THE PRICE OF US

CHAPTER THREE

Ralph leaned back in his chair with his fingers under his chin, watching Silvia shift uneasily in her seat. It was clear how desperate she was, her lips slightly parted as if she were looking for words, words that would conceal the fact that she needed him so much.

*One million dollars.*

It was impossible for her to raise such an amount of money to settle her mother's hospital bill. Had she other options, she wouldn't be sitting here in his office, staring at him as though he controlled her fate. So did he.

He laughed, the corner of his mouth lifting. No, he could say. While she frantically searched for another way to save her mother, he could ignore her. But it would be too easy.

No, denying her was not all Ralph desired. Something much better was what he desired. A dark, simmering memory stirred in his mind, and his jaw tensed slightly.

One evening, it had been late, the office was dimly lit, and the only sound in the room was the rustle of papers as Silvia walked around. She had been carefully cleaning his desk. Ralph had reclined in his chair and observed her, observing how her loose curls framed her face and how her lips slightly parted when she focused. She differed from the women he typically hosted. The women were aware of the game. They were aware of his desires and shared them: they wanted his wealth, his prestige, and the opportunity to wear his arm in public. But Silvia was different. She never wooed him or tried to get his attention.

She was polite yet distant, as though she was afraid of getting too close to him. And maybe she ought to have. He had been observing her for weeks, trying things out with casual comments, light physical contact, and long looks. She hadn't given him anything, though. Right up until that evening. “Silvia”. Her fingers gripped the rag tightly as she froze in the middle of wiping, then she turned with cautious eyes.

"Yes, sir?" Ralph grinned. "Are you still working so late?" She gave a nod. "Sir, it's my job."

He walked casually around the desk. He could see how tense her body was, as though she were getting ready for something, even though she remained motionless.

"You put in a lot of work," he thought quietly. "I respect that." Silvia remained silent.

His fingers touched her skin as he reached out and brushed a flyaway hair from her cheek. She winced. His smirk deepened at the slightest jerk of her head, not a dramatic one. He whispered, "You know you don't have to work so hard." "I could help you out." Her breath caught. "I don't understand what you mean, sir." Ralph laughed. "Oh, I believe you do." Her pulse was clearly fluttering at the base of her throat as she turned her head away. At last, her voice was hardly audible above a whisper, "I don't mix work with personal matters." His laughter waned. Private affairs. He was being turned away by her. His expression darkened as his fingers clenched a little around the hair and then released it. She went on, taking a step back, "With all due respect, sir, I am here to work, not to entertain your… offers." He observed her for a considerable amount of time, hoping that she would change her mind. If she were to retract it. She didn't.

The rejection was obvious. Inside him, something icy and perilous stirred. "No one turns me away, Silvia," he said in a soothing yet foreboding tone. Her hands twisted the rag nervously as she swallowed. "I—I ought to get my work done." She quickly went back to wiping the desk, her eyes downcast, and Ralph remained silent. He continued to observe her, though. She was gravely mistaken if she believed she could reject him and leave without repercussions.

Ralph blinked, the memory as vivid as though it had occurred yesterday. Silvia had rejected him at the time, but now, look at her—back in his office, requesting a favor. The irony was delicious. She would be unable to turn him down this time. He studied her, exhaling slowly and tapping his fingers on the desk. Her hands clasped in her lap as she sat rigidly. He saw how she bit her lips to hide her emotions and how her fingers trembled a little under the desk. She felt terrified. Well done. Vulnerability was associated with fear.

Moreover, control entailed vulnerability. He took the contract that his PA had prepared out of his desk drawer.

"Marry me, Silvia.”

Her eyes grew wide as she almost choked on her breath. "Sir, I—I don't understand." Ralph placed the contract between them on the desk and leaned forward. He said plainly, "You need money." "I need a wife."

Silvia gazed at the paper as though it were a coiling snake about to bite. "I—" She paused. Ralph watched as she battled with different emotions: shock, confusion, and fear. At last, she muttered, "I don't—why?" Ralph grinned. "Silvia, you are not qualified to ask questions." Her fingers twitched as she swallowed. "I simply... Why you would want to marry me is beyond me.

Ralph c****d his head. "Is it important?" He could tell by her silence that it did. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Let's just say... Refusal bothers me.

Her eyes glowed with understanding. With horror in her voice, she muttered, "You're punishing me." Ralph grinned. "Call it whatever you want," he said with ease. "But you'll sign the contract if you want your mother to survive."

Silvia had unshed tears burning in her eyes. He could see the struggle going on inside of her, the horror of what he was asking, and the desperate desire to save her mother. She would shatter, Ralph knew. There was nothing she could do. And when he got what he wanted this time... She couldn't refuse.