Trapped By My Ex's Ruthless Uncle

alculating negotiator across from her seemed to settle into something more patient, more qui

ded, his voice even

with strategy sessions, with whispered plans of revenge. She had

?" she asked, trying to keep her

gument, "is for you to understand what this arrangement entails. You belong to

t's a cage," she shot b

? Go ahead. Go solve that three-hundred-thousand-dollar nursing home bill on your own.

an anchor, dragging her down into the abyss.

She was led through a private elevator that opened directly into a sprawling penthouse apartment. The space was minimalist and severe-all

ad, he gestured toward a leather a

body rigid

He placed it on the desk between them and slid it toward her. "This

er legal jargon that seemed designed to suffocate. Exclusivity clauses. Non-disclosure agreem

nsane," sh

f us. You wanted revenge. I want control. Thi

her eyes burning. "And

en you walk out that door. And you face the Murphys, the nu

at her to run. But the image of her mother, frail and helpless, rose unbidden in he

ked up

r away. She signed her name with a hand that barely trembled, and when sh

et satisfaction. He didn't gloat. He simply placed the do

ng, a constant reminder that her time was no longer her own. He dictated her schedule, her wardrobe, her meals. Every decision, from what she ate f

rself, to turn her body into a shell,

bed. The sheets were cool beside her. She dragged her a

actly three hundred thousand dollars. Beside it was a new, unope

ndered. A bought woman's wages. A wave of violent, self-loathing revulsion washed ove

and began to ring. The screen showed an

outstanding balance has been paid in full. In fact, the gentleman, a Mr. Rhodes, also left a rather substantial prepayment. It's enough

y to pay the bill. He had paid it himself. Directly. Without her consent. It wasn't a transacti

all rang, startling h

s assistant. "A styling team will be arriving in one hour to

forgotten. Nathaniel and H

," she said, h

lied, his tone unchanging. "He asked me to remind you that thi

cut through her haze of pain and humiliation. A stage. He was right. Hiding

her car. She thought of Hillary, living in a house bought with her mother's money, weari

her rage began

id into the phone, her

eflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes shadowed with exh

shock chasing away the last vestiges of weakness. No more tears

, a team of four people was already setti

y indicated, meeting the lead

ice low and clear. "That makes it i

touched her lips. A queen was abou