Bounded By My Billionaire's Contract

Chapter 3

~Elara~

With Mrs. Jemma holding the gate open for me, I tiptoed through the secret back entrance of the mansion, barefoot. My heart throbbed as I climbed up the makeshift rope I had crafted with pieces of cloth put together back to the room carefully without alerting the lurking bodyguards.

I was certain that Lawrence had caught a glimpse of me, but also held onto a flicker of doubt. Our eyes had met for a brief moment before I darted away, concealing myself in the bustling café. The thought of being trapped within the confines of the mansion, unable to see my mother, was unbearable. She was the only one who truly mattered to me, the reason I was willing to sacrifice two years of my life.

With my mother's life hanging in the balance, signing the marriage contract was the only choice I could make. Our lives were already at the mercy of fate, and I couldn't bear to add to my mother's burden. I would do anything to protect her, even if it meant enduring Lawrence's torment. He may be making my life a living hell, but it was a small price to pay compared to losing my mother.

As soon as I entered my room, I heard a car horn blaring outside and quickly peered out the window to see Lawrence returning. Panic set in, knowing I was in big trouble.

"He must have seen me, he wasn't supposed to be back so early," I quickly changed into more casual attire, but my nerves were still on edge.

Just as I was about to relax on my bed, I remembered the cloth I had used to escape from the room and rushed over to remove it, but it wouldn't budge.

Desperately running out of time, I had no choice but to leave it and cover it up with the curtains, hoping he wouldn't suspect anything. It was a risky move, but I had to take my chances.

As I lay on the bed, trying to calm my nerves, the door suddenly swung open and I flinched in fear. Our eyes met, and without a word, Lawrence walked into the room.

He had never set foot in his room since the day he brought me home because he didn't want to share a space with me. He prowled around the room as if on a search, barely acknowledging my presence. My hands trembled with fear as he approached the window where I had hidden the rope, praying he wouldn't uncover what I was desperately trying to hide.

Suddenly, his intense gaze shifted to me and I hastily concealed my trembling fingers in the sheets. I could tell he was suspicious of me, and I didn't want to give myself away out of fear. His intimidating presence only added to my nervousness.

"Where did you go?" he finally broke the tense silence, his hands resting against the wall near the window.

"I haven't left this house in nearly two weeks, how can you even ask that?" I stuttered, avoiding his piercing gaze. I needed to act tough or else I would be in big trouble.

I rose from the bed, putting on a show to make it seem like I was genuinely upset. "You've held me as your prisoner since I arrived here. Where could I possibly go? You have bodyguards stalking every corner of this house," I continued.

He left the window and began making his way towards me. Did he see the clothes? Panic set in as he drew closer.

"Mmm," he murmured. I wasn't sure what that meant, but it wasn't convincing enough that he believed me. I started to inch away from him, his intense gaze making me feel trapped.

When my back finally met the wall, he leaned in closer, his hand pressing against the wall just above my head. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest. What was he doing? Did he find out the truth or not? The proximity was suffocating, and I couldn't meet his penetrating gaze. I could feel his breath on my skin, and it sent shivers down my spine.

For a brief moment, I locked eyes with him once again and noticed a sly grin playing across his face. It wasn't an expression of amusement or joy, but rather a hint of something deeper. But what exactly was it? Before I could figure it out, he leaned back, distancing himself from me.

"Get ready, the stylists will be arriving any minute now. We have an event to attend at 8 pm," he said firmly, barely sparing me a glance. Then, he left the room before I could inquire about our destination.

A deep sigh escaped from my lips as the door closed behind him. "That was a close call," I quickly made my way to the window carefully untied the rope, and breathed a sigh of relief and the tension dissipated as I disposed of the rope.

"What event are we attending together? Why does he want me there?" I pondered, and my mind started racing with questions. Just then, I heard a faint knock at the door. I made my way over and opened it to find one of the maids, accompanied by two ladies with large suitcases.

"Hello, ma'am. These are the stylists," the maid announced as they entered the room.

"Good evening ma'am," the ladies chimed in sync, avoiding making eye contact with me. While others might have felt flattered by the show of respect, I felt nothing but resentment. If only they knew that I was a prisoner, not a wife.

They proceeded to fit me in various dresses that were wrapped in transparent covers. Eventually, I settled on a sleek black gown with a tasteful slit, adorned with shimmering embellishments. My makeup was expertly done, and my long hair was elegantly styled into sleek a bun adorned with delicate jewelry.

