Bound By Duty

Velia Angelica Howell clutched her handbag tightly and looked anxiously over her shoulder as the cool evening breeze sliced through her flimsy coat. With flickering streetlights casting eerie shadows on the cracked pavement, the deserted street felt oppressive. She walked quickly, the sound of her footsteps echoing from the walls of the silent buildings around her.

Her heart pounded, not only from the fear of being alone at night but also from the weight of the events of the day. She had previously experienced an unexpected loss of her administrative employment, which the firm attributed to "downsizing." The fact that her fiancé, Andrew, had been comatose for months after the car accident that had claimed her parents didn't worry her, nor did the mounting bills. The world was indifferent to her challenges.

"Miss Howell, wait!"

Velia stiffened, her blood chilling at the sound of the rough voice behind her. She didn't need to look back to know who it was. The loan sharks.

"Come on," she murmured to herself, urging her legs to budge. Yet her feet seemed anchored in place. Gradually, she rotated, her large eyes locking onto the threatening stare of the man who had been pursuing her for weeks. Two additional men stood by him, their expressions set with the threat of aggression.

"Your payment is overdue," the man remarked, his tone misleadingly tranquil. He took out a cigarette, igniting it nonchalantly as though they were talking about the weather. "We granted you an extension out of goodwill, but now... goodwill has ended."

"I-I simply require additional time," Velia faltered, gripping her handbag as if it contained the solutions to her pleas. "I will pay." "I promise."

The man laughed ominously, nodding his head. "Time? Promises? Do you believe we're operating a nonprofit organisation? Allow me to clarify this, Miss Howell. You have time until the week's end. "No excuses."

One of the thugs stepped closer, extending his hand to grab her arm. "Maybe we should grab something for collateral," he mocked, his grip becoming excruciatingly tight.

"Please release me!" Velia sobbed and pulled at her arm, but the man's grip held firm. She felt a wave of panic and looked around desperately for help. The street was empty and barren, like a stage set up for her humiliation.

A deep, commanding voice cut like a razor through the tension, "Enough."

All heads moved in the direction of the voice. A towering figure emerged from the darkness of a nearby alley, his pristine dark suit sharp, his demeanour commanding. His defined jawline and striking grey eyes appeared to take in the faint light surrounding him, giving him an air of nobility and peril.

The loan sharks stiffened, their confidence faltering beneath the outsider's chilling stare. The leader advanced, inflating his chest. "This doesn't concern you, friend." "Step back."

The man showed no reaction. Rather, he turned his head a bit, his facial expression inscrutable. "I recommend that you free the woman," he stated, his tone composed yet infused with a subtle command that gave Velia chills.

"And what if we don't?" the leader questioned, although his tone had diminished in confidence.

The stranger grinned, the slightest arch of his mouth. "Afterward, you will regret not having done so."

For a brief moment, the street became quiet. The atmosphere was charged with tension as the loan sharks shared wary looks. At last, with a grunt, the leader signalled to his men. "Let's leave."

With a push, the thug released Velia's arm while silently cursing to himself. The trio retreated, disappearing into the shadows.

Velia staggered back, breathing shallowly and quickly. Her eyes widened in a mixture of gratitude and horror as she turned to face the stranger. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.

The man observed her for a brief instant, his expression inscrutable. After that, he nodded. "You need to exercise more caution," he remarked plainly. "Tonight, not everyone has your good fortune."

Before Velia could answer, he pivoted and started to walk off, his lengthy steps taking him back into the darkness.

"Wait!" she yelled, stepping forward hesitantly. He hesitated but did not look back. With a quivering voice, she questioned, "Who are you?"

He remained silent for a minute. Then he said, "Lucas Hernandez," without turning around. The name was like a shock of electricity to her.

Everyone knew Lucas Hernandez, the affluent CEO of Hernandez Holdings. In the world of business, he was a titan who was both feared and revered.

However, why would someone like him be in such a place? He disappeared into the night before she could ask him any more questions, leaving her alone on the empty street.

Velia's legs buckled, and she fell to a nearby bench, her mind racing. The meeting seemed dreamlike, reminiscent of a moment from the love stories she once enjoyed. However, this wasn't a made-up story. This was her existence-chaotic, uncertain, and balancing on the brink of breakdown.

As the excitement diminished, reality struck her like a speeding locomotive. The loan sharks were not going to yield for long. She required cash quickly, or they would pursue her once more. Her mind drifted to Lucas Hernandez, the person who had rescued her this evening.

What was he seeking? What prompted him to step in? And why did she sense that this was merely the start of something far greater than she could grasp?

Unbeknownst to Velia, the occurrences of this evening would lead her down a path that would change her life forever.

The following morning, Velia awoke to a vague discomfort in the arm where the loan shark had seized her. The events of the night before replayed in her head like a nightmare as she sat upright on the shabby couch in her little apartment. And then-Lucas Hernandez.

The menace, the fear. Even now, she could not explain why his name made her shudder. Why was he in that place? A man of his size had no business getting involved in conflicts that had nothing to do with him in dim alleys. But what stuck out more than his presence was his voice. Deep, commanding, but strangely reassuring.

