Sold To Mr. Billionaire

Chapter 2

All eyes were trained on me. I gulped and proceeded. “I'll be yours. Please don't ruin my father.”

“I'll do as you please,” I finished, my voice barely a whisper.

Mr. Price signaled for the men to stop. They obeyed immediately and released my father.

“No don’t do this,” Father begged, guilt dripping from his words.

“Oh, shut up!” Mr. Price barked at him.

“It looks like there’s at least one sensible person in the family.” He sauntered over to where I stood and took me with him.

“Sebastian get Mr. Stevens and his wife out of here. They are never to step foot into the Price mansion ever again. Their daughter has just paid for their freedom,” He commanded, taking me away from the living area.

I turned to see them just once before they left. The pure looks of melancholy they wore on their faces would haunt me forever. Their eyes housed sorrow and their lips whimpered as they watched their only daughter get sacrificed for a crime they had no hand in.

Right there and then, I swore to find whoever poisoned Mr. Price's grandfather and have them pay heavily for this.

I found myself in Mr. Price's master bedroom after he had sent my parents packing. To say that my mind had become a labyrinth of questions for which there were no answers was an understatement.

On getting to his room, he first let out a wild scream and went about destroying everything. What a warm welcome, I thought.

I hid in a corner of the room to avoid any harm. I was terrified but I couldn't cry for help. I couldn't scream or even beg. The only thing I could do was silently watch and pray for all of this to be over soon.

Loud sounds of things being thrown on the ground reverberated through the room. Objects were violently broken. Lamps were broken, vases shattered, paintings strewn across the floor and cushions ripped open. In the middle of it all stood Mr. Price, looking murderous, and when his eyes found me, his rage, if it was possible, increased tenfold.

“I hate you,” he screamed.

“I hate you, I hate your stupid father and I hate myself for getting myself into this mess.” His voice broke at the last part. He just stared at the floor and clenched his fist, contemplating his next move.

Funny enough, his words didn't make me feel sad or angry. They confused me only further. If he hated me so much, then why claim me? Why take me as his?

“Sir, I-”

He left the room before I could even finish my sentence.

Looking at the door he shut behind him, I released a sigh. This was my new life.

I decided to clean up the mess that Mr. Price had made in his absence. I picked up the broken glasses and tried to dispose of them as carefully as I could. With a dustpan in hand, I began to sweep as it was the only thing I could do to distract myself from the mess that was my life.

“Come with me.” The gruesome voice of a man interrupted my cleaning. It was one of Mr. Price's bodyguards. I immediately left my cleaning materials and left with his as he had commanded.

He led me to a sleek black sports car where I met Mr. Price again. This time he didn't look like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum, a young man scared for his grandfather’s life, or a murderous man hungry for blood, instead he looked calm. He had this calculated look in his eyes and it made me anxious.

He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes going from my head to my toes. It felt like it was an examination and I was failing. His stare was intense and I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Mr. Price cleared his throat. “This will do now get in”

A menacing silence covered us. It was unbearable. The words at the tip of my tongue threatened to spill forward. My hands suddenly became clammy and I rubbed them repeatedly in a frenzy.

“Speak, if you want to,” Mr. Price uttered. He must have noticed how anxious I must have been.

“Where are we going?” I choked.

“To get married.”

My eyes watered and I held my chest in shock. I had always dreamed of my wedding day. I imagined it to be a day when I was truly happy. One where my mother would get me ready and my father would walk me down the aisle where he'd hand me over to the love of my life, not an executioner.

Tears streamed down my cheeks in succession. I was supposed to wear the perfect wedding dress, not a worn-out house gown handed down to me by my mother. This was not what I spent twenty-two years of my life dreaming of.

“Stop crying,” he growled.

“How do you not expect me to cry? This has very well been the worst day of my life,” I spat, not caring about the trouble I could get into for talking back.

“The worst day of your life,” he laughed.

“No, this is the worst day of my life. You didn't get a call from work saying that your grandfather, who happens to be the only family you have left, has been poisoned!”

“You didn't have your grandfather tell you that he had to get married and provide an heir before he's thirty just so he can keep his inheritance immediately after he wakes up from a literal death nap,” He shot back, this time staring directly at me.

“So in all my twenty-nine years on this earth, I bet you this has to be the worst day ever. Now, thank your stars that you get to be the wife of Mr. Price regardless of the filthy blood in your veins,” He finished.

I brushed away the tears on my cheeks and tried to sob a little quieter. “Yes Sir, thank you,” I whispered.

We arrived at the courthouse and got off from the car. I had regained my composure after our brief conversation but the sight before broke my heart into pieces all over again.

“Jocelyn, forgive me,” The man in front of me begged with his hands locked up in silver metallic handcuffs.