Forced to be His

Emma Sinclair held tightly to her old purse strap. Her heart raced as she walked into the huge building that screamed wealth. The marble floor sparkled under the soft light of fancy chandeliers. It smelled like expensive cologne, and it made her stomach flip.

She felt out of place.

The receptionist, a sharp-looking woman in a smart suit, barely looked up. "Miss Sinclair?" she asked.

Emma swallowed hard. "Yes?"

"Mr. Blackwood is waiting for you. Take the private elevator to the top floor," the receptionist said.

Emma hesitated for a moment. She thought about running away. But deep down, she knew she couldn't do that. Not when everything was on the line. Her father's voice rang in her ears, filled with worry.

"You have to go, Emma. It's our only shot."

With resolve, Emma pushed her feet forward and entered the slick elevator. The doors closed softly behind her, and she caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her green eyes were wide with fear. Her lips were pressed tight, and her fingers twisted the strap of her purse, her only link to comfort.

The numbers lit up one by one. 40th floor. 50th floor. 60th floor. With every second, the weight in her chest grew heavier. Finally, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened into a thick silence.

Before her was an enormous office filled with sleek modern furniture. It looked impressive and a bit overwhelming. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the stunning city view, but it wasn't the skyline that took her breath away.

It was him.

Damien Blackwood sat at a large mahogany desk. His presence filled the room with a strong energy. He didn't look up right away. His fingers moved over some papers, and his face gave nothing away. The dark suit he wore fit perfectly, as if it was meant just for him.

Emma had seen his photos, but they didn't show how powerful he looked in real life. He radiated authority and something else that made her uneasy.

Finally, he looked up and locked his intense blue gaze on her.

"Miss Sinclair," he said.

Emma's heartbeat raced. His voice was smooth, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Mr. Blackwood," she managed to reply, trying hard to keep it steady.

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her with a cool gaze. "Do you know why you're here?"

Emma thought for a moment. "I assume it has to do with my father."

A slight smile crossed his lips. "Correct. Your father owes me a lot of money. More than he'll ever be able to pay back."

Emma clenched her fists tight. She knew this all too well. She had watched the worry eat away at her father. She had seen the late nights and the unpaid bills piled up in the kitchen. But she was still confused about why she was here.

"I know," she said cautiously. "But why am I here?"

Damien's smile widened for a brief moment. "Oh, Emma. This has everything to do with you."

A cold sensation ran down her back. The way he said her name, it felt like it was already his.

"I'm willing to wipe the debt clean," he continued, his voice silky smooth. "But I need something important from you in return."

Her heart raced. "What do you want?"

He stood up, his movements slow and careful, moving towards her. Each step made her pulse quicken. He came so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"I need something from you, Emma," he said, stopping just inches away.

Her breath hitched. Every part of her wanted to flee, yet she was frozen in place. "And what do you want from me?"

He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through her.

"All in time," he said softly. "For now, understand when I say jump, you don't ask why. You just do it."

Emma stepped back, feeling a wave of anger. "I'm not some pawn in your game."

His smirk grew. "Aren't you?"

Fury boiled inside her. "I came here looking for answers, not to be played with."

"You are the answer," he replied calmly. "You just haven't seen it yet."

Her mind was spinning. What could he possibly mean? Why her?

"I want to know what you want from me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Damien watched her for a moment, then let out a deep breath, as if he was thinking about something. Just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he said, "Patience, little one."

The way he said it sent another chill down her spine.

This wasn't just business.

There was something much deeper going on here.

And Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to uncover all the layers.

Emma felt her head spin as she walked out of Damien Blackwood's office. The elevator felt stuffy, like his words had sucked all the air out of it. She gripped her purse, her hands shaky, trying to figure out what had just happened.

*You are the solution*.

The words kept repeating in her head, sounding like something bad. What did he even mean? What was he planning? And why did she feel like she'd gotten mixed up in something way bigger than herself?

The elevator doors finally opened, and Emma hurried through the lobby, past the receptionist, not even noticing how the woman stared. Outside, the cold night air hit her, snapping her back to reality.

She pulled out her phone and called her dad, her hands still trembling.

Emma? His voice sounded rough, weak.

Dad, she said, trying to catch her breath. What did you do?

He didn't say anything.

Emma felt her stomach clench. He mentioned some huge debt you are unable to pay back. He wants me to be his solution. What is that supposed to mean?

Her dad sighed heavily. Emma... I didn't want you to get mixed up in this.

She gripped the phone tighter. But I am. So tell me what's going on.

A longer silence this time. When he spoke, his voice was a bare whisper. Blackwood isn't just some businessman, Emma. He's the real deal. You don't want him as an enemy. I thought I could fix things, but I messed up. And now... he sees you as a way to pay off what I owe.

