Chapter 7: The Coldness of Morning: The Contractual Commodity
606 Words
When I woke up, I was alone on the massive bed.
The silver-gray silk sheets were tangled messily. The air still held the scent of last night's blend of passion and
humiliation, but above it lay a suffocating, complete emptiness.
Damon Vance was gone. No farewell, no note, not even a trace of lingering human warmth. It was as if everything
that had happened was merely a quickly checked item on his schedule.
I dragged my aching body up, finding a black velvet box on the nightstand.
My heart sank. I didn't want to open it, but I knew I had to face it.
The box contained an unmarked bank card and a neatly folded note.
The handwriting was stern and powerful, exactly like the man himself.
[The funds in the card are sufficient to cover the first phase of the Chen family's restructuring costs. The PIN
is your birthday. From today, all your expenses will be borne by the Vance Group. You are not permitted to
refuse.
At ten this morning, the butler will take you for a physical examination. No mistakes are allowed.
Honor the contract, Aria. Two years.
— D.V.]
I clutched the note, my fingers tightening until they nearly shredded it. These words were more hurtful than any
kiss last night. They starkly reminded me that I was not a conquered woman; I was a purchased commodity, and
this transaction was proceeding efficiently and precisely.
He hadn't even delivered the message in person.
I threw the bank card back into the box and smiled coldly. Damon Vance, you branded me with money, but I will
never be crushed by your coldness.
Exactly ten o'clock, I was showered and dressed in a tailored black suit that had been prepared for me in the manor.
The clothes were new and fit perfectly, clearly pre-arranged.
The pale-faced butler appeared punctually at the door. Like a speaking machine, his voice was still devoid of
inflection.
"Miss Aria. Mr. Vance has arranged a new schedule for you."
He handed me a meticulously printed schedule. It was extremely detailed, listing everything from my morning
health meal to afternoon etiquette and deportment lessons, and ending with "accompanying Mr. Vance as may be
required in the evening," all timed precisely to the minute.
"For the next two years, you will be the 'Lady Vance' of the Vance Group," the butler paused, his tone containing a
subtle emphasis that only I could understand. "At least, when Mr. Vance requires your public appearance."
He led me to a separate medical wing, detached from the side building. The doctors and nurses there were all
dressed in white, expressionless, as if preparing for a critical military operation.
The examination was lengthy and rigorous. Blood drawing, genetic analysis, health assessment, even my allergy
history and psychological state were recorded in detail. A chill ran through me when I realized this was preparation
for childbearing.
I couldn't run. I had no choice.
But when the doctor asked if I had any hidden illnesses, I calmly shook my head.
"Perfectly healthy," I stated calmly, a fierce fire burning in my eyes.
The contract had begun. My body had been claimed by him, but I would absolutely not allow my soul to be
enslaved.
Damon Vance, you think you've acquired a commodity. But what you've acquired is a woman driven to
desperation, ready to bite back in your game of power.
I need time. I need opportunity. While playing the role of "Lady Vance," I will uncover the secrets of your
commercial empire, find your weaknesses, and then use the rules you taught me to defeat you.
- Writer
