Billionaire's Contracted Wife

Chapter 5: Seduced

'Heiress Slaps Billionaire Playboy!' 

'27 year old Billionaire Logan Lockwood announced his engagement to 23 year old heiress Celeste Royce at congressman Finn Starks' inaugural event last week at the Met. This week's issue of the New York Times will reveal everything we need to know about the so-called "happy couple." So what's next for them? All we can say is, we're happy to see the heiress is still adorning her 20 carat diamond ring, which we've all seen and fell in love with. Still, there just seemed to be something strange about the fact that he proposed to her right around the time Lockwood acquired Royce Enterprises for over a billion dollars and the fact that their "relationship" ended just as quickly as it started added to suspicions their romance was less than authentic.'

Quickly shutting off my laptop, I pushed it further on my desk as I massage my temples, trying to get my head around the situation. 

It's been one whole week. I haven't spoken to either Logan or Raphael since the disastrous event. Raphael refused to answer any of my phone calls or respond to my messages. As for Logan, we made it clear to only talk to each other unless completely necessary, and when we did, we would do it through our assistants. 

It took all my strength to walk away from Logan, and since our horrific kiss, he'd started to infiltrate my thoughts, both at home and at work. Why did my body betray me when it came to that man? 

The only good thing that worked out that evening was Finn winning the elections. And the rest of the night was christened by a Stark victory party. 

A sudden knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts, and Delancey entered my office. "Hey Celeste, it's just gone five. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?"

"No, I'll see you tomorrow," I tell her. 

I gather all of my belongings, adjusting my black Birkin over my arm as my heels click against the marble floor as I step out of my office. I lock my door when I hear my phone ring inside my purse. I quickly attain it in hopes that it is Raphael. But I'm left in disappointment to see it's an incoming message from my father. 

'Come to my suite. Now!' - D

I step out of the elevator and into my father's suite's main entrance to see him and Michael conversing with two handsome men on the couch. I recognized them; the blond-haired man is Jack Crawford. He's an extremely blunt big-time lawyer and is continuously involved in countless cases in Manhattan. It baffles me the number of scandalous relationships he's been in the last year for a man in litigation.  

The other gorgeous man beside him is Terry Pearson. He's the business manager at Lockwood Industries, who runs the business interests and finances the Lockwoods operations. 

"Hi, daddy," I greet, as a grin forms on my face.

"Sit down," he orders in a stern tone. I see he's still upset over my behavior at the Starks event. 

I place my Birkin on the table in front of me before taking a seat on the sofa, "What's going on?" 

"Lockwood Industries is in trouble," Jack mutters flatly.

"What kind of trouble?" 

"You read the papers, real estate, hotels. Even in Manhattan, no one's impervious. It's no secret that we have acquired enemies along the way. Now that our investors have backed out on all of their deals, it left the company vulnerable to outside attacks from our competitors," Terry sighs, rubbing his face in frustration. "And, Logan decided to take matters into his own hands when he decided to sell Lockwood Industries for good!" 

Michael set his drink on the glass table in front of him and rose from his seat. He stalked towards me; I clutched my bag in fear of his wrath. 

"All you had to do was keep up appearances! FOR ONE NIGHT!" He yells, saliva spitting out with each jagged word. "And you couldn't even do that! You just had to slap him! Now, not only do our investors think Logan is full of s**t, but our competitors have come forward in an attempt at a hostile business takeover! Well, congratulations Celeste, are you happy now?"

"How can you even ask me that? I wasn't even aware Lockwood Industries was in trouble," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. 

"Well, I wouldn't put it past you, considering your agreement with the Lockwoods will subdue," my father adds. 

He's right. The sole purpose of our agreement was to secure Logan's reputation for the sake of Lockwood Industries. Now that he's accepting to sell the company, then our deplorable contract is over! Oh my god, this worked out better than I could've imagined, and I didn't even break a nail. It serves him right to steal my company in the first place. 

"Maybe Logan should consider refinancing Lockwood Industries. If he agrees to sell the company, that will make him the richest man in the world, and I'm sure the company will stay intact, and so will his father's name," I say, playing with fire.  

