Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
He is all business at this point, and even as badly as I would like to run from the room and seek shelter in my bedroom, I know better than to disobey my father, especially in front of his associates.
On shaky legs, I walk further into the office, my arms still tightly wrapped around my chest as if I’m giving myself a hug.
“Take a seat, we have some matters to discuss,” he explains without looking at me. I hate how emotionless he sounds and looks, even more so than usual.
Two men I don’t know are standing off to the side while a third man is sitting at the desk opposite my father. All I can see is his back from the position I’m standing in, his broad shoulders and thick arms rest against the arm of the chair as he casually leans backward.
Averting my gaze, I keep my eyes trained ahead until I’m at his desk, then I sit down in the free chair, hating how my short nightgown rides up my thighs, exposing even more of my skin. I feel naked and wish now more than ever that I had fought harder to change my clothes.
“Elena, do you remember Mr. Moretti?” My father motions to the man beside me. “Julian Moretti.”
Moretti? The name sounds familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it right away.
As I glance over to the man in question, my heart thunders in my chest, trying to put a face to the name. Immediately, our eyes lock, his icy blue stare penetrates me like a sharp dagger… just as they did the first time we met.
I remember it well, and I know the exact date because the first time I met this man was at my mother’s funeral.
Just as most men I know, he too wears a mask of indifference. His eyes are blank, a carefully constructed wall placed around him, refusing to let anyone see the man beneath.
“You were at my mother’s funeral.” I simply state.
“Yes.”
His voice is deep and smooth, not matching the rest of him. Everything else about him seems rough and jagged. His jaw sharp, his cheekbones angular, and his lips pressed firmly into a tight line. He’s handsome in a devilish way, he could even be a model I’m sure. I can tell that he’s older than me as he has this air of maturity about him, but I’m not sure how old since he has no fine lines around his eyes, only a permanent scowl between them.
I wonder if this man has smiled a day in his life.
“Elena.” My father draws my attention back to him. “I need you to sign right here.”
He pushes a piece of paper across the mahogany desk and passes me a pen.
“What is this?” I look down at the document but can’t make out any of the words.
“Just sign it,” my father orders, his tone harsh. Cruelty isn’t something my father has ever shown me, and I can see he’s struggling even right now with how to act. He’s never been a great father, but that’s because of his absence and overbearing nature, not because he is unkind to me. Whatever this is about is weighing heavily on him.
Dragging the paper closer to myself, I grip the pen between my clammy fingers and start to sign my name at the bottom. The room is silent, and I can hear the pen gliding across the paper. I’m not even halfway through signing my name when my hand freezes. My eyes dart from the document before me and up to my father, then back again.
That can’t be right.
With the ink pen hovering over the paper, I reread the first few lines of the document.
Ownership Contract
This agreement confirms that as of today, Elena Romero will belong fully and without further stipulation to Julian Moretti in exchange for ten million dollars...
“What is this?” I question with fervor, dropping the pen as I pull back from the desk.
A knife twists in my chest, the edge digging deeper with every breath I take.
This can’t be what I think it is.
“Don’t question me. Just sign the damn document,” my father growls, slamming his fist down on the desk, and for the first time, he looks up at me. The coldness that reflects back at me makes me shiver. I’ve never seen him like this, and I don’t understand why he’s selling me to this man. Julian Moretti.
“I…” My bottom lip trembles and I bite it to stop it. “You can’t do this… You can’t sell me. I’m not signing this.” Tears blur my eyes at the betrayal that consumes me. I want to scream, to fight this with all my might, but I feel helpless. There isn’t a single person in this room that will help me.
The words have barely passed my lips when Moretti leans over and grabs my hand, engulfing his much larger one with my small one. Heat encompasses my hand, and it’s like being burned by fire. I try to pull away, but he only tightens his grip as he forces the pen between my fingers and my hand back to the paper.