ago and I moved in. Panic-stricken, I knelt, desperately attempting to gather the shattered pieces, knowing I could not undo the damage, but still willing to try. In the end, I only succeeded in cutting myself. "Ouch," I moaned in pain, gazing hard at the blood oozing out of my index finger. As soon as my cry of pain reverberated throughout the house, Mrs. Jemma, a middle-aged maid, quickly rushed to the room and my side. She saw me stubbornly trying to extract the shards of glass embedded in my skin, despite the excruciating pain. "Oh, ma'am, what happened? Please, don't touch it," she implored, her voice constricted with worry. She carefully assisted me to my feet and guided me to the bed, urging me to ignore the shards of glass and focus on my injury. In a flurry, she disposed of the debris and tidied up the mess, while I sat on the bed, consumed by thoughts. Despite the throbbing pain in my finger, I remained numb, overwhelmed by a surge of intense feelings. Anger, in particular, boiled within me. This marriage should have never happened. I never wanted it, but fate had other plans. And now, I've come to realize what a beast Lawrence is. According to him, I made him betray the love he has for Anna, the woman in the photo. But I have never met her, and no one ever speaks of her in this house. I don't even know where she is. Ma'am?," Mrs. Jemma's voice snapped me back to reality. She stood before me with a first-aid kit. "Yes, yes," I stammered, wiping my tears away. "Please allow me to tend to your wounds," she insisted, taking my hands and carefully wiping the blood away with a cotton swab and methylated spirit. The piercing sensation made me wince, but I endured it until she finished. "All done," she beamed, but I could not bring myself to return the gesture. Tears still threatened to overflow from my eyes. Mrs. Jemma had been like a mother to me in the one week that I had been caged within these walls, and she could see my pains. As I lay on the bed, riddled with countless thoughts that plagued my mind, a sudden movement caught my attention. Turning to face the source, I saw that Mrs. Jemma had not left as I thought, but instead, she sat on the bed with a look of concern etched upon her face, fixated upon me. I tried in vain to conceal my tears, but Mrs. Jemma had seen my tears and this wasn't the first time. I had been shedding tears ever since I was forced into this marriage, against my own will. Now, I am nothing but a prisoner to this man. "Elara..." she spoke softly, her hand gently caressing my hair as she gazed at me with concern. "I know this past week has been incredibly difficult for you, but believe me when I say that Lawrence was not always like this. He used to be the sweetest person I knew, until that fateful incident...." She hesitated for a moment darting her eyes away from my curious gaze. Suddenly, I sat up, my gaze trying to lock with hers. "What fateful incident happened? Why is no one telling me anything? If he truly was a good man before, what could have possibly changed him?" My words came out in a choked voice, my nose running with tears. But Mrs. Jemma remained silent, unable to find the words to speak. Then, I scoffed, growing frustrated. "You have nothing to say? Then do not try to paint the monster I married as a decent man. You are not the one being punished for something you know nothing about." "Elara... I cannot speak of it," Mrs. Jemma attempted to calm me down, but I refused to be subdued. All I wanted was to be left alone. Mentally drained, I longed for an end to all of this. As she left the room and closed the door behind her, I buried my face in my pillow, wishing I could simply disappear. A few hours passed, and I was awoken by the sound of a car honking repeatedly. Checking my phone, I saw that it was already 8 pm. I must have fallen asleep after exhausting myself from crying. Hastily getting out of bed, I peeked through the window and saw that Lawrence had returned home. A surge of anxiety and anger filled my body as I watched his bodyguards open the car door for him to step out. Hurriedly, I dressed myself and descended the stairs, ready to confront him for instructing the guards to confine me within the walls of this house. As I descended, one of the bodyguards swung open the door, and Lawrence strode in. At the sight of him walking in, my body trembled. This was only the second time we had come face to face since I moved here. Every morning, I made sure to avoid him, either by coming down late for breakfast or being in bed already when he returned from work. But today, I refused to stay still and be treated like a prisoner. I needed to stand up for myself. Instantly, his gaze shifted from his phone and he paused for a moment, while I stood frozen on the stairs, refusing to take another step. Then, he averted his eyes and continued walking past me without a word. I clenched my fists and my breath caught in my throat. I was consumed with anger, more than my body could contain. "How dare you restrict me from going out? Was this all part of your plan? That I would be your prisoner?" I blurted out, unable to stop myself, still facing forward. Despite the distance he had moved passed me, he stopped in his tracks and my heart shook as I clenched my jaw tightly awaiting his response. Instead, his footsteps continued, and I turned around in outrage. Did he just ignore me? I watched him still engrossed in his phone, as he ascended the stairs, completely disregarding my existence. My agitation only grew. "I never wanted this marriage. I never wanted any of this. I just want my life back!" I blurted out, my voice trembling with emotion and tears threatening to spill. Only for him to halt in his step and turn around to stare into my burning gaze. His eyes were filled with fury as he descended the stairs slowly and my heart thumped against my chest causing me to stutter backward as he closed in on me. "How dare you raise your voice at me?" His voice, deep and velvety, boomed across the room, echoing through the air and piercing my skin. As he approached me from the stairs, my lips trembled with words that refused to escape. My legs grew weak in the presence of his suave demeanor, and I struggled to maintain my balance as I backed away from him but he grabbed my jaw with an iron grip, forcing me to meet his piercing gaze. "Is this what you call a marriage?" he bellowed, his voice dripping with contempt. "I will make sure your life is a living hell, and you will rue the day you crossed paths with me. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I saw a surge of emotion in his intense stare. Among them, the strongest was undeniably pure hatred. He despised me with every fiber of his being, and his words were not idle threats. I loathed him as well, but I was powerless because I had everything to lose. After a few moments, he finally released his grasp on my jaw and stormed into his room, leaving me standing there, paralyzed with conflicting thoughts. It's still hard to believe that I'll be stuck in this marriage and this house for two whole years until the contract ends. Yes, I am bound to Lawrence Harrington by a contract and after that, I am expected to disappear from this city without a trace.