Chapter 2 The Bargain

Paige-

The rain hit the windshield like tiny bullets as i sat stiffly in the back of a sleek black car.

My hands clenched in my lap. The driver hadn't spoken a word since picking me up from the alley behind the hospital, just like the text instructed.

The city blurred outside, neon lights and wet glass smearing together like a painting left in the storm.

It was past 9 p.m. when the car pulled into a private entrance of the White Tower-fifty-five floors of mirrored steel and rumors.

Power hummed in the building's bones, the kind that made people bow or break.

A security officer opened the door. "This way, Ms. Witherspoon"

The elevator ride was silent but tense. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrored wall-wet hair, pale skin, eyes wide with exhaustion and fear.

I looked like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.

And i was.

When the elevator stopped, it opened directly into a penthouse that didn't look real.

Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a thunder-streaked skyline.

The room smelled faintly of expensive whiskey and colder things-like power, and detachment.

He stood near the window.

Adrian White.

Tall, composed, deadly. He didn't turn around immediately. He didn't have to.

"I thought you'd look more desperate."

His voice was low and smooth.

I stepped forward, swallowing hard. "I am."

Now he turned. Sharp jaw, tailored black suit, storm-grey eyes that landed on her like a calculated strike.

"You received the message," he said, walking toward me with unnerving calm. "And you're here. That says everything."

"I don't have time for games," I said, surprising even myself with the steel in my voice. "My sister is dying."

"I'm aware. I made it my business to know." He stopped a few feet from me, eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"You've already sold everything you have. What's left to offer?"

My pulse quickened. "Why me? Why not find someone else to... use?"

"Because you're smart, compliant under pressure... and completely expendable.

My cheeks flushed and rage brewed. "Is this a test or a job?"

"It's a contract."

He handed me a slim, leather-bound folder. Inside, a marriage license. my name already filled in. His signature at the bottom.

"Marry me," he said. "One year. You'll be paid Fifty million dollars, split into monthly installments. Full access to elite healthcare for your sister, no questions asked.

But you'll follow my terms-public appearances, private obedience, and absolute silence."

I stared at him. The figure rang in my head but I quickly snapped out of it "Why the hell do you need a wife?"

His eyes darkened. "Because my inheritance requires it. And because love is a lie, but legality isn't."

My fingers trembled as i flipped through the papers. Every clause was sharp and cold. No room for error. No room for feeling.

"You're offering to buy me."

"I'm offering to buy your time," he corrected. "The rest is up to you."

A pause hung thick between us.

Then he added, "Say yes... and she lives."

I looked down at the paper, my signature space glaring up at me like a trap i was already falling into.

"I want to add a clause," i said quietly.

His brow lifted. "You're negotiating?

"Interesting"

My voice broke, but i held firm.

"If I fail to follow your terms, you can end the contract. But if you do-if you break it first-I still get the full amount. All of it. For Ava."

Anderson's mouth curved into something cruel and intrigued.

"Done"

He took the folder from me, grabbed a pen, and without hesitation, signed off the change.

Then he handed it back. "Your move, Mrs. Almost."

The thunder cracked outside, and i stepped closer to the desk.

My hand shook and the thoughts of Ava came like a gust of wind and i signed my name.

Paige Whiterspoon.

The pen scratched my fate onto the paper like a curse.

Anderson looked up at me with an unreadable expression.

"Congratulations," he murmured. "You just sold your soul."

Then he leaned in-close enough that his breath touched my skin..

"But don't worry, sweetheart. I always take good care of what I own."