An hour later, the driver arrived outside, but I couldn't see Lawrence anywhere. "Where's Lawrence?" I asked the bodyguards as they opened the door for me.

"He has already left, ma'am. He will meet you at the venue," one of the bodyguards replied firmly. I hesitated for a moment, staring at him before getting into the car with nervousness bubbling inside me.

As our car pulled away and I sat in the backseat, my mind raced with anxiety, recalling all that had transpired in my first week of marriage to Lawrence. This would be our first public event as a couple and I couldn't shake off the nerves. After tonight, I would be known as the wife of the wealthiest man in Texan City, living every girl's dream. But for me, it was a nightmare that I desperately wanted to wake up from.

As we arrived at the venue, tension hung in the air. Through the tinted glass, I could see the red carpet and a large crowd of people gathered at the entrance of the hall.

When the door opened, I hesitated for a moment, glancing nervously at the crowd. Lawrence stood in front of me, looking dashing in his well-tailored suit, his arm extended for me to take. It was all a facade, but for the sake of this event, I had to play along.

Taking a deep breath, I linked my arm with his and we made our way to the entrance. Suddenly, the press erupted in confusion as the camera flashes went off, catching them off guard.

"Sir, can you please give us a moment?"

"Excuse me, is she your wife?"

"Can we have a statement, sir?"

The questions flew at us as we walked through the crowd, with the help of our bodyguards leading the way. My anxiety only grew as I shielded my face from the bright camera flashes.

As we continued walking, I felt Lawrence's grip on my hand tighten, as if he had noticed my discomfort. But why would he care? I thought he hated me. Lost in my thoughts, I gazed at him, trying to make sense of the situation as we made our way inside the hall, away from the crowd.

As soon as we entered, he withdrew his hand from mine without a second glance. Of course, it was all a show. He had to maintain appearances in public.

"Lawrence Harrington, the notorious business tycoon himself," a voice echoed from a distance. We turned to see two women and two men approaching us with big smiles plastered on their faces.

Lawrence grasped the hands of both men, while I awkwardly stood behind him, unsure of what to do other than conceal my uncomfortable smile. As the magnificent hall began to fill with people, my eyes wandered to distract myself.

"Wait here, I'll be back," Lawrence whispered, breaking me out of my thoughts. He left with the two men, and I shifted my gaze to the two women in front of me, who were glaring and whispering amongst themselves.

Feeling uneasy, I suspected they were gossiping about me. Scanning the room for a distraction, I spotted a waiter with glasses of wine and hastily called him over, taking a sip to calm my nerves while I waited for Lawrence.

"Ah, so you are married to Lawrence, are you?" one of the ladies broke the suffocating silence with a sly grin.

I smiled nervously, avoiding their intense gaze and unsure of how to respond. Taking another sip, I turned to where Lawrence was speaking with a group of men.

The women's voices rose behind me, hardly a whisper between them. "Don't you think it's a bit soon for marriage, considering what happened?" I heard one of them say.

My frustration grew as they danced around the same topic, the one thing no one wanted to openly discuss. I stood there, fighting the urge to demand answers, afraid of appearing irrational in front of these refined ladies.

"Tell us, dear, who are your parents?" they turned their attention to me once their hushed conversations had ended.

"Well, I know for sure that Lawrence wouldn't settle for someone from a low class," one of them commented with a chuckle.

My heart raced and my stomach churned, feeling decidedly unworthy in their company. I knew I was nothing more than a nobody, a worthless speck in comparison to the high society these ladies belonged to. Lawrence made sure to remind me of that every chance he got.

"Uh, well...Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie," I stuttered, praying for a quick end to this interrogation. I couldn't bear to indulge them any longer.

"Oh my!" they exclaimed. "Your father must be the owner of the Carnegie enterprise," one of them prodded, shock evident on their faces as they searched for confirmation.

"Um... No," I stumbled, glancing to the side to see if Lawrence was done talking. To my dismay, he was still occupied with the other men, and I felt increasingly uncomfortable with their probing questions.

"Then who?" their disappointment was palpable.

"Er, my father passed away...and my mother works as a...a..." I hesitated, my hand shaking as I tried to come up with a response.

Before I could complete my sentence I felt a sudden tug on my hand, pulling me in an instant.