Emma's heart raced. Pay off things in what way?

I don't know, he said quietly. I just know you need to watch yourself. Damien Blackwood always has an angle.

Emma swallowed hard. She wanted to yell, demand answers, but she knew it wouldn't help. The only one with the truth was Damien himself.

And that scared her witless.

The next day, Emma barely got any sleep. The previous night's talk weighed on her as she went to the small café where she worked. The routine helped take her mind off things, at least for a while. Soon, she had a bad feeling in her gut.

She was wiping down a table by the window when she noticed it.

A black car. Parked across the street.

She stopped what she was doing. The windows were dark, so she couldn't see inside, but she could feel someone watching her. A chill ran down her back. She tried to ignore it, but the car stayed put. Even after an hour.

She started to panic. Was it him? Was Damien already setting a trap for her?

Emma?

She jumped and knocked over a glass. Water spilled everywhere as she hurried to clean it up. Her manager, a nice lady in her forties, frowned. Everything okay, sweetie?

Emma forced a smile. Yeah. Just tired.

Her manager looked concerned but didn't push it. Go take a break.

Emma nodded and headed to the back. But before she left, she glanced out the window one last time.

The car was still there.

Watching.

Waiting.

The bad feeling had turned into real fear by the end of her shift. The car was still there when she walked outside.

She took a deep breath and decided to see if she was right. Instead of going straight home, she turned left, walking the other way. Her heart pounded as she quickly looked over her shoulder.

The car pulled out and followed.

It was tailing her.

Emma sped up. *Stay calm. Think*. She needed to lose them, but how? Her place was just a few blocks away, but if they knew where she lived, she'd never feel safe.

She turned a sharp corner and ducked into a crowded shopping area. Slipping into a clothing store, she moved through the racks, her heart racing. Peeking through the window, she saw the black car pull up outside.

Then, the driver's door opened.

A man in a dark suit got out.

Emma sucked in a breath. It wasn't Damien, but the man had the same cold, calculating vibe.

He looked around, then pulled out his phone.

A split second later, her phone buzzed.

She knew who it was without even checking.

Damien Blackwood.

Her fingers trembled as she read the message.

*There is no escape. I will find you, Emma.*

Her stomach sank.

He knew.

He knew she'd try to run.

And he had let her.

Her phone buzzed again.

*Come outside. We should talk.*

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart pounded as she realized the awful truth.

She was already caught in his game.

And there was no way to quit.

A few minutes passed. She could barely breathe as she stayed hidden behind the racks of clothes, gripping the fabric like it could keep her safe. Her mind was racing. *If I don't go outside, will he come in?* The thought made her panic even more.

A store worker approached her, giving her a polite but curious look. Ma'am, are you looking for anything special?

Emma quickly shook her head. No, just browsing.

The worker nodded and walked off, but Emma knew she couldn't stay there forever.

Another buzz. Another message.

*Emma.*

Just her name. Nothing else. But that one word felt like a ton of bricks, like a warning and a bad thing that will happen.

She took a shaky breath, then slowly walked to the exit.

As soon as she stepped outside, the cold air hit her, but it couldn't hide Damien's scary presence. He was there, waiting. A black car was parked at the curb, the man in the suit holding the door open.

Emma forced herself to move forward, each step feeling harder than the last. As she got closer, Damien looked at her through the open door.

His face didn't show anything, but his voice was still smooth. Get in, Emma.

And somehow, she knew she had no choice.

The whole car ride felt like being stuck in a pressure cooker. The silence was heavy, like it was pushing down on Emma's chest. No one said a word, but you could feel the tension between them, like a live wire-you just couldn't miss it. Each second seemed longer than the last, stretching on forever.

Emma sat up straight, her back stiff against the car seat. Her hands were clenched so tight in her lap that her knuckles were white. She stared straight ahead, not even glancing at Damien Blackwood. But it didn't matter. She could feel him there. His dark presence filled the whole Jeep, like he owned the place.

Even the air felt different, charged with something she couldn't put her finger on. It was like standing too close to a storm, dangerous and unpredictable. She thought she could hear him breathing slow and steady, like it was no big deal. But her breaths were quick and shallow, and her heart was pounding.

The city lights went by outside the windows, but Emma barely saw them. Her mind was spinning, trying to figure out what was going on and how to get out of it. But no matter what she thought of, it always ended the same way-with Damien in charge.

That thought sent a shiver down her spine. It was not a good feeling being controlled by anyone, let alone Damien. The way he carried himself, always so calm and collected, was unnerving. Emma had known him for a while now, mainly through business dealings, but there was always something about him that made her uneasy. Maybe it was how he always seemed to be one step ahead, or maybe it was the look in his eyes that suggested he knew more than he let on.