"Celeste, you're beautiful, but if I were you, I’d shut my mouth," Michael warns in a threatening voice as his face is riddled with frown lines. "Eric Wolff will dismantle Lockwood Industries to the ground. That son of a b***h offered your father 20% as a stakeholder if he agreed to help them against us!"

Did he just say Eric Wolff? 

"Eric is the highest bidder?" I ask, narrowing my eyebrows. 

"Yeah. Why? You know him?" 

My whole body went numb as I tried to overcome whatever emotions were overpowering me as my mind drifted off to one unforgiving memory with him, sending waves of pleasure through me. 

Why couldn't it be any other man? 

"No," I lied.

"Good, because Eric is a dangerous man, so if there is anything you know that will hinder or obstruct the business, you have to tell us," Michael says in a warning tone.

"Of course," I say, averting my gaze. 

"Michael, we need to move on with our next course of action. There's no time to waste. There are a lot of papers to be signed, transfers of bank accounts. I can't do a thing without either of them," Jack states, rubbing his face in frustration. 

"Celeste, look, I'm just going to come out and say it," Michael says, slowly returning to his ordinarily calm composure. "You have to marry Logan tomorrow night. I know it’s sudden, but time is of the essence now," 

"What? No!"

Disappointment leashed on his face, his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he stared back at me. 

"Were you not listening? Logan will be facing bankruptcy! If you two get married, they won't be able to take his money or business if he doesn't get any of it. I'm going to have him put every dollar he's got, every dollar of Lockwood Industries, his hotels, his house, and every suit he owns in your name," he said with so much assurance that he sounded pathetic. 

I sat there silently, hunched over, and with a sense of loss so powerful. The guilt seems to swallow me into a bottomless abyss that I can never escape, and a part of me genuinely believes that this is my fault.

"Now that Mr. Vanderbilt's been ousted as chairman of the company, it's just Logan and me now. And as much as I like you, Celeste, I'll like you a lot more when I fire you from Royce Enterprises for good," 

I took a deep breath and tried to control my raging emotions.

My eyes widened in anger as my gaze instantly landed on my father. His posture stiffens in defiance. "Michael, that wasn't part of the deal. Celeste had one mishap. It has no bearing on her performance at Royce Enterprises."

My father wasn't one to fight for me on business matters, but the fact that he did, proved to me he had a heart.  

Michael scoffs. "It wouldn't be the first time your daughter's emotions clouded her judgment,"

I stare at him, unable to form a single coherent thought at his cruel words. The Lockwoods were truly heartless beings. Who else could be horrible enough to do as they did? I should've known the rumors about their family were true. Logan's grandfather married, embedded, and ruined half the women in New York. And it seems his messed-up values have passed on to his descendants.

I can't believe how naive we all have been to assume we were safe. My father and I are not safe, and neither is our company, and that's not something I'll ever tolerate. I will not idly sit by as these men destroy everything I care about, and if I agree to their terms, I will have access to all of Logan's wealth and corporate assets. The company will be under my name, and I will own Lockwood Industries. If I wanted to take down the Lockwoods, I had to play my cards just right. 

I had to marry Logan. 

"Now, do what you must to fix this mess, and I'll consider keeping your office for you," Michael says with a sinister look playing on his face.  

With a long sigh, I rose from my seat and held his cold gaze.

"You think Logan will keep you on that pedestal when he learns you're threatening his wife?" 

His eyes widen before a devilish smirk appears on his lips. "Sweetheart, I think you know better than anyone how little family means to my nephew," he takes another step closer to me, "If you don't believe me, go find out for yourself,"

I clench my teeth together, fighting hard at the tears I felt threatening to fall. I could only pray that marrying Logan will get him to treat me better, at least a little until I come up with a way to destroy him. 

I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I had to make a deal with the devil.

The car came to a halt, indicating my arrival, Lockwood Industries. It was a tall 68th floor glass skyscraper with Lockwood plastered across the building's top in brass capital letters. 