Velia got up and walked to the kitchen, shaking her head. When she opened the refrigerator, the shelves were empty. She didn't even add milk to her coffee. She let out a sigh. She had been trying to make ends meet for days by eating very little, so it wasn't shocking.

A loud knock at the door startled her.

Her heart was racing. Are the loan sharks already involved? Not even noon had arrived. She swallowed her dread and moved gently to the door, looking through the peephole.

Outside was a sharply dressed man in a black suit. He didn't belong to the loan sharks; instead, he appeared too costly and well-groomed.

"Miss Howell?" The man's voice was crisp and professional.

She hesitated before responding. "Who's asking?"

"I'm here on behalf of Mr. Lucas Hernandez. He wishes to meet with you.

"Velia's breath caught. Lucas?"

I-I don't understand," she stammered. "Why would he want to see me?"

The man remained still. "Mr. Hernandez doesn't use messengers to discuss business. I've been asked to take you to his office by him.

Everything in Veila shouted no. This was too abrupt, too weird. However, what options did she have? She was desperate, unemployed, and drowning in debt. She had to at least listen to Lucas Hernandez if he had anything to contribute.

"Fine," she said. "Give me a few minutes."

---

Velia was seated in the rear of a sleek black automobile thirty minutes later, watching the city pass by the window. She assumed the driver was Lucas's assistant because he hadn't said much or explained the purpose of the meeting.

She felt small-inconsequential-by the time they reached Hernandez Holdings' imposing headquarters. Standing tall above the city like a quiet king presiding over his subjects, the structure was a steel and glass fortress.

As she rode the lift to the top floor, she forced herself to calm down. With a gentle chime, the doors opened to show an opulent office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the metropolitan skyline. Lucas Hernandez was standing close to the window.

When she intervened, he turned, his grey eyes unreadable and cool.

"You came." His voice was smooth and controlled.

Velia clenched her fists, steeling herself. "Your man didn't really give me a choice."

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "I suppose not."

She exhaled sharply. "Why am I here, Mr. Hernandez?"

Lucas gestured to a chair across from his massive desk. "Sit."

Despite her hesitation, she obeyed. After she was comfortable, Lucas sat behind the desk and studied her intently, as a guy who never wasted time would.

"I have an offer for you.

"Velia's hands gripped the arms of the chair. "An offer?"

Lucas leaned forward slightly. "You need money. I need a fiancée."

The words hit her like a slap. "Excuse me?"

He remarked in an emotionless tone, "I have a business deal that requires me to appear... settled." "The investors I work with are old-fashioned. They view unmarried guys as unstable and unpredictable; thus, they don't trust them.

"Velia blinked. This cannot be real.

"I need a woman by my side for the next six months. You will attend events with me, play the role of my loving fiancée, and in return, I will ensure your financial stability."

Velia stared at him. "You're serious?"

Lucas's expression didn't change. "Deadly."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "So, what? You want to buy a bride?"

"It's a contract," he corrected smoothly. "One that benefits both of us."

In an attempt to understand this, she shook her head. "Why me? Anyone may be your partner, including actresses, models, and ladies who would be thrilled to be with you."

His grey eyes darkened slightly. "Because you're desperate."

Her stomach churned. He was not mistaken. The loan sharks were breathing down her neck, and she had no savings or a job. Even in a fictitious marriage, the thought of selling oneself still made her stomach turn.

"I'll pay off your debts," Lucas continued. "I'll ensure you have a place to live and food to eat. And when the contract is over, you'll walk away with enough money to start over."

Velia hesitated. It sounded too good to be true. "What do you expect from me in return? Beyond the public appearances?"

Lucas's expression remained unreadable. "You'll be my fiancée in every way that matters publicly. Behind closed doors, we will remain professional. I'm not interested in complications."

His meaning was clear: he wasn't expecting her to sleep with him. That was a small relief, but it still felt surreal.

"What if I say no?" she asked.

Lucas tilted his head. "Then you go back to your apartment, back to your debts, and back to a life where men like the ones from last night will eventually take what they're owed."

Her breath hitched. He wasn't threatening her, not directly. But he was reminding her of her reality.

Her mind whirling, she closed her eyes for a moment. Six months. All he needed was that. And she would be protected in exchange.

When she opened her eyes, Lucas was still watching her, waiting.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll do it."

A slow, approving smile spread across his lips. "Good."

He reached into his desk and pulled out a contract, sliding it toward her.

"Read it. Sign it. And as of today, you are Velia Howell-my fiancée.

"Velia's hand trembled a little as she picked up the pen. This was insane, but even as she signed her name, she couldn't shake the feeling that this moment-this decision-was the start of something much more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Velia gripped the pen, her fingers shaking a little as she gazed at the contract. Her thoughts were racing as the letters on the white sheets blurred together.

Six months.

I pretended to be Lucas Hernandez's fiancée for six months.

Like something from a soap opera, it seemed unreal. She had a steady job a month ago, nothing fancy, but enough to get by. She was now seated across from a billionaire who was offering her a way out, drowning in debt and facing eviction from her flat.

She ought to be relieved. Instead, she felt a knot in her stomach.

