A Deal
1252 Words
Ava's POV
I opened my eyes to a throbbing headache, my mind foggy. But as memories flooded in, my foggy mind cleared, replaced by shock and dismay.
The conversation with the enigmatic stranger. The way I'd called him out for being rude and mean, yet handsome. The way I'd blabbed about my life in my intoxicated moment, offering to marry him to spite my brother and claim my grandfather's inheritance.
Mortification washed over me. How could I have been so reckless?
And the kiss… Oh God, the kiss.
My face burned with embarrassment as I recalled the silence that followed, his unreadable expression.
As my vision cleared, I took in the elegantly decorated room – cream-colored walls, dark wood furniture, and a large window letting in warm, golden light. But where was I? Panic set in, and I scrambled out of bed, my heart racing.
Fear gripped me – what if I was trapped? My legs wobbled beneath me as I approached the door. What if it was locked? With trembling hands, I twisted the doorknob and yanked the door open.
A masculine figure stood before me, his whiskey-colored eyes and dark brown hair a striking combination. “The boss is waiting for you,” he said, his gaze scanning me.
My breath caught. Who was his boss? Probably my contractual husband. The thought sent a chill down my spine.
How did I end up here? What had I done?
I followed him through the grand hallway, adorned with paintings that usually brought me solace. But today, they only worsened my nausea.
What did he want from me? Why did he agree to the contract marriage? The questions swirled in my mind as I trailed behind him, my heart heavy with dread.
I forced myself to ask, “W-where are you taking me? Where am I?” but received no reply.
As we entered the dining room, my heart skipped a beat. A man sat at the table, his presence commanding attention. His all-black attire, chiseled features, and piercing gray eyes exuding power and control, left me breathless.
Gunmetal eyes! Those eyes were familiar.
My eyes widened, my jaw almost dropped, and my stomach flipped. Fear gripped me, making my skin crawl.
He gestured to the seat across from him, his movements precise. I approached, my heart racing with fear and trepidation.
“Welcome,” he said, his deep voice was firm and also cold– just like last night. “I trust you're feeling better after you...rest.”
I gulped, his voice stirring memories. “Wh-what do you want from me?” I whispered.
“Nothing,” he replied.
I gulped again, feeling trapped. “Then why am I here?”
His gaze locked onto mine, sending shivers down my spine. “Because you're my wife.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge. “Your wife?” I repeated, my voice barely audible.
He nodded, his expression unreadable. A chill ran down my spine. Married? To him?
“How is that possible?” I stammered.
His dark brows creased. “Your brother is indebted to me. He used you as payment.”
The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. My step-brother sold me? To this stranger?
My eyes locked onto his, searching for answers. But his gaze remained steady, unyielding. A mix of emotions swirled within me — fear, anger, and desperation.
“I-I don't understand?” I whispered, my gaze dropping as I struggled to comprehend the absurdity of the situation.
Desperation sparked within me, and I pleaded, “Can't you make me your maid? I'll work hard and pay back what he owes you.” My voice trembled with fear.
He remained silent, his eyes void of emotion. The silence grew oppressive, suffocating me.
“Baby girl, if I wanted a maid, I could easily get one,” he said finally, his voice low and menacing. “The only thing I need is a wife.”
My hope dissipated, replaced by dread. Fear gripped my heart.
“Martin, give her the contract,” he ordered.
The contract landed in front of me, its words blurring together. My eyes scanned the pages, horror mounting.
“You're not allowed to be seen in public with another man,” he disclosed, his voice dripping with possession. “You can only be seen in public with me, and you'll perform all your wifely duties.”
My mind reeled. Marriage? To this stranger?
Memories from last night flooded back – the drunken haze, his lips on mine, his touch. Shame and anger swirled within me. He took advantage of me.
A dark look flickered in his eyes as he tilted his head. “Careful with your thoughts, Ondina.” Little wave.
I flinched, startled by the nickname. “You took advantage of me!” I snapped, outrage boiling over.
His nonchalant demeanor infuriated me. How could he be so calm?
“Last night was consensual, Ava,” he said.
Consensual? Was he joking? I'd been drunk. My anger faltered, replaced by fear. What had I done? “You're mine now,” he stated. His words echoed in my mind, trapping me. The creaking seat snapped me back to reality as he stood up, his expression unreadable.
“You instigated it,” he said flatly, fueling my anger.
“I was drunk!” I spat, teeth gritted. “You took advantage of me!”
He shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating. “Your drink was spiked, and you woke up in heat.”
Arrogant jerk! I seethed, my nerves fraying. “Of course, they spiked my drink,” I muttered, regret washing over me.
His eyes locked onto mine, gleaming with amusement. “I knew your drink was spiked. That's why I didn't push further.”
I blinked in surprise. If he didn't, then how come…
He strode towards me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He probably knew what I was thinking. “There are other ways to go about it. If I hadn't, then worse could've happened which might have resulted in you losing your life. Besides, you were the one who called out to me to save you,” he pointed out as he moved closer, making my memories of him last night clearer.
My stomach churned with the thought of dying last night. Should I really be grateful to him? Did he come to my rescue because he knew I was his contractual wife or was it purely coincidental?
But nothing about yesterday was coincidental. A wave of doubt washed over me. Had he taken advantage of me further?
But as I recalled the events, relief flickered within. He hadn't. Yet, the fear lingered. His eyes seemed to hold secrets. He strode closer, and his presence was suffocating.
Suddenly, last night's events flashed back – the bar, the spiked drink, and him. He was the one who killed the men. My heart skipped a beat. “You killed that man,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.
His eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. “You're safe now,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.
But I didn't feel safe. Fear gripped me, my mind racing. What kind of person kills someone in cold blood? And now, I was bound to him.
“About last night's offer…" he whispered, his breath caressing my ear. His brow arched, questioning. “Still available?”
His eyes pierced mine, searching for an answer before he spoke again. "Because it's a deal.”
- Writer