My hands smoothed out my short figure-hugging black dress, and I stepped out of the vehicle. I wrapped my silk Louis Vuitton monogram olive shawl resting elegantly on my shoulders over one side over my shoulder to cover my very exposed cleavage. I suddenly felt my phone vibrate inside my purse, and I let out a sigh, raking my manicured nails through my long, long layered hair as I pulled out my phone to read Michael's incoming message.

Office. 46th floor ;) - M

My black Louboutin heels clicked against the polished floors as I walked out of the elevator, reaching my destination, Logan's office. I inhaled a sharp breath and knocked on the door. I waited a couple of seconds when the door opened, and Logan stepped out. 

He had a dark, troubled look on his face like he'd been brooding for hours. Or even days, judging by his excessive, ungroomed facial hair. He wore his black suit pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off the sleeve tattoo he had on his left arm. His red-laced eyes were framed with dark, thick lashes and were locked on mine. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" He mutters in a husky voice. 

I fidget with my engagement ring, unsure how to begin. How exactly do you begin to tell the man you hate that you barged in here to say to him what exactly? I should be happy that this is happening to him. He will finally understand what it feels like to have something he loves stolen away from him. But that's the problem. I'm not like him; I don't play on vengeance.

"I thought we should talk about what happened last week," 

Logan tenses for a second before waving his hand in dismissal. "I'm over it already," 

I scoff, placing a hand on my hip. "Oh? Because from where I was standing, I am the only one who needs to get over it. You were the one in the wrong!" 

Logan's face hardens, and he takes a long sip out of the glassful of scotch in his left hand. "Then perhaps you should move to where I stand,"

"Transparent," I smile bitterly. 

He looks down at me, holding my gaze for several full seconds. I try to rip my eyes away from his, but I can't. I swallow nervously as he slowly moves towards me. Even though every thought in my head screamed at me to take a step back, I stood utterly still. 

"You should leave unless you want me to call security," he threatens. 

"Logan, don't be such a baby. We were both upset and exhausted from work; we said lots of things," 

"Well, I meant them." He spat, staring intensely into my green eyes. Ouch. 

"So did I, now if you don't mind, can you let me inside so we can talk?" 

He glares at me with furrowed eyebrows before granting me access to enter. His shoulders were tense as he gently shut the door behind me, and my mouth parts as my eyes wander around his messy office. I had no idea it was that bad. 

"I'm sorry about Lockwood Industries," I say, removing my coat.  

"I don't need your pity," he rasps, pouring himself another glass of scotch. 

"I'm not here because I pity you," 

He scoffs, turning his back to me as he downed another glass. His awful demeanor worried me a little.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, hesitantly taking a step closer to him.  

"What is there to tell? I'm about to lose everything," he growls, leaning over the bar. 

What is wrong with the men in my life, thinking that you have nothing without status and wealth? 

"Lockwood Industries isn't everything," 

I glance up at him as he pours himself another drink, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "I don't expect you to understand, I wasted my time on your company, and now, I have nothing!" He growls. 

"Okay, enough!"

I took the glass out of his hands, drained the scotch down the sink, and placed it on the bar in front of us. 

"The deal has yet to be finalized on paper, and there is still plenty of time to come up with a pitch before your meeting tomorrow. I've come to help, given the situation at hand," 

"As if you care, you're probably enjoying every minute of this," 

"I don't stand for dirty business, Logan. I came here to discuss our next steps, but clearly, you're not in a proper mental state right now to make any major decisions," I say, trailing my eyes down his body as I take in his state.

"There's only so much you can do to compensate for inexperience, and I think you forget how new you are to the industry. I've been in this game for a while, and I got out alive. If you want my advice, give the s**t up," Logan murmurs hotly. 

"What's wrong with you? When did you decide that becoming some ruthless billionaire would suffice as an applicable reputation to have?" I ask with furrowed eyebrows. 

"I didn't make myself this way if that's what you want to hear," he scoffs. "My father ruined me," 

The emotions worked on his face as he recalled memories with his late father, Elijah Lockwood. I've only ever met Elijah on occasion, considering he preferred to live a very discreet life and away from the rest of the world. I don't know much about him, only that he made his mark on Manhattan, and his passing shook the entire city.  

