I felt the pen with a frozen blade in my hand, right over the dotted line.'". The legal document that introduced Isabella Rossi's name had a creepy and unfamiliar vibe. Alexander Volkov looked at me from afar as I laid down on the polished mahogany table, his expression unwavering like that of the granite mountains I'd drawn in happier days. The air in the room was suffocated by his presence, leaving me gasping for breath.
He spoke with such force, he didn't ask for more than that. Miss Rossi, "Sign now, it's time to do something about your family debt.".
Debt. That ugly, crushing word. The burden stayed with me, a weighty blanket created by my dad's desperate actions and my mom's silent infirmities. That amount was insane, a number that belittled the dreams of an average artist and the meager income from my occasional job.'". But Mr. Volkov had no request for monetary aid. He was asking for me.
A contract marriage. It was ridiculous and it made my stomach shiver. Isabella Rossi, a common artist who preferred charcoal to diamond, was obliged to marry despite the fact that he likely had blood in his veins instead of ice. An individual whose name was linked to dominance, prosperity, and unyielding ambition. Alexander Volkov. The man who owned half the city, it seemed, also desired to possess me.
I muttered, "What the hell was going on?".
The question was a foolish one to me. A hundred reasons were at play, including a tax loophole, public image enhancement, or the horrifying capriciousness of obtaining all sorts of riches. There was something else I needed to hear, not the sound of my family's impending ruin.
His icy gaze overshadowed me, a hint of something I couldn't quite comprehend before they returned to their usual coldness. "This is the most effective way for everyone involved, " he said, as if discussing stock market figures. Your family's safety in peace.". My... situation... handled. ".
My situation. He described marriage as a "situation." My pen grip was tightened, and my knuckles were white. Despite my plea to not come here, Liam, my closest friend, had intervened. He informed me that Alex Volkov was a shark and would be consumed alive. Liam was unaware of the debt's magnitude or the desperation that was affecting him.
My eyes were filled with wonder as I looked at Sofia, my little sister, who was beaming with joy and unaware of the storm clouds enveloping our house. My thoughts were confined to my parents, their worries overwhelming. My sole hope was in this harrowing affair, this marriage.
My voice remained steady as I inquired about the terms.
He wouldn't acknowledge my fear of being a threat.
He reclined, his chair creaking softly, and there was no sound in the secluded yet silent office. The smile on his lips was delicate, more a display of muscle than actual pleasure. "Uncommon sentiment.". You'll be my wife. Whether in person, online or at home.' Over the course of two years. Attending events is my intention, to keep up with appearances. The debt of your family is eliminated immediately in exchange. They will be free. And you'll be... cherished. ".
Cared for. Like a prized pet. A work of art with significant value. Or. A shiver ran down my back, but not from complete fear. Why? There was an odd, perilous charm to his might, a dark magnetism that attracted me as I ran away. The man was dangerously handsome, in a severe, muscular form, and the sheer boldness of his request was almost... impressive.
I said, "For two years, the aroma is like ash." What's next? And what happened after that?
"We're departing," he said, his eyes becoming mine. We parted.
No fuss, no drama. It's a given that you won't want to leave. "The last part was spoken with an almost invisible force, revealing hints of something beneath the surface that made my heart race.".
The expansive city beyond his vision was visible through the sheer windows....it just seemed so". Like the man across from me, a frigid and unresponsive concrete expanse. What steps should I take to become connected with this person? Is it possible to fake being in love for two years?
The sight of my family's faces left me feeling indebted. Their safety. Their future. That was all that mattered.
Holding my pen tight, I breathed deeply.. This was not about love. It was about survival. It was about sacrifice. I had a slight, unfeeling part in me that I might be consumed by such force.
I felt a tremble in my hand, but I put the pen down and wrote myself in it. Isabella Rossi. A new identity for a different, unloved life. With the drying of the ink, Alexander Volkov's eyes widened slightly and he perceived something that was not understandable before it hardened again. He walked across the table without shaking my hand and took his copy of the signed contract.
"Welcome, Mrs.
His voice was low, promising and threatening, as Volkov spoke, "Your new life begins now.". It's not going to be the same as you anticipated.
He rose from his position, turned around, and walked towards the large window, leaving me alone in the quiet, cold office with my diamond ring and an uncertain future on my finger. It was so liberating.