Billionaire's Contract Bride

CHAPTER 2

SCARLETT ADDISON

I knocked three times on the heavy wooden door, my knuckles grazing its cold surface, and waited. A moment later, a booming voice from within permitted me to enter. I pushed the door open slowly and found my father seated behind his massive oak desk, his expression as unyielding as ever. Beside him, my stepmother's brother lounged in a chair, his smirk sending a chill down my spine.

“Scarlett, did it really take you that long to finish your chores today?” my uncle sneered, his tone dripping with menace.

I stepped closer, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Good evening, Dad. Blessings,” I greeted him, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on me with that inscrutable look I had come to dread. I pressed on, “The windows were particularly grimy today because of the winter. I managed to clean most of them. I’ll finish the rest when I get back from college tomorrow.”

His eyes, dark and unfeeling, betrayed nothing. I could never quite decipher what lay behind them when he wasn’t angry—though anger was usually the only emotion I ever saw. He shifted slightly in his chair and finally spoke. “Let me explain why I called you here,” he said, his voice as cold as the winter wind outside.

“Of course,” I replied, instinctively reaching for a chair to sit down. But his voice stopped me mid-motion.

“I didn’t tell you to sit!” he barked, his tone sharp and commanding.

I froze, lowering my gaze to my feet, which ached from hours of standing outside in the cold, my whole body weary from the day’s labor. “I spent hours cleaning the outside, Dad. I’m really tired. I just wanted to sit down,” I murmured, hoping he might show a rare moment of mercy.

“I don’t care!” he snapped. “You’ll stand.”

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, but I fought them back. I knew better than to show emotion in front of him. He had always said I was too soft, that I didn’t resemble his daughter at all.

“Fine, you can speak,” I said quietly, still avoiding his gaze.

He rose from his chair, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he commanded.

I complied, lifting my head to meet his cold, piercing stare. His approach was slow, and deliberate, reminding me of all the times he had made me feel small and powerless.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.

“You’re here to be informed that I’ve arranged a good marriage for you,” he said bluntly.

My eyes widened in shock. A good marriage? What did he mean by that? I tried to keep my voice steady. “Dad, I can’t get married. I’m just starting college and—”

He slammed his fist down on the table with such force that I flinched, my words cut off by fear.

“Shut up,” he spat. “You have no opinion here, Scarlett. I said you’re going to get married. I didn’t ask for your opinion. You’ll marry, and all you have to do is accept it.”

His words were like a punch to the gut. My stepmother’s brother chuckled, clearly enjoying my distress.

“It seems your little daughter thinks she has the authority to question something, Sander,” he taunted.

“It’s not that, but Dad—” I started to protest, but he was on me in an instant, his hand striking my face so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor. The sting was immediate, but the humiliation burned even deeper. I heard my uncle’s laugh, a cruel, mocking sound that made my skin crawl.

“You know that questioning me has never been a good option, Scarlett,” my father said, his voice filled with anger.

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks as I lay on the floor, my face throbbing from the blow.

“Scarlett never learns,” my uncle jeered, sipping from a glass of whiskey, clearly relishing the spectacle.

“You’re going to marry Logan Blackstone,” my father declared, his words landing like a death sentence. I felt my blood run cold.

Marry Logan Blackstone? It was like being condemned to a life of torment.

“Dad, please don’t do this,” I begged, my voice trembling.

Logan Blackstone was notorious. He's a ruthless CEO, the eldest of three brothers, known for his brutal business tactics and rumored to have a hand in his fiancée's mysterious disappearance just days before their wedding. He was a man without a heart, and I was being handed over to him like a sacrificial lamb.

“You’re going to marry him,” my father continued, ignoring my plea.

“I made a very good deal for our family, and frankly, you’ve never done anything useful. You’re just a burden to that college of yours, and you’re never going to achieve anything you want.”

His words cut deeper than the slap had. I had heard them so many times before, but they still had the power to break me. “Dad, I can work odd jobs. I can even stop eating here if that’s what it takes. Just don’t make me marry that man,” I pleaded, desperation in my voice.

He recoiled from me as if I were something vile. “Do you think a job on a street corner is going to make a difference, Scarlett?” he mocked. “I made a deal, and you’re part of it. So wipe those tears and get out of my sight. I only called you to tell you about your wedding, not to ask for your opinion.”

I struggled to my feet, the pain in my cheek nothing compared to the ache in my heart. “You’re selling me to his family, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re just getting rid of me.”

He didn’t bother to answer, his attention already back on the papers spread across his desk. Those damn documents were worth more to him than I ever would be.

“Dad, why do you hate me so much?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I’m your daughter, your firstborn, and you’re selling me off like I’m nothing. Aren’t you afraid of what could happen to me? Don’t you care?”

He shook his head, dismissing my fears. “I talked to Logan. He’s not going to waste his time with something like you. All he wants is our company. You’re just a part of the deal,” he said, looking at me with utter disdain. “Now get out of my office. I’ve wasted enough time on you.”

I stood there, paralyzed by the realization of what my life was about to become. “It’s really pathetic,” my uncle sneered.

“I said, get out!” my father roared, lunging toward me. He grabbed my arm and shoved me out of the office, slamming the door behind me with a force that shook the walls. I stumbled into the hallway, my face wet with tears I couldn’t control. I made my way back to my small room in the servants’ quarters, each step feeling like I was walking to my own funeral.

I collapsed onto my bed, letting the tears flow freely. I had never truly believed my father would do something like this to me. I knew he hated me, but to sell me off to one of the coldest men in the city? My dream of freedom was crumbling, replaced by a looming nightmare. I was being sentenced to a life of hell, and there seemed to be no escape in sight.