The conference room was everything I had ever dreamed of — and more.
Beautifully designed with elegant art pieces and golden lighting, everything about it screamed wealth, exclusivity, and success.
I stood there, clutching my files and reading through them over and over, my heart racing faster than that of a trapped bird.
Across the table sat two young men in black suits and a woman in an elegant blue dress. I recognized them immediately — movie stars I'd only ever seen on screen. I was excited, terrified, and completely lost.
At an exclusive table sat a man in an impeccable black suit, his skin light and flawless, his presence commanding. The nameplate before him read: Xavier Stones.
His aura filled the entire room.
"Miss Rachelle Blues," he said calmly. "Please, have a seat."
"Thank you, sir," I replied nervously.
He leaned forward slightly. "You seem to have caught the attention of our company. Are you ready to be part of us?"
"Yes, yes!" I blurted, barely containing my excitement.
"I believe you are capable of serving at any point in time," he continued, his tone unreadable. "As you already know, this is a five-year contract with our company, and we would not want to invest in anyone who might bring us loss."
"I won't disappoint you, sir," I said quickly.
He nodded and slid a file across the table. "Here it is — our five-year contract. Everything you need to know is in here: our terms, conditions, and laws."
My heart nearly stopped. This was it — the opportunity I had been praying for. I could barely focus as I flipped through the pages, my hands trembling. I was too drowned in my own excitement to notice the small print at the bottom of the page:
> By signing this contract, both parties agree to become a couple legally, binding each to a lifelong commitment under the marital statutes of Washington D.C., as established under Section 2A of the Stones Partnership Code.
Without a second thought, I picked up the pen and signed my name with a smile so wide it hurt.
"Welcome to the company!" the others chorused.
"Yes," Xavier added smoothly, "welcome. You're officially ours."
But I was too lost in happiness to think twice about his words — ours.
---
That joy didn't last long.
When I got home, eager to tell my father the good news, I was met with a completely different reality. A letter lay on the dining table — a vacation notice and an evacuation order.
It stated that our house and restaurant were to be cleared within seventy-two hours. No explanation, no warning, no name — only a note saying the property belonged to the company now. At the bottom, a phone number was listed for negotiation.
My father was silent as he read it. Then, to my horror, tears fell from his eyes — tears I hadn't seen since the day Mom died.
"Dad… please, don't cry. I'll fix this," I said, clutching his shaking hands.
We closed the restaurant early that day. My mind raced all night, searching for a solution. I tried calling the number again and again — nothing. Luis, my fiancé, was away on a trip, his phone unreachable until the next week.
Then, around midnight, my phone rang. The same number.
A meeting was set for 8 a.m. sharp the next morning.
I didn't sleep a wink. I could only pray our dreams wouldn't crumble before my eyes.
---
Morning came too soon. Dad was weak and barely able to eat, so I prepared breakfast for him and promised to come back with good news.
The address I was given looked oddly familiar. When I arrived, I froze. The bold letters on the building read: STONES CORPORATION.
The name echoed in my mind — Stones… Could it be the same company? I brushed the thought aside. Surely there couldn't be only one Stones in Washington.
But when I walked into the office, my breath caught.
Sitting behind the desk was Xavier Stones.
"Sir?" I said, half in shock, half in relief. "Oh, thank God! It's you! Please, don't take my dad's restaurant. We'll pay back whatever we owe. Just give us time!"
He smiled faintly. "I'll help you," he said.
"Really?" I asked, hope surging.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "But… not so fast. You'll have to do something for me in return."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing. "Be my wife."
"W-what?" I stuttered. "Your wife? Sir, that's impossible. I'm getting married in a few days. I already have a fiancé—"
He interrupted with a quiet laugh. "You don't remember?" He handed me a familiar document — my acting contract.
I froze. "Sir… I don't understand."
"Read the last line," he said.
My eyes traced the tiny letters — and my entire body went numb.
By signing this contract… both parties agree to become a couple legally.
"No…" I whispered. "No, this can't be true."
Tears blurred my vision. "I demand a divorce! I will never be your wife! Luis loves me — I love him! You can't force me into this!"
"Alright," he said calmly, handing me another document — divorce papers.
I reached for the pen, but he stopped me.
"You can sign that," he said coldly, "but once you do, everything you love — your father's restaurant, your home, your career — will disappear. I wonder how your father will react when he finds out his daughter cost him everything… especially now that he's sick."
"Please," I cried, shaking. "Don't say that. Don't hurt him. He's all I have left. Please!"
He stood up, towering over me. "Then follow my rules, wifey."
At that moment, pure hatred surged through my veins. I had been deceived, trapped, and caged — and yet, I had no choice.
Trembling, I whispered, "I agree. Just please… undo everything. Send a letter to my dad, tell him it was a mistake."
"Alright, wifey," he replied, smirking.
I ran out of the company, my mind spinning, my heart breaking. A storm of emotions swirled inside me — anger, pain, fear… and the crushing truth that I had just traded my freedom for my father's peace.