"Did you ever consider sitting down with him and maybe talking it out?"

Logan scoffs.

"My relationship with my father was far more complex than yours. A day hadn't passed when I wished he were alive so I could ask him why he hated me so much, but maybe I deserved it," he says in spite. 

It broke my heart, hearing the pain in his voice. Was his father always so cruel to him? I wondered what his childhood was like with his father? I took another step closer to him, and he didn't move back despite having room to do so.  

"The closest I came to my freedom was the day he died, and now I'm disposing of the last remaining bit tying me to that bastard!" He yells, smashing his fist against the glass. I wince from the terrifying impact, glancing down at the glass shards wounding up on the desk.  

He pulled his fist back as small cuts surrounded his fingers and knuckles, blood leaking out as others faded into a deeper red color. "This has been fun, but I think it's time for you to leave,"

I ignored him, looking around his office for a rag, but there wasn’t any. I quickly removed my shawl instead and turned on the hot water from the sink attached to the bar. 

"Give me your hand," I say, reaching for his arm, but he grabbed my wrist to stop me. His eyes wander down my body before he catches himself.

"I thought I told you to leave," he says with clenched teeth.

“How can I leave when you’re hurt?”

”I’m not, so leave,” he orders with anger lacing his tone.

"No, I won't," I insisted stubbornly, then everything happened in a second. Logan grabbed my shoulders and pinned me to the wall, his face only an inch from mine. His icy blue eyes, burning with intensity. 

"I suggest getting out of my office before I do something you will regret," he threatens in a low growl. 

"Logan, look at everything you’ve accomplished on your own! It’s obvious how much you care about the company, and if you sell Lockwood Industries, you will only live with that regret for the rest of your life," I say, ignoring the pain his grip caused.

He shot me a penetrating look, and the fear flew through me. "And from where I'm standing, Lockwood Industries is the only company worth salvaging," I lied, hoping to appease his anger. 

He glared at me for a moment before letting go of me and looked down as if regretting what he had just done. 

I released a deep sigh. "Now, give me your hand." 

He growls something under his breath before holding out his hand. I wrung the hot water out of the ends of my shawl and started cleaning his wounds. He flinched from the sting but held himself still. This was horrible. The scars seemed deep, and they would probably leave scars on his knuckles. It must have hurt a lot. 

"I don’t think your stubborn little mind has fully processed what’s going on. If I don't sell Lockwood Industries, you will become my wife," 

"I gave you my word, didn’t I?”

His eyes bore into mine with an intimate stare. My breath caught in my throat as his left hand found its way to my hips, and firmly, he pulled me towards him. I raised my chin in defiance and leaned against him to push him away, but I knew I was going to fail this battle. 

He may have my support, but he will never have my heart.

"Please, don't," I say softly. 

A devilish smirk curls his mouth as his hand travels lower and rests on my butt before he gently caresses it, sending hot shivers through me.

"I seem to remember you liking my hands right here," he mumbles hotly. 

My words got caught in my throat, and I stopped to look at him when I felt the anger seething inside of me. His scolding tone brought back all the horrible memories from last year, and I suddenly remembered why everything came crashing down between us in the first place. 

I pushed him away, taking a step back. "Need I remind you that this marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement," I say, standing firm on each word. 

"And I would remind you that all marriages are business arrangements," he replies in a low husky voice. 

"I suppose, but that was before you proved to me you’re incapable of feelings," I say.

He leans forward, brushing the tips of his finger up and down the bare skin on my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes, "And which frightens you more, Celeste? The fact that I said those horrible things, or the fact that for a moment, you nearly forgot," 

A sudden rage filled me. "You think you are so clever!" I scoff, angered by his audacity, to assume that his charms are working. "I'm too smart to be seduced by the likes of you," 

He chuckles nastily to himself as he turns away to take a seat by his desk, "I almost believed you, Celeste, but it wasn't that long ago when you did."