Chapter 2 - SOLD TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER
"You escaped one cage, Elena. But you just walked into mine."
The Carranza estate was not a home; it was a fortress. Nestled deep within a private estate surrounded by high stone walls and armed guards, the gothic mansion loomed out of the dark like a sleeping beast.
Elena sat wrapped in a thick, dry blanket in Matthew’s massive, firelit study. A maid had brought her hot tea, but her hands shook too much to hold the cup. She had been given dry clothes—a oversized black silk shirt that belonged to Matthew, smelling of cedar and expensive tobacco.
Matthew stood by the French doors, looking out at the rain-lashed gardens. He had discarded his suit jacket, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and marked by a faint, jagged scar near his wrist.
"Your father, Julian Vargas, was a fool," Matthew began without turning around. "He trusted the wrong woman, signed the wrong papers, and died at a very convenient time for his new wife."
Elena flinched. "My father loved Isabel. Or... he thought she loved him. After he died of his heart attack, everything went to her. I was left with nothing."
"Not quite," Matthew turned, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Your father didn't die of a heart attack, Elena. He was poisoned. Slow-acting arsenic, disguised as cardiovascular failure."
The tea cup slipped from Elena’s fingers, shattering on the hardwood floor. "What? No... that's impossible. The doctors—"
"The doctors were paid by Isabel," Matthew interrupted, walking slowly toward her. Each of his steps felt deliberate, heavy with a power that made the air in the room feel thick. "And your father didn't leave you with nothing. He left you with fifty-one percent of Vargas International. But he hid the physical stock certificates. Isabel has spent the last two years trying to find them. She couldn't sell the company without them. So, she ran up debts. Massive debts. To me."
Elena stared at him, her mind spinning. "She owes you twenty million dollars..."
"Twenty-two, to be exact," Matthew corrected, stopping just inches from her chair. He leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests, trapping her between his arms. The scent of him enveloped her—masculine, dangerous, and intoxicating. "Isabel called me tonight because she had a proposition. She knew I was looking for a return on my investment. She told me she had a 'rare asset' she could trade to wipe her slate clean. A pure, untouched Vargas heir."
Elena’s breath hitched. "She... she was going to sell me to you? But she locked me in the room with Mr. Ambrose!"
"Ambrose was the backup plan," Matthew sneered, a flash of genuine disgust crossing his features. "Ambrose is a middleman. He was going to buy you from Isabel, then use you to negotiate with me. Isabel bypassed him when she realized I was closer. But you escaped before either could claim their prize."
Elena looked up into his dark, mesmerizing eyes. She saw no warmth there, only calculation. "So what happens now? Are you going to hand me back to her? Or are you going to keep me here as payment?"
Matthew reached out, his thumb gently brushing the dark bruise on her cheek. His touch was surprisingly warm, sending a strange, electric shiver down her spine, but his words were ice.
"I don't accept damaged goods, Elena. And I don't share my property," he whispered. "Isabel wants a war. We are going to give her one. But to do that, you are going to sign a contract."
He stood up and tossed a thick leather folder onto the table in front of her.
"What is this?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"A marriage contract," Matthew said, lighting another cigarette. "You marry me. I protect you from Isabel and Ambrose. Together, we find those stock certificates, strip Isabel of every dime she has, and put her in a cage for your father's murder. In exchange, I take control of Vargas International for five years."
Elena looked at the contract. The terms were legally binding, cold, and absolute.
May you like
"And if I refuse?"
Matthew walked back to the window, his back to her. "The front gates are open, Miss Vargas. But I assure you, Isabel’s men are already waiting just down the road. Choose your monster."
