Chapter 1 BROKEN Dreams (Demilia’s POV)
“Demilia, come here this minute, enough with the theatrics!” Drake suddenly slammed his hand on the desk in front of him, to the extent the walls of our house shook. “I’m doing my best with the available option to save us!”
I stood like a statue in the middle of the cold living room which I have grown used to, my fists clenched like I would punch him if granted the opportunity, but I hid it from him, to avoid his fury rising above what it is already. “Did you just say save us? By willingly selling me off like livestock? Could you explain how exactly that would help in saving me?”
Drake’s jaw tightened, and I could swear he was holding himself from punching as he used to. He was desperate, and would do anything to get what he wants. This was him being lenient with me, if not, he won't care telling me or negotiating, instead, I would find myself inside the house of the buyer. “You don’t seen to get anything. We’re drowning without help. Our debts are eating us alive. The house will be gone before you know it if we don’t act fast.”
“You think I give a damn about the ugly house?” I spat. “What about me and my feelings? What happens to my dreams? You didn't pause even for a second to put me into consideration, rather, you made me nothing but a bargaining chip, having no value in your selfish game.”
He took a step forward, and I almost disappeared out of fear he would hit me as usual. His voice very low but dangerous. “This isn’t to be called selfish. It’s just survival. Ethan Blackwell is the best option here. He's offering us a way out, a contract marriage, not a forever deal. You agree to marry him, and the debts vanish without trace. The family’s saved, simple.”
I laughed out loud at how simple he made it look. Bitter and sharp laugher to that left me wondering if it was coming from me. “You expect me to agree and marry a cold hearted, most ruthless billionaire in this city because you woefully failed to keep your promises to him?”
Drake’s patience snapped as he raised his hand to hit me, but sudden backed off. “Well, not like you even have any choice. You don't have to agree before you marry him. All you need to know is you will be his wife because it’s the only way out.”
“The only way out...” I repeated, my voice shaking as I tried to figure out my next move before they succeed in trapping me in their prison. “Well, I would gladly die as a free bring than accept to live a prisoner in his gold gilded cage.”
He glared furiously at me, voice like ice. “You’re not dying because I still need you for business. You’re only surviving; and this will happen whether you like it or not.”
I was shaking like a leaf by now, torn between hating him and hating myself for being so weak, no backup or connection, no plan of escape.
The air surrounding us became too suffocating, and the sound of the wall clock nearby was more like it was mocking me. The brother's shadow seemed to stand everywhere, hindering my freedom.
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The next morning, I didn't know what happened, but I found myself inside a big house, other than our own. It was Ethan Blackwell’s penthouse, a well-decorated glass fortress atop the city. I knew I didn’t belong there. I belonged nowhere anymore that very minute j woke up.
The entrance door opened before I could approach it, and a tall, impeccably dressed, masculine, cold and broad shouldered cold figure emerged.
His presence took over the room even before his voice could reach me. He was wearing a sharp suit, covered with dark aura, and eyes that did all the commanding with just a glance. He didn't need to walk, his presence commanded space.
“Miss Dante,” he started without any trace of warmth. “Your brother might have run you through the terms, and they are clear and I believe you understand everything. All I expect from you is your compliance.”
I swallowed hard, still finding it hard to believe. “I can't remember signing up for this.”
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind me, but all I could hear was the sound of a prison cell locking tight. “Neither did I wish to share same space with you. But unfortunately, business is business. And you happens to be part of the deal.”
His tone was nothing like what I've ever heard. The kind that harbored no mercy. My instincts already warned me that this man didn't just command power, he was power.
I met his eyes, there was nothing soft in them, hard, unyielding, and ruthless. “I’m not and will never be your property.”
“Property don't have the liberty to negotiate. You will only obey.”
The words was unbearable, cutting through me like a sharp edged blade.
At that moment, it dawned me me, my brother hadn't just cruelly sold me to a man, he willingly auctioned me into a brewing storm.
He took me to master part of the house that I shouldn't near for any reason, and as we walked, I observed as everything screamed old money and wealth but still felt lifeless.
“You’ll do well to follow the contract diligently, no room for complaints. No silly attempts to escape from here” His voice came as a command, it didn't provide me the opportunity to argue or disagree with him.
He spoke in the manner of a man already acquainted to being followed without questions, each word more of authority and danger.
“Why exactly are you doing this to me? What do you gain by keeping me around?” I challenged, though my voice lost the boldness required to challenge him.
He paused on his track, eyes sharp and piercing. “I am simply protecting my empire, my territory. You’re just the collateral.”
I bit my lip, tears threatening to well up my eyes as I felt humiliated. “Collateral? I’m not an object but a human being.”
“To me, you’re nothing but a liability leaching on me for survival, until you prove otherwise.”
That evening, as we sat down at the long dining table, his gaze buried deep into me, not willing to take his eyes off me as he spoke in garnished wicked sentences. “You eat only when I say so. You sleep when I give the order. You obey every word from my mouth.”
I refused to maintain eye contact with him, my gaze lowered on the food before us, which I knew would be tasting bitter like humiliation and fury.
“Do you understand me?” he shouted.
“Crystal clear.” I replied.
His lips curved into a smirk, or maybe a cruel smile. “Good then. Because, for your safety, this is nothing like a marriage of love. It’s all about transaction. And you’re being paid to be here, act the part.”
I wanted to scream at the top of my voice. To break something to calm my anger. To escape this horrible nightmare.
But instead, I gathered the remaining dignity in me, swallowed the lumps already forming in my throat,,,, and sat still.
The journey just got started.
This is just my day one.