His Mistress, His Bride

CH 3 Signed away

The living room was far too large. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one wall, city lights bleeding through rain-streaked glass. Silver droplets slid down the panes in slow, crooked trails.

There were no curtains. White marble gleamed beneath Arianna's feet, polished until it reflected the chandelier overhead. The cold seeped through her socks and settled deep in her bones.

Black leather sofas sat untouched, without cushions or blankets, as though they had been chosen to impress rather than comfort. A single slab of black stone served as the coffee table, its edges sharp enough to look dangerous.

A painting covered the far wall. Crimson and black bled into one another like fresh wounds. It had no title. No frame. It simply watched.

There were no books. No flowers. No signs that anyone actually lived here.

The air carried the scent of expensive cologne, fresh lemon polish, and dark cedar wood. Above them, a crystal chandelier cast fractured light across the silent room.

Her father sat rigidly on the sofa, sweat darkening the collar of his shirt. Ryan remained standing beside the window, his black mask still hiding the upper half of his face.

Leonel stepped forward and placed the first folder on the table.

Debt Settlement.

Her father's lawyer tapped the signature line. "Right here, Mr. Rousell." The scratch of the pen echoed through the room. Her father didn't hesitate. Not for a second.

He signed.

Then he slid the papers across the stone table until they stopped in front of Arianna. She stared at them.

"Sign." His voice sounded tired. Not guilty, just tired.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen. The ink dragged across the paper. Lee Arianna.

Her father let out a long breath, as though a crushing weight had finally lifted from his shoulders.

Like he had sold a house. Not his daughter. He rose to his feet, bowed politely to everyone in the room, and walked away without looking back.

Arianna watched the door close behind him with a quiet click.

Not once...did he turn around.

Leonel pushed another folder toward her. Mistress Agreement.

Her throat tightened. Her hand shook harder this time. Still...she signed.

Ryan finally moved. His gaze never settled on the contract. It stayed on her. On the tears she refused to wipe away. On the way her arms folded tightly across herself, as though trying to hold the broken pieces together.

He picked up the pen. One smooth stroke with his name. Han Ryan.

He slid the agreement back towards her. "Read it."

Her eyes scanned the page.

Term: Indefinite.

Residence: Mandatory.

Outside Contact: By Permission Only.

A tear landed on the paper, smearing the ink beneath it.

She curled her fingers into the sleeve of her dress until the fabric wrinkled beneath her grip.

It was legal. Signed and witnessed. She belonged to him now.

His mistress.

"Show her to her room, Tanya." Ryan's voice was calm. He turned without another glance and walked upstairs. Each step echoed through the mansion long after he disappeared.

"This way, Arianna." Tanya's voice was gentle.

Arianna didn't answer immediately. She simply stood there, staring at the signature that had stolen her future.

"...Arianna?"

She blinked. Then quietly followed Tanya upstairs. The third floor felt just as cold as the first. One wall was nothing but glass overlooking the rain-soaked city. The other displayed dark, surreal paintings that somehow made the hallway feel even lonelier.

Tanya stopped before a bedroom and pushed the door open. The room was enormous. Everything was white. White walls. White curtains.

White silk sheets spread neatly across a king-sized bed that looked untouched. It didn't feel like a bedroom. It felt like a showroom.

A neatly folded black shirt rested in the center of the bed.

"Wear this," Tanya said softly. "We'll prepare new clothes for you tomorrow. The bathroom is through that door."

Arianna only nodded.

"I'll bring your dinner soon." The door closed behind Tanya.

Silence settled over the room. Arianna remained standing in the middle of it, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to spill again.

Somewhere farther down the hallway...a door closed. Ryan's room.

He wasn't coming. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped her lungs. Relief.

As she lowered her arms, her sleeve slipped back. Purple veins crawled beneath her pale skin like ink spreading through water. Her breath caught. She hurriedly pulled the sleeve down, hiding them once more.