Chapter 6 The Contract

A few minutes after I wake up back in my prison cell the same night, the door of the bedroom slams open so hard that it's as if the walls shake. My body tenses before my mind even registers who it is. Dante.

He's furious.

Very furious.

I don't think I've ever seen a man so in control, so composed yet radiating so much pure, raw anger. He strides into the room, his gaze falling on me and I'm suddenly aware of how small I am compared to him as I look down to my feet in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

He remains still, frozen, looming over me, with his jaw clenched, and his chest rising and falling in shallow, regular breaths, as though he is holding back something violent.

Then without a single word, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and yanks me forward.

"Come with me."

I struggle, but his grip is so tight I am unable to wiggle free. It's not painful, but it's tough, and I feel like a child being dragged to clean the mess they made in the kitchen or something. My heart beats fast in the inside of my chest, but I do not beg or plead for him to release me. Instead I raise my chin as he drags me from the room across the long passages of the mansion. If I'm going to be punished for wanting my freedom, so be it.

The house is silent except for the snapping sound of his shoes on the marble floor. He takes us to his study, where bookcases line the walls and a single desk light illuminates the room. He pushes a folder in front of me before finally letting go of my wrist.

"Read it." His voice is low and controlled, but I can still sense his anger.

I stare at the folder and then back at him.

"What is this?" I ask trying not to sound scared.

"Your father's debt." He replies coldly.

I stare at him from a second unsure of what to say, so I reach for the folder and open it. My eyes run page after page of legal terms, and so many words it's hard to even comprehend them all. But one number stands out to me fully.

$205,023,072.

It was as if for a split second I was unable to breathe.

My dad did this.

I've always suspected he was an irresponsible man with money, that he'd gamble and owed important people things he couldn't pay them back, but this?

This is... impossible. This is too much money.

I blink and then turn the page once more, forcing myself to keep on reading.

On the next page there's a clause...that I have seven days from today to pay the debt in full. And if I can't?

There's a second option.

A marriage contract.

I tear my gaze away from the words and scowl deeply at Dante, my hands curled around the edge of the desk. "You're crazy." I spit out.

He leans against the desk beside me calmly as if he expected me to react like this and he had already thought of an answer days ago. "Am I?"

"You are...because who does this?" I bang the folder shut. "I refuse. This is insane."

"What's insane," he says smoothly, "is that your father felt he could take my money and just disappear. It's not my fault that he left his family to rot."

His words hit like a physical blow. My family. Mama was working her fingers raw at the marketplace. My siblings were barely able to attend school because of the fees. Mama even had to take a loan to pay for my flight tickets here.

"But I am not my father," I snap, but my voice quivers.

"No," he smiles, tilting his head slightly. "You're not. Which makes you even more valuable."

The way he says it makes my stomach twist deeply. Like he no longer sees me as a person, but some business tool in whatever depraved game he was trying to play.

I take a deep breath, making eye contact with him. "You can't seriously think I'm going to marry you."

He smiles. "You can give me the money then instead if you'd like."

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Oh, sure, just let me check my savings account real quick. Perhaps I have two hundred million just sitting there."

"Then we have a problem," He stands tall now, a shadow of self-satisfaction curling on his lips. "Because I always get what I'm owed. One way or another."

I shake my head. "There has to be something else. A different way-"

"There isn't, Isla."

My breathing begins to come out unsteady. My mind is all muddled up, several thoughts are running through my brain all at once. It's as if the severity of the situation just dawned fully on me.

"What do you even get from this?" I ask "What?"

He sighs, and his eyes are cold as he looks at me. "Because by marrying you, it's not just a payment of debt. It's giving me the entire access of assets your father did not lay down as security."

I glare at him. "You want everything. Even what we don't even have."

"I want what I'm due," he says coolly. "And you, Isla, are the only thing of worth left."

I don't respond and his expression shifts a little, and it isn't just his smug smirks, but now there's something calculating in his eyes.

"Your mother works too hard for a woman her age, doesn't she?" he says quietly.

What is he trying to get at?

"Your siblings... two of them, right? The young ones can't even attend school properly. Tsk tsk..such a shame."

"If you sign," he continues, his voice suddenly softer, almost reasonable, "I might be persuaded to send some... charity their way."

The way he says "charity" makes my skin crawl. Like he's tossing scraps to dogs.

"How generous of you," I spit out.

His smile is cold. "I'm nothing if not a benevolent patron, Isla. Your family would be under my protection. A generous monthly stipend for their expenses. Your siblings' education fully funded."

I narrow my eyes. "And what's the catch?"

"The catch?" He leans forward, his face inches from mine and I have to stop my intrusive thoughts on how attractive he is despite his wickedness. "The catch is they become mine too. My responsibility. My people." He pauses, letting the words sink in. "Your mother will know exactly who pays her bills. Your siblings will know who finances their futures. They'll answer to me when I call."

Horror creeps up my spine. "You want to own my family?"

"I want what's mine," he says simply. "And soon, they'll be part of my... extended household."

The implication is clear. My family would trade one prison for another-poverty for servitude.

"And if I refuse?"

Dante opens his desk's drawer, pulling out an iPad. He taps on it a few times then turns it around to face me. Security footage appears on screen-my mother leaving our small apartment, my younger siblings walking to the bus stop.

"I have men stationed near your family's home," he says casually. "We're not protecting them...just observing. For now at least."

This is definately some kind of threat.

"You wouldn't," I whisper.

"I don't make threats, Isla. Just promises." He puts the pad away. "Besides, even without my intervention, how long before your mother's health gives out? How long before your siblings drop out of school entirely? The neighborhood they live in now also isn't exactly safe."

My chest twists painfully.

I look at the contract again, at my name neatly typed beneath a blank line to sign. The pen beside it glints in the poor lighting.

My fingers shake as I take the pen.

I can feel Dante staring at me. This is it. This is the moment when my life is no longer mine. The moment I officially become a chess piece on somebody else's board.

I think of Brown. Of freedom. Of everything I wanted. Everything I struggled for.

And of Mama's tired eyes. My siblings' threadbare clothes. The predatory men who eye our apartment, knowing a vulnerable family lives inside.

I shut my eyes.

When I open them again, they're filled with unshed tears, but my voice is hard.

"I want it in writing. Every penny they receive. Every protection guaranteed."

Something like triumph flickers across his face. He reaches for another document in the folder and slides it toward me.

"Already prepared."

Of course it is. He knew I would choose my family over myself. He knew exactly which strings to pull.

I scan the document. The financial support is generous, but the language makes my stomach turn. "The Romano family shall be recognized as dependents of Dante Valenti, subject to appropriate oversight and discretion..."

My family was now reduced to his slaves.

I sign my name slowly on both documents, as if savouring the last moments of my freedom. Each stroke of the pen felt like a stab in my chest.

As I set down the pen, hatred crystallizes inside me, as pure and sharp as a diamond. The girl who dreamed of Brown University is gone. In her place stands a woman with one purpose: to find a way to destroy the man who now owns her.

I look up at Dante, my new owner, and force myself to hold back and not take action on all the violent thoughts

"I hope you're satisfied."

His smile is all predator as he collects the signed contracts. "Satisfaction comes later, wife. This is just business."

I feel sick as he reaches out to cup my cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing across my lower lip.

"Don't worry, little Isla. I take excellent care of my possessions."

In that moment, I swear on everything I hold dear: one day, I will make him pay for this.