Whatever it was, Emma knew that being alone in a car with him like this was not good. She needed to think of something, anything, to break the tension and regain some control of the situation. But as she looked out at the city lights once again, she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever she did, it wouldn't be enough. Damien always seemed to get what he wanted, one way or another. Emma steeled herself. She had to at least try to stand up to him.

As the car continued its onward movement through the city, Emma tried to piece together where things had gone wrong. She'd always prided herself on being a good judge of character, capable of reading people and predicting their next move. But Damien Blackwood was different. He was like a puzzle she couldn't solve, a maze with no exit. She thought back to the arrangement that had led her to this point. It had seemed like a win-win situation, a chance for both of them to achieve their goals. But somewhere along the way, things had shifted, and she'd found herself trapped in a web of his making.

Now, as she sat beside him in the confined space of the Jeep, she realized the true scope of her misjudgment. The silence was not just uncomfortable; it was strategic, a tool he was using to unnerve her. His presence was not just imposing; it was calculated, designed to remind her of the power he held.

Emma took a deep breath and tried to steady her racing heart. She knew she couldn't afford to let fear consume her. She needed to focus, to think clearly, and to find a way that gave her the upper hand. The car ride stretched on, each minute adding to the weight of the silence and the feeling of being cornered. But within that tension, a spark of defiance ignited within Emma. She might be trapped in this moment, but she refused to surrender completely. She would not let Damien control her fate. She would fight back, and whatever it took, she would find a way to regain her independence. The battle had begun, and Emma was ready to meet the head on.

Chill out, Damien's voice rumbled, breaking the silence like a dropped bowling ball.

Emma's jaw tightened. Was he serious? How could she chill out when she was being kidnapped by a guy who basically said she was the payment for her dad's crazy debt?

I have no idea what you want from me," she mumbled, clinging to her purse like a lifeline.

Damien turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. I want you to listen, for once.

Emma scoffed, finally turning to face him. Listen to what? How you're planning to sell me off? My dad made some stupid deal, not me.

A tiny smirk played on his lips, and a shiver went down her spine. And yet, here you are, in this car with me, Emma.

Her stomach twisted into knots. He was right. She was stuck here. And as much as she wished she had a say in any of this, deep down she knew she didn't.

She turned back to the window, watching the city lights turn into streaks of color. Where are you even taking me?

Damien leaned back, acting like he didn't have a care in the world. Somewhere we can talk without all the noise.

A wave of cold washed over her. What if I don't feel like talking?

His face changed a little, but his voice stayed calm. You don't get a choice.

Emma swallowed hard, her heart pounding. Every part of her screamed at her to bail as soon as possible, but where could she even go? Damien Blackwood wasn't just some random dude-he was powerful, a real shark. He practically ran this city.

The car stopped so smooth you could barely feel it. They were in front of some fancy hotel, the kind you only see in magazines. Some valet guy came running to yank open Damien's door, then hesitated for a second when he saw Emma.

Get out, Damien said, his voice low and hard.

Emma took a breath. What if I don't want to?

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. Then I'll just carry you.

Her pulse went crazy. She didn't doubt him for a second.

Swallowing her anger, she got out of the car, wrapping her arms around herself as the cool night hit her. Damien walked ahead, like he just expected her to follow. She thought about running right then and there, but before she could even make a move, she spotted two of his goons hanging back.

Trapped. Again.

Her heels clicked on the shiny marble floor as they walked inside. The lobby was huge, over-the-top fancy, full of suits who didn't even give them a second glance. Damien walked like he owned the place-and honestly, he probably did.

They got into some private elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, Emma finally lost it. Why are you doing this?

Damien sighed, like he was dealing with a bratty kid. Because, Emma, your father screwed up big time. And now, you're going to fix things.

Her stomach dropped. How am I supposed to do that?

The elevator pinged. The doors opened to some crazy penthouse, and Damien walked out first, telling her to follow. She did, her eyes going wide at the sheer size and flashiness of the place.

Then he turned to her, his eyes serious. You're going to be my wife.

Emma felt like she couldn't breathe. What did you say?

Damien took a step closer, and she backed up until she hit the wall. You heard me. Your dad owes way too much cash to ever pay it back. But you--you're worth a lot more to me.

She shook her head, starting to panic. You're nuts if you think I'm just going to--

I don't need you to say yes, he snapped, his voice even and dangerous. This isn't up for discussion, Emma. This is how it is. You become my wife, and your dad's debt vanishes, just like that.

Tears welled up in her eyes. What if I say no?

Damien tilted his head, looking over her. Then, cold as ice, he said, Then your father will face the music.

She gasped. You wouldn't.

His eyes locked on hers. Go ahead and try me.

Emma's world went sideways. This couldn't be real. This wasn't her life.

But as she looked into the eyes of the dude who now controlled everything, she knew one awful truth.

She was completely screwed.