Page 143 of Ruthless Contract
I nodded. He rose from his chair. My breath caught as he approached me. I wanted to retreat. But I was on my knees. Even if I could run, where would I go? He stood before me, towering over me.
I stared past him, refusing to look him in the eyes, my gaze settling on the chair he'd occupied only seconds ago.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Must he push me to the edge of insanity? Did he have to take it this far?
“Now!”
Damn it!
I raised my gaze to his, glaring up at him, heart racing. Instead of throwing the folder at me, he offered it to me like a sane person this time. I stared at it. Taking it felt like accepting my own sentence.
It felt like surrendering, like giving up. I was a fighter. I never gave up. I would find a way to make this work in my favor, in my team’s favor. I just needed a moment alone to think.
“Take it,” he ordered.
Moving slowly, I lifted my hand and accepted the folder from him. During the exchange, his fingers brushed mine. It was the smallest touch, yet both of us reacted to it, affected by it.
We froze, touching for a moment before jerking away from each other. But that brief moment was a cruel reminder of what could’ve been. He retrieved the pen from the floor and handed it to me.
He was careful not to touch me this time. I opened the folder again and flipped to the final page. There was a line at the bottom of the page, awaiting my signature. I swallowed hard, gripping the pen.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. My hand hovered over the paper as every person I loved passed through my mind.
Kelly. Dayana. Tracy.
Ivy. My mom. My staff.
My stores. The Circuit. The brides waiting on flowers.
Those people were depending on me. If I refused to sign, Rome would continue destroying everything my family had built. And he wouldn’t stop there. He’d hurt innocent people who had nothing to do with this. People I’d sworn to protect. If I signed, only one person had to suffer.
Me.
Another tear slipped down my cheek despite my best efforts to hold it back. I flinched when he wiped it away. My gaze rose to his, and I found him staring at his tear-stained finger, a look of anguish on his face. When he caught me looking, he schooled his features into an expression void of emotion.
“You know who else cried while kneeling before their captor?” he asked, grabbing a Kleenex from his desk to wipe his hand. “Marcel, when they tortured him. Don’t think tears will make me pity you. Tears can’t erase what happened to my cousin. Sign the contract, Blossom.”
This bastard.
He tossed the napkin into the trash can by his desk. I quickly wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. I lowered the pen to the page. My hand shook as I signed.
Blossom Brooks.
Every letter felt like a chain locking around my wrists and ankles. When I finished, I stared at my name. There it was. My signature. My surrender. My sacrifice. Rome reached down and took the folder and the pen.
He looked at my signature for a long moment before closing the folder and placing the items on his desk. Then his gaze returned to mine. I remained kneeling in front of him, hating how small I felt.
I hated how angry I was and how badly my heart hurt when I looked at him. Rome squatted in front of me. Then he leaned closer until his face was inches from mine.
“The contract begins now,” he told me. “From this moment on, you belong to me until I’ve decided you’ve suffered enough. Understood?”
I nodded.
“Use your words,” he ordered.
“I understand,” I whispered.
