She was here. Real. Flesh and blood.
I never imagined the first time I'd see her again would be like this. Standing in front of me, like she had no idea what was coming. She was still as beautiful as I remembered, but now... now she was mine. She just didn't know it yet.
I thought I had imagined this moment—dreamt of it too many times to count. But here she was. Her eyes were just as... unsettling.
How could I have ever been prepared for this?
Was this really happening? Was I awake? I couldn't be. But I knew I wasn't dreaming. I knew this was the moment I had been waiting for, whether she wanted it or not.
She was different now—older, more polished. but I wasn't fooled. She was still the same. Still the one I wanted. Still the one I craved. That fire, that defiance—it was still there, flickering behind her eyes. It drew me in. It was strange how quickly everything shifted when we were in the same room. I've been planning for this moment, but now that it was here, it feels both surreal and like destiny.
The destiny I had made. For both of us.
"There has to be another way, That's not happening." Her eyes blazed with fierce defiance, every word laced with that sharp British accent that somehow made her anger sound elegant.
She seemed to have lost sight of the reality that I was the one offering them a chance they desperately needed. I was the one extending a hand, risking my comfort for their benefit. I mean that was what she was supposed to believe.
The plan was for her to believe the media's portrayal of me as heartless and a loner was a 'frustrating' public image issue, and that a temporary partner would be a publicity boost – hence the contract marriage offer. But the truth was, I didn't give a damn about the media's opinion. All that mattered was her. She was the only thing that had ever truly mattered to me. But she didn't need to know that... yet.
Let her believe it's all about appearances—media pressure, image rehab. It's cleaner that way. Simpler. Because if she knew how deep this obsession ran, she might run—and I'm not ready to let her go. Publicity? Press? I couldn't care less. She was the one thing I wanted to own—not for the cameras, not for the headlines. For me. Only me. I just wanted her close. Close enough to touch. Close enough to keep. And if I had to lie through my teeth for it to happen, so be it.
So that led me to her father. A fortunate coincidence, really—he'd borrowed money from me and was now conveniently dodging repayment. It was infuriating, considering I'd earned that money through blood, sweat, and sacrifice. But for her, I was willing to resist the urge to rip his head clean off.
"Of course, there's another way," I smirked at Aria, amused by the hope in her eyes.
Christ, She looked so innocent. What type of treasure had Andrew been hiding in his house?
As she gazed up at me with wide, hopeful eyes, sweat beaded on her forehead and her baby hairs clung to her flawless skin, dampened by her anxiety. I could feel my dick twitching. Her expression was a mix of vulnerability and desperation as if she was counting on me to offer a way out.
Aww, cute. Really cute.
I let out a low, mocking laugh, because, someone had to burst that hopeful bubble. She didn't want to play by the rules. Fine. But I'm not the type to walk away once I've invested in something—someone. But I'd pretend to.
"Tell the movers to hurry up; they have 30 minutes." I turned to walk away, issuing orders to my assistant, but her hand on my wrist made me pause, made me question everything for a split second. The last thing I expected. Her touch was a reminder of everything I had been waiting for.
"Wait!" She told me.
She was desperate. I could feel it in the way she held on. The way her fingers curled around my wrist, like she was holding on to something she wasn't willing to let go of.
The desperation in her touch was almost... seductive. And damn it, it wasn't supposed to be that way. This was supposed to be under my control. But I couldn't ignore the pull she had over me, the way her touch sent a shock straight to my chest. I couldn't walk away. Not yet. Not with her this close.
She let go too soon then she looked away, flustered, like touching me had been some kind of mistake. If only she knew I'd been aching for that contact since the moment I saw her. I wanted to grab her hand, press it back to my skin, and tell her—don't pull away. Not from me.
I already felt the ghost of her touch lingering. God, what I would do for her to reach for me again—willingly. I hated how much I craved it. How much I craved her.
Her cowardly father stood by watching in silence, unable to speak. Talk about pathetic.
The audacity to spend all my 6 billion dollars plus 500 million interest on illegal schemes. I mean, if you wanna run illegal shit, do it with your own goddamn money, not mine. Not my company's money.
"Dad, do something!" She panicked, her voice practically trembling. "Are you just going to stand there?"
She looked fragile, like she could shatter if you touched her the wrong way. But I wasn't deceived by that. There was strength in her—something raw, untapped. She didn't even realize it yet. But I saw it. I always saw it. Even if she looked like she was on the verge of breaking down.
"How long will this contract last? How long will she be with you?" Andrew ignored her, his eyebrows shooting up at me instead.
Some fathers would do anything for their children, while others would sell them out. He, it seemed, fell squarely into the latter category. He was selling his daughter. What a greedy bastard. He should have been begging me to end his life rather than let her go to a stranger. I mean, who in their right mind would hand over their daughter like that?
It was stupid of Andrew. I'd never fully trusted him, but our business partnership had seemed solid enough. He knew the risks of borrowing from me, he knew if he didn't pay back in time like he had promised there would be consequences. I remembered the day he walked into my office two years ago, begging for a loan from the company. He initially borrowed 4 billion, then returned six months later, requesting an additional 2 billion.
I'd had my doubts about how he was going to repay, but a part of me had hoped he'd prove me wrong. Now, with him in default, I was left to collect my money in a more... unconventional way.
I should've felt sorry for her. Maybe even disgusted with myself for forcing her into the damn contract. But all I felt was relief. Relief that the universe handed her to me on a silver platter wrapped in chaos. Her pain should've mattered more to me. But all I could focus on was that she was finally going to be mine.