Leaning back in his chair, Lucas observed her with a silent chuckle. He was a man whose every action radiated strength, command, and assurance. She felt like a mouse trapped in the lion's den at the moment.

"Having second thoughts, Miss Howell?" The quiet was broken by his deep voice, which was challenging.

Velia clenched her jaw, meeting his gaze. "I just... I need to understand exactly what I'm agreeing to."

Lucas's face was unreadable as he clenched his fingers. "You will act like my fiancée in public-at social events, business meetings, and any other situation where my reputation is at stake. In exchange, I'll pay off your debts, give you a place to stay, and make sure you have enough money at the end of our agreement."

Something inscrutable flared in his eyes. "Of course, I expect professionalism. No emotional entanglements. No complications."

Velia swallowed. "So, we're just pretending?"

"Yes."

She hesitated. "What would happen if I violated the contract?"

Lucas's jaw tensed. "You won't."

The finality in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

"And if you do?" he added, his tone dropping to something colder. "Then everything I've offered you-your debt relief, your security-will be revoked immediately. Do you understand?"

Velia gave a rigid nod. This was an agreement with a man who didn't put up with disobedience; it wasn't just a business arrangement.

She forced herself to breathe. There was nothing else she could do.

She signed her name at the bottom of the document, holding the pen hard.

Lucas removed the document as soon as the ink dried, quickly scanned it, and then put it in a stylish black folder. "Welcome to my world, Miss Howell."

---

The Transformation Begins

Lucas slammed a button on his desk before Velia could even grasp what she had just done. In a matter of seconds, a well-dressed woman entered the office through the open door.

"This is Evelyn Carter," Lucas said. "She will handle your transition into your new role."

Evelyn, who was in her mid-forties, was elegant and composed, and her keen eyes captured Velia's attention at first sight. She smiled professionally and courteously. "Miss Howell, it's nice to meet you. I'll be in charge of your wardrobe, etiquette, and public image. You will not be an exception to Mr. Hernandez's demands for excellence in every area of his life as his fiancée."

Velia blinked. "Wardrobe? Etiquette?"

Lucas's lips twitched slightly. "You didn't think I would let you walk into high society dressed like..." His gaze flickered to her worn-out coat. "That, did you?"

Velia felt the heat surge to her face. It hurt to hear it so directly, even though she knew she didn't fit into his world.

Evelyn stepped forward, ignoring the tension. "Your first fitting is in an hour. We'll need a complete wardrobe overhaul-gowns, casual wear, accessories. You'll also be taking lessons in posture, speech, and behaviour."

Velia frowned. "Lessons?"

Evelyn gave a nod. "Miss Howell, you have to play the part. Your actions and words must be consistent with your role as the future Mrs. Hernandez."

The words felt heavy. Future Mrs. Hernandez.

The whole thing was a lie, she told herself. However, Lucas's observation of her, akin to a hunter examining his prey, caused her to question whether she had entered a far more hazardous situation than she had initially thought.

---

A Taste of His World

The hours that followed flew by. After being driven away in a fancy black sedan to a posh store, Evelyn and a group of stylists measured, nudged, and changed Velia.

She stood in front of a grand mirror, staring at the woman reflected back at her.

Her plain dress had been swapped out for a sophisticated, well-tailored ensemble that exuded wealth. Once a tangled mess, her hair was now combed into gentle waves, and her full lips and high cheekbones were accentuated by the delicate makeup.

She barely recognised herself.

Behind her, Evelyn nodded her consent. "Much better. You'll have to get used to this new look. Stop slouching. The secret is confidence."

Velia swallowed. "I don't feel confident."

"Then pretend," Evelyn said simply.

Playing a part she wasn't convinced she could manage was odd. However, she had consented to this. The contract was signed by her. Now there was no going back.

Lucas was on a call when she got back to his office, looking out at the city skyline with his back to her. Even in stillness, his commanding presence filled the room.

Evelyn cleared her throat. "She's ready, Mr. Hernandez."

Lucas turned, his sharp gaze sweeping over Velia. Something flickered in his eyes-approval? Amusement? She couldn't tell.

"Better," he said simply. "At least now you look the part."

Velia bristled at his detached tone. "Glad to know I passed inspection."

Lucas smirked but said nothing. Instead, he gestured for her to sit.

"Tomorrow," he said, "you'll make your first public appearance with me."

Her stomach tightened. "Where?"

"A charity gala. High society will be there. Investors, the press. It's the perfect opportunity to introduce you as my fiancée."

Velia's hands clenched. A room full of people who would see right through her? Who would know she didn't belong?

Lucas must have noticed her hesitation. "You'll be fine," he said. "Just stay by my side and follow my lead."

She let out a shaky breath. "And if someone asks about our relationship? How we met?"

Lucas's gaze locked onto hers, his grey eyes unreadable.

"Then you lie, Miss Howell."

His voice was smooth, controlled. But there was something in the way he said it that sent a shiver down her spine.

Velia had lied before-to herself, to the world, pretending she was fine when she wasn't. But this was different. She was entering a life that wasn't her own. A world where deceit and truth were indistinguishable.

She had made a deal with the devil.

And the show would start tomorrow.