The True Price
1296 Words
Lucian motioned to her “Do you care to join me?”
“You can take the bed,” she offered stiffly. “I’ll take the couch.”
“The bed is large enough for the two of us,” he pointed out.
“You’re only my husband on paper, other than that you’re a stranger to me, I don’t share beds with strangers, so I will just take the couch.”
Lucian shook his head. “No.That’s not necessary. It’s our bed but if you won’t share it with me. I’ll take the couch.”
“I’ve slept on worse,” she insisted.
“Tamia,” he said, using her name for the first time that day. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Thanks, if you insist,” she told him.
“On a second thought,”reaching forward to lean one of his hands on the wall next to her. “ Do we have to resort to that?”
Tamia breathed, her lungs were felt like it was losing air at the sudden closeness
She didn’t argue after that. She climbed into the bed, pulled the covers to her chin, and turned her back to him.
A few minutes later, she heard the creak of the living room couch and the click of the lamp switch.
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy.
The next morning Tamia woke to the smell of coffee, the quiet hum of a machine was coming from the kitchen, and the faint scrape of a chair.
She rolled over, remembering the vow she made to herself no reliance on him, not even for the basics before stepping out of the bed.
When she padded into the kitchen, barefoot and trying to gather herself, Lucian was already there, sleeves rolled up, pouring himself a mug.
He didn’t look up as he asked, “Do you care for one? You take sugar?”
Tamia froze. “What?”
“Coffee,” he said, finally glancing at her. “Sugar?”
“No,” she answered after a pause. “Black.”
He poured a second mug, slid it across the counter, and returned to his own. Not a word more.
Tamia sat across from Lucian at the narrow kitchen table, watching him butter a piece of toast with the precision of a surgeon.
Neither of them had spoken much since last night’s tense exchange. The silence between them had grown into something taut, humming with all the words left unsaid.
Finally, Lucian broke it. “I’ll be in town today. Business meetings. Might be late.”
Tamia nodded, trying not to show relief at the thought of a few hours alone.
“You’ll be fine here?” he asked, eyes flicking up briefly.
“I’m not porcelain,” she said, sipping her coffee.
He gave a short, humorless laugh, then stood, gathering his keys.
“Lock the doors. Don’t answer to anyone you don’t know.” And with that, he was gone.
The moment the car tires crunched against the gravel and faded down the road, Tamia’s chest loosened. But the reprieve was short-lived. Her thoughts immediately turned to her father.
She couldn’t sit here, trapped in this house, while his life ticked away in a sterile hospital bed.
She grabbed her coat and left.
The hospital was the same as always too white, too cold, smelling faintly of antiseptic and despair.
Tamia hurried down the hall toward her father’s room. When she entered, the sight of him struck her like a blade.
He lay pale and still, his breath shallow, his skin waxy. His eyes fluttered open weakly when she touched his hand.
“Tamia,” he rasped, trying for a smile.
Her throat tightened. “Papa, don’t talk. Just rest.”
But her eyes darted to the IV stand. Empty. No new medication bags. No machines humming. Nothing had changed since her arraignment with the Thorne Family.
Her pulse raced.
She stormed out of the room and demanded to speak to the attending physician. The doctor tried to calm her down explained:
“Mr. Raynold’s treatment has been delayed. We haven't received any deposit like you said we would. The funds… have not been released yet, so we can't proceed with the required treatment.”
Tamia’s world tilted.
“But the contract..”
The doctor looked at her with pity and said, “Until payments clear, our hands are tied.”
She left the hospital with tears in her eyes. She didn't just understand what was going on, “why would Federick go back on his end of the bargain.”
Frederick Thorne’s office was as cold and immovable as the man himself.
He didn’t look surprised when she burst in, eyes blazing. In fact, he looked mildly amused, leaning back in his leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin.
“Mrs. Thorne,” he greeted smoothly. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Her fists clenched. “Don’t play games with me. My father’s treatment hasn’t even started.”
“Ah,” Frederick said, tilting his head. “So you’ve been doing your rounds.”
“You promised,” she spat. “You promised if I signed that contract, you’d help him. That was the deal!”
Frederick rose slowly from his chair, circling her like a predator with cornered prey.
“And I will,” he said. “But you must understand, my dear… a contract is only as binding as the fulfillment of all conditions.”
Tamia’s breath hitched. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes glinted. “Your marriage is just the first step. My legacy requires… heirs.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You mean…”
“Yes.” He smiled, cruel and deliberate. “You will bear a Thorne child. Only then will I release the funds for your father’s treatment.”
Tamia staggered back, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”
Frederick’s smile never faltered. “Insane? No. Practical. Why should I waste millions on a man whose family line ends in ruin? No… this way, you ensure your father’s sacrifice is not in vain. His suffering purchases your future. Your children’s future.”
Her voice cracked with fury. “Children? With your son? A man who doesn’t even want me?”
Frederick’s tone hardened. “Whether he wants you or not is irrelevant. You will do your duty. Why don't you start by getting pregnant Or your father will die gasping in that hospital bed while your sister is sent into foster care. Choices, Tamia. We all must make them.”
Her hands trembled. “This is blackmail.”
“This is business,” Frederick corrected, stepping closer. His cologne was suffocating. “You agreed to marry into this family. Now you must prove useful to it.”
Tamia wanted to scream, to claw the smug expression off his face. Instead, she forced her chin high, masking the terror thrumming in her veins.
“I won’t be your breeding mare,” she hissed.
Frederick’s gaze was ice. “Then your father won’t see another sunrise.”
Tamia fled his office, her legs barely carrying her down the hall. She burst into the cold air outside, pressing her hand against her stomach as bile surged.
Pregnant.
Even if that was to happen, how fast was he expecting, her father didn't have all the time..
She stumbled into a taxi, mind spinning.
Lucian didn’t know. Or maybe he did. Maybe this had always been part of the plan.
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she swallowed them down. She couldn’t break. Not now.
Her father’s life was a ticking clock. Her sister’s safety was a fragile thread.
And Frederick Thorne had placed the scissors in her hands.
- Writer