Our love story wasn't supposed to happen like this. But I wasn't complaining. If her father being an asshole was the price, then so be it. She'd end up with me, where she belonged. Maybe I was a monster for feeling this way, but If life had been kinder to her, she never would've looked twice in my direction. But now, fate had tied her to me. Permanently. And I intended to keep it that way.
"If you can pay me back within a reasonable timeframe… she'll be returned to you, unharmed," I explained smoothly, watching Andrew squirm. The fact that he was cooperating almost made me smile—but I held it back. Just barely.
"She'll sign it," he nodded desperately.
Her face twisted in horror. "What do you mean?" She whispered, her eyes screaming louder than her words. She looked so breakable, and yet she stood her ground like she was made of steel. How could someone be both fire and feather?
He reached out to her. " just listen—"
But her anger boiled over, cutting him off. "No, I won't stand here and let you do this to me!"
There it was. That fire. That defiance. I had seen a lot of women, but none like her. She didn't try to please. She didn't need to. There was something about the way she didn't bend to anyone. It made her... interesting. It made her dangerous.
She was the kind of woman who could utterly destroy me— and I'd savor every second of the downfall. She was a risk, and I didn't take risks. But I would make an exception. For her. For us.
"Aria, I'll fix this, I promise. I'll pay him back—"
Her laughter was laced with tears and her voice cracked. "You'll fix it? You'll fix it?"
"I'm your father—just listen to me—"
"Just-j-j-ust, can you even hear yourself?, you know what, I can't, I just can't with you right now" She spun on her heel, storming out of the room as tears streamed down her face.
Let her run. Let her try. But there isn't a place on this earth she could hide where I wouldn't find her. She could change her name, her face, her identity—but she'd still be mine. And I'd carve that into the fucking stars if I had to.
Running from me wasn't an escape. If she thought leaving would free her, she clearly didn't understand me at all. Chains don't always look like metal. Sometimes they look like devotion. And mine? Mine were permanent.
I built a world with her at the center. And if she tried to leave it, I wouldn't hesitate to burn it all down—just to rebuild it again with her locked inside.
Safe.
Controlled.
Mine.
"I'll find a way to pay you back" Andrew said, his eyes locked on mine. I could have crushed him a year ago. But where's the thrill in that?
Desperation made people hand over their most valuable assets willingly.
I strolled around the room, taking in the empty spaces where Aria's belongings once were. The plush carpet softened my steps as I moved through the room, and the faint scent of vanilla and dust clung to the air.
Vanilla. I could breathe it in forever. Her scent was stitched into my bloodstream, driving me to the brink of sanity. It wasn't just the vanilla—it was her. She didn't even have to be in the room to unravel me. One trace of her scent, and I was spiraling. Wanting. Needing.
The glass-fronted wardrobe was emptied a while ago, Her bed was stripped down to its pink upholstered headboard. Two movers perched on a ladder, carefully dismantling the chandelier and its crystals.
Andrew glared "You didn't have to raid my house like this,"
I smirked, "You should have thought of that before you defaulted on our agreement."
I walked over to the shelf, running my fingers over the framed photos and my eyes lingering on the images of baby Aria. What an angel.
"Adorable baby, don't you think?" I taunted, waving one of the frames at him with a sardonic smile.
"I've always been a man of my word. I would have repaid you, with interest." He said.
"With what, exactly? The million dollars in your account?" A dry chuckle escaped my lips as I stared at more pictures of my future wife.
"You're bankrupt." I threw the frame into the nearest box and then slipped my hands back into my pockets. "It's either I take everything you own, or I take your daughter with me, and you repay me gradually. Choose wisely, Andrew. You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your days poor, now would you?" I kept my tone even but laced it with a subtle warning.
He was greedy—loved money more than anything. And desperation? It made him reckless. So what would a greedy, desperate man do in a situation like this? Simple. He'd give me his daughter.
Despite trying to look tough, desperation etched on his face. "Let's settle this with my lawyer instead."
I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of his suggestion. "You think I'm a joke," I deadpanned, my voice devoid of humour.
James handed me my gun, and I checked to see if it was still loaded, glancing sideways at Andrew's horrified expression. His face turned beet red with rage, his eyes bulging with fury.
"You're insane!" He snarled.
He took a step forward, his fists clenched, but James intervened, grabbing his arm and holding him back.
"My patience is wearing thin, Andrew," I looked him dead in the eyes before adding. "And I'm afraid the closest to you will be affected first."
Sometimes, a scapegoat was necessary to command respect. I didn't joke around when it came to my Ariana. Or my money. I'd worked tirelessly to get where I was today, and Marc's guidance had played a huge part in my success. It was a pity he wasn't here to see me… thrive.
"Shane..." His face turned white.
"James," I called out.
"She's downstairs, sir," James replied.
I nodded. "Good."
I was determined to leave with Aria and to make sure Andrew knew the cost of crossing me, one way or another.
"WAIT, SHANE! PLEASE LISTEN! SHE'LL SIGN THE DAMN CONTRACT, PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!" He stumbled toward me, voice cracking, tears streaking down his face. Pathetic. Why did Aria have to be tied to someone like him?
"Words aren't enough for me, Andrew," I gripped his face harshly. "I want my money." I want your daughter.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, my muscles tensed, Just as I was about to push him aside, a faint voice cut through the tension.
"I'll sign it," Aria whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes darted to her father, "I'll sign the contract," she repeated, her voice slightly stronger this time.
There was no going back now.