Bound to The Cole Heir: Trapped in their Revenge

Mia's POV I barely have enough energy to make it home. My feet are throbbing with every step, and the strap of my bag digs into my shoulder like it's trying to add to the list of things hurting today. Ten hours on my feet, a manager who thought yelling counted as leadership, and a headache that had settled behind my eyes around noon and never left. All I want right now is to get into my room, take a very hot shower, and disappear till my alarm does its thing again. A dog barked somewhere down the street, interrupting my thoughts. The porch light two houses flickered on and off, the way it always did. Nothing about the street felt different. Somehow I was already at my house. As I climbed the porch steps, I heard voices coming from inside. My stepmother's, sharp and clipped the way it got when she wanted to sound important, and a second voice I didn't know. Low, flat, unhurried. I froze with my hand an inch from the door, some old instinct telling me not to walk in just yet. "Have the driver here by seven a.m.," my stepmother said, each word slow, as though she'd practiced it. "She doesn't have the luxury of being difficult." My heart dropped into my stomach. I leaned in again to eavesdrop, but just as I inched forward, the door swung open, and I hit my leg against the threshold and fell face-flat to the ground. Perfect! Just perfect. So much for going unnoticed. I tried to get up gracefully. Unfortunately, grace and I weren't on speaking terms. Barely had I tried to steady myself when my gaze caught a black leather shoe planted just beside my hand, not moving an inch. Instinctively, I looked up slowly, and my eyes met the gaze of an impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders made the doorway look smaller than it was. His blond hair was neatly styled. He didn't reach down. He didn't step back. He just stood there and watched me try to get up, and I felt my face go hot, humiliated that he wasn't even bothering to move out of the way. His suit looked like it cost more than everything in my room. He looked at me without expression, and my throat tightened under it. I stayed frozen there a second too long, half-waiting for him to at least step aside or even help me up. He didn't look like a gentleman anyway. "Move." The word came out cold and final. It yanked me out of my daze, and I scrambled back onto my feet, leaning against the doorframe to give him room. My cheeks burned, and my heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it. There was something about him that made my skin crawl. I couldn't tell if it was fear or something else. Before my stepmother could utter a word, he'd already strode past her, two men falling into step behind him, and within a minute a line of black cars pulled away from the curb, gone before I'd fully caught my breath. I watched until they were out of sight completely. My hands hadn't stopped shaking since the fall, and I couldn't tell anymore whether that was from hitting the floor or from him. Men who showed up with three black cars and bodyguards usually didn't have anything good to say. I turned to my stepmother. Her expression hadn't moved an inch. She wasn't surprised. Once she noticed that my gaze was now fixed on her, she smiled at me, one that barely reached her eyes. "Mia, come on. Will you?" she said, slowly, unhinged. I walked toward her, my hair disheveled, my fists clenched at my sides, my eyes locked on hers because I refused to be the first one to look away. "Who was that man? Why were you talking about me leaving tomorrow?" "Mia, sit down." Her voice stayed level, untouched, as if nothing about this moment required urgency from her. My jaw tightened. My patience finally ran out, and I screamed at her before I could stop myself. The slap landed before I even saw her hand move. My head snapped sideways, my hair falling forward to curtain my face, and for a second the whole room went white and ringing. My cheek burned. She actually hit me. I pressed my palm to my face, too stunned to do anything else. "Now sit," she said, her voice dropping lower, colder. I sank into the chair because my legs gave me no other choice, my eyes dropping to my bare knees as they blurred, tears sliding down cheeks that were already burning. "You'll find out tomorrow." She turned back to the hallway mirror to fix her earring, unbothered, like we'd been discussing something as small as the weather. "It's already decided." "Decided by who?" My voice cracked no matter how hard I fought to hold it steady. "You can't just... I have a job, I have a life, you can't send me off somewhere without..." "Without what?" She snapped, turning to face me fully now. Her calm was worse than shouting would have been. "Without your permission? Since when has anything in this house required your permission? You've been a guest here for years, Mia. Eating food you didn't pay for. Sleeping under a roof you didn't earn. Be grateful someone finally wants you for something." "A roof I didn't earn?" I snapped back "You're marrying Kael Cole. And that's final." Nobody spoke. I could hear my own heartbeat in the silence, too loud, like the room itself was waiting to see what I'd do. "Why?" A hysterical laugh tore out of me before I could stop it. One minute, I lived my simple life and the other, I was married off to some cold stranger. Mario was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking far too entertained for someone who'd just watched me get slapped. "Don't get flattered, Mia." His mouth curled, amused, like my pain was the evening's entertainment. "You'll probably be useless to him too.”