Chapter 2 2

At last Rylan murmured, "Sit down," his voice weak and like the soft buzz of a sword being sharpened. His comments exposed merely command; friendliness or welcome was absent. The thick tension in the air caused her chest to tighten as she silently sank down onto the chair across from him.

On the desk, before her, stood one document. The work was flawless; the typography was tidy and businesslike, quite professional. As Amaya's eyes swept over the sheet, she couldn't read a word. Her own pulse, the pounding in her ears as she waited for him to speak, overwhelmed her mind.

"I have been patient, Amaya," Rylan's voice pierced into her ideas from through her fog. The dates for your father's debt are fixed, though. And I worry you will be the one liable. Not with contempt, he said it with finality, as if her fate had already been sealed.

Her gut trembled. Her voice steady, she asked, "What do you mean?"

His fingertips only gently brushed hers as he passed the paperwork across the desk instead of answering immediately away. About it, there was no accident. That hardly amounted to a loving gesture. It was computed, a faint assertion.

Rylan turned directly ahead from her face. "I've already set up for your father's debts to be passed to you," he said in a cold, quiet voice. "The deal is essentially simple. You married me; your father's obligations are forgiven. You wander free.

Amaya's heart missed a beat while her brain worked to decipher the words he had just spoken. Marry he? The ideas were ludicrous. Her breath halted in her chest as she sought to build a response. Nothing showed up. His offer carried weight like crushing shackles poised to pull her under.

Rylan looked at the paper; the words still incomprehensible to her, then back to her face. "You're not in a position to object, Amaya. Everything your family left behind depends on this; all you know. Sign it; I'll make sure you get out without damage. Refuse... The hostility was clear even though his voice stopped.

Amaya's palm hung above the pen, the shiny silver object glistening in the subdued light. She could feel the weight of the choice weighing down on her every second pulled her closer to a life she did not desire. Her brain flew. She made still another choice as well. Was a decision involved at all? She now held her father's name, his reputation in her hands.

Rylan's low voice cut through her ideas. "Sign it, Amaya," he urged with subdued demand. "Or I'll see to it your dad covers the final expenses."

Amaya grasped for the pen, her hand shaking as Rylan's words hammered on her chest. Though the narrow point hung barely above the page, every instinct in her yelled for her to stop. This was a proclamation not merely a signature. She lived in a world she was terrified to live in, never asked for.

Her brain whirled as the seconds seemed to last what felt to be eternity. She could feel Rylan's steady, unrelenting eyes on her, like a predator following his target. The room's cold was seeping through her bones.

Her thoughts went back to her father, to his worried face only a few hours before, to the countless sacrifices he had made. Could she really stand by and let him suffer for his errors alone? Signing this deal was the only way he might have been spared. Was everything they produced costing this?

Until she whispered at last, "What if I don't sign it?" The silence between them choked out terrible length. Her voice was small and hardly audible, yet it carried the weight of her revolt.

Rylan never blinked. His eyes locked hers; his expression was invisible. Still, his lips slightly jagged forward. "then I'll make sure your family name disappears. There won't be another chance either.

Her thoughts felt to her like a physical blow, and the room whirled. She loved her family, her father most of all. How might she fail him? How can her uncertainty ruin the man she had loved and revered all her life?

She grasped the pen, the chilly metal moist under her hands. Her thoughts scattered. She had never felt more alone or in her life more vulnerable. The decision felt insufferable in weight. A man bearing all the power decided her family's future as well as hers.

"think about it, Amaya," Rylan's voice was quiet once more, yet the words cut through her will like a blade. "This defines your father's future. Not let me manage affairs alone.

"Take your time, Amaya," she urged. Rylan's voice was velvet-like, yet the type of smoothness made her skin itchy. Of course, you make decisions. Still, he fixed his eyes on her, a constant reminder of the power he carried.

The weight of the contract still squarely on her chest, Amaya struggled to match his gaze. Her hands shook; the delicate print blurring was clear as she stared at the paper before her. The cost beyond her pride, more than her future, more than her will. This blanketed all she had ever known, all she had loved.

The air in the room grew denser, every breath weighing more than it had ever done. Once more slicing over the isolation, Rylan's voice was low and full of quiet menace. Should you not sign, Amaya, he said, the words intentional, "I'll ensure your father loses everything." And you, actually, will have nothing. nor any future, nor any family.

Her fingers hovered over the pen, quivering as truth hit her hard. The weight of his offer, the terrible cost of turning down, appeared to be smothering her from all directions. This was war, not a clear decision. an effort towards survival.

Rylan muttered, slinking forward slightly and glittering with something deeper: "Sign, and I'll spare him." Not, and he will forfeit everything. include you.

The pen in her palm was terrible weight. Her fingers shook, violating every attempt at control. Though this was different, she had never been one to give in under pressure. Legacy of her father was this. She had never known anything different than this. She would find herself caught by the same ties holding her father should she sign it. And without her father would lose everything.

Amaya turned her gaze upon Rylan. His jaw was hard; his eyes black and opaque. This man always knew what he wanted and got it. He wasn't wondering whether she would sign. She wasn't sure she could go through with it, though, in that moment her mind swirled with doubt and fear.

She mumbled, "You don't have to do this," her voice almost audible. "Some other has to be possible." Her remarks were fragile, like glass almost ready to crack.

Rylan responded gently instead than immediately. His dark, keen eye fixed hers as if he were scrutinising every thought. With his palms on the desk, he gently leaned forward and spoke in a measured low voice. "Amaya, another way is not possible. You sign or your father pays for his mistakes. Right now, this is your choice and your obligation.

His remarks seemed to be a knife cutting through her. Shaking down her spine, she realised the weight of the decision she was about to take. She lacked choices. Not precisely.

Amaya's fingers grabbed hard at the pen. Hot and sudden, a tear slipped down her cheek. She washed it quickly, as if attempting to cover the fragility that had betrayed her. The truth, though, was unavoidable: taking this offer would change everything. She would travel to be his.

The words almost strangling her, she murmured, "I'm sorry, Father."

He straightened, his tall shadow engulfing her as he watched her attentively, mentally calculating every response.

"Well done, Amaya," he said, his voice like silk but devoid of any feeling. "Was it not essentially a choice??"

Amaya moved aside to overlook him. The truth of his words transcends any kind of physical damage. She had reasoned she might discover another way out of this. Here she was, though, bound to a man who controlled every element of her life, including those of her family and her own future. The weight of the decision sank down on her, and for a fleeting moment she felt the whole planet sitting on her breast.

Rylan remarked, his voice gentle, "Don't look so pained." You are behaving for your father in the right way. Regarding your family. You have done what asked for. One can clearly see not too far off.

His remarks were empty, like a mantra carried on nonstop till it was meaningless. This was survival, not just about duty now. Her family's continuing existence. She had traded her last shred of dignity, her freedom, all for it. Everything has been sold off for this cold, indifferent bit of paper.

Tension permeated the space between Rylan and her as she moved towards the desk. Something about his deliberate ease, something about his stride, suggested he was far too used to live his way. He had won. It was also impossible to go back.

His eye softened just long enough for her to question his knowledge. But the flutter disappeared as quickly as it arrived, and the same frigid will became front stage.

"Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Delacroix," he said, his voice low, strong. "You have made the right decision." You will come to value it in due order.