Owned by the Billionaire CEO

Amy's eyes widened as she caught a brief glimpse of him at the exit of the Schneider Golf Course.

But before she could even blink, the bodyguard's heavy frame covered her view.

She was sure he was Mr Schneider, standing 4 yards away and about stepping into the limousine.

Jacob Schneider.

The famous philanthropist, her last hope if her sister would ever be able to walk again.

She had seen the kind works of his charity foundation on TV and newspapers.

And she knew hanging around the foundation building hoping he would come out or go in would definitely pay off.

And finally after 8 hours, it indeed paid off!

"Mr Schneider! Please help me sir, my sister is in the hospital!" she cried out in a loud voice that she never imagined she could muster.

The serene environment turned even quieter as the few people present turned to look at her in wonder.

Jacob Schneider had a look of bewilderment on his face.

Silence.

More silence.

The bodyguard took this cue and started moving towards her, to bundle her off like a ball of clothes.

But she would fight and plead and kick and give it her best before letting that happen, she determined, starting to speak again.

"Pleas..."

"Stop." It was Schneider. Both Amy and the bodyguard froze at the command.

"Young lady, I don't grant the money, the Schneider Foundation does. Do well to make an application at the foundation instead of this. Good day." He made to enter the vehicle once more but Amy had a quick reply:

"I know sir, but my sister has less than 18 hours for surgery and I don't know how to raise a whole $55,000 in just hours.

"The Schneider Foundation has an application process of 5 working days. It would be too late by then sir. I'm begging you. You're our last hope, you're Mr Schneider himself." Amy was in tears.

He shook his head slowly, "sorry young lady. The Schneider Foundation gives the money, not me. I can't help."

The bodyguard was starting to gesture her off. She intensified her tears, standing her ground and the bodyguard was becoming forceful.

"What is your name?"

This was a different voice entirely. Amy looked up and saw a man she hadn't noticed standing beside Schneider all the while. The bodyguard stopped again.

"Amy. Amy Wilson." A flicker of hope kindled in her heart as some beads of tears found their way to her mouth.

He regarded her with a stare she couldn't quite decipher. Was it pity? Contempt? Or

something far more dangerous?

"I'll give you the money for your sister's surgery, Ms Wilson."

Amy held her breath-not daring to believe what she just heard. Who was this man?

"Thank you very much sir. I'm..."

He cut her short, "Be at my office, 4pm today."

She nodded fervently and collected a blue business card he was holding out.

"Thank you sir"

He gave her a long cursory glance, said nothing, walked across the road to a blue Rolls Royce, got in and zoomed off.

Amy exhaled heavily, realising she had been holding her breath out of anxiousness.

Jacob Schneider gave her a curt nod and his bodyguard closed the door of the limousine.

She turned away, on her way to find the address printed on the blue business card.

***********

She squinted up at the high skyscraper, distantly making out the logo "Walton Inc." at the top of the high-rise building in the heart of Manhattan.

A few minutes later, she was seated before the Rolls Royce man in a fully air conditioned room, her sweaty palms between her thighs.

"Do you understand, Miss Wilson?" he asked, squinting at her and his voice barely a whisper.

Amy nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears.

He would give her the money, but she must agree to the contract laying on the desk before her.

She had just finished reading the contract and it was way heavier than she imagined.

The legal language, precise and unforgiving, painted a chilling picture of her future. A future where she would be "anything he needs her to be," his possession, her body and soul at his

disposal.

"Yes, I understand," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly.

The words tasted like ash in her mouth, a bitter acknowledgment of her desperate bargain.

Amy signed the papers, her signature a shaky scribble on the document.

He handed her another set of papers.

"Sign."

"This isn't different from what I just signed," she remarked after taking a glance.

"I want you to have your copy of the contract, with a signature that isn't photocopied. In case you later need a reminder that you're someone's property," he smirked.

She wondered if it was too late to tear the paper, bolt out of this goddamn office and find help somewhere instead of a psycho cold billionaire CEO who just desperately wanted to own a human for 2 years.

Her heartbeat accelerated, she contemplated running back to the streets, looking for the next person to offer $55,000 for Debby's surgery.

But what would happen if she couldn't get help elsewhere within 15 hours?

Images of Debby on a wheelchair flooded her head, she bit her lip as she imagined her sister's swimming career going down the drain.

She remembered how proud she was when 16 year-old Debby won her first gold medal in a swimming competition.

"I won sis!" Debby grinned, smiling with her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I'm so proud of you, come here sweetie,"

Amy opened her arms wide and Debby fell into them for a bear hug, letting the happy tears fall.

And that was the first of many gold medals her sweetheart brought home with big smiles.

What would become of those smiles when Debby realised her legs were gone?

"Waiting, Miss Wilson."

His voice cut her reverie, jolting her senses back to the moment.

Amy gave a tight smile; now she knew that she would gladly sign this contract a thousand times over just to see those big smiles again.

She signed.

"Good. But I wonder how a girl doesn't know that after a surgery the patient needs to recover in the hospital for weeks. Eventually costs more than just the surgery bills.

"I hope you're not dumb, Miss Wilson. I can't stand dumb girls," he smirked.

"Don't call me d..."

"You'll get $80,000," he interrupted her retort.

Amy was grateful but hurt by how insultive he was.

The exchange was swift and efficient. In the next 15 minutes, $80,000 was transferred, a life raft in the turbulent sea of her financial trouble.

*****

Amy slept with a big smile on her face that night, almost forgetting the contract she signed with Thomas Walton.

What she hadn't anticipated was the chilling realization that her new owner, the cold, ruthless billionaire, would begin to exert his power at a time and manner different from what she ever expected.