Bound by deception

"Marry me, or your brother dies."

The words slam into me like a gunshot.

I grip the armrests of my chair, my nails digging into the leather. My heart pounds so violently I feel it in my throat. The air in Ethan Sinclair's office is thick, suffocating, closing in around me.

He can't be serious.

But the way his ice-blue eyes bore into mine calmly, unwavering, tells me he is.

"You're insane," I whisper, my pulse hammering.

Ethan leans back, completely unfazed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He takes a slow sip, savoring it, like we're discussing stock options and not my life.

"Your brother's medical bills are piling up," he says, voice smooth, controlled. "The hospital won't wait forever."

His words strike like a whip. My fingers tighten around the armrests until they hurt.

Liam.

The image of my little brother flashes in my mind. His pale skin, weak breaths, tubes and monitors surrounding his frail body. The doctors said there was hope. Said he could survive. But survival comes with a price.

A price I can't pay.

Anger surges through me. "You think you can just buy me like one of your acquisitions?"

Ethan smirks, slow and confident. "I don't think, Isabella. I know."

I hate the way my name rolls off his tongue. Like I've already lost. Like this is just a formality.

I shove back my chair and shoot to my feet. "Find another pawn, Sinclair. I'm not for sale."

I turn to storm out.

"Leave," he calls after me, voice lazy, unhurried. "And your brother doesn't wake up tomorrow."

I freeze.

A chill races down my spine.

Slowly, I turn back. My hands tremble at my sides, my breath shuddering in my chest.

Ethan sets his glass down with a soft clink and steeples his fingers. "The hospital has already sent its final notice," he continues. "Without payment, his treatment stops. No medication. No surgery. No hope."

He's bluffing.

He has to be.

I reach into my purse with shaking hands, scrambling for my phone. My fingers fumble as I open my messages. I scroll frantically, searching for something, anything, to contradict his words.

A notification pops up.

Final Payment Due. Urgent Action Required.

The hospital wasn't bluffing.

A lump forms in my throat, thick and suffocating. My stomach knots. My world tilts.

"No." My voice is barely a whisper. "I just need more time."

Ethan chuckles. "Time?" He stands, walking around his massive desk like a predator closing in on wounded prey. "You've had months, Isabella. How much more time do you think he has?"

My fingers curl into fists.

Damn him. Damn his money. Damn this entire situation.

I force myself to meet his gaze. "Why me?" My voice is raw. "You could marry anyone."

His smirk fades. His expression turns unreadable. "I have my reasons."

That's not an answer.

I shake my head. "And if I say yes, you'll pay for everything?"

"Every last dime."

I clench my fists.

This isn't a choice.

It never was.

"Fine," I snap. "I'll marry you."

Ethan's smirk returns, slow and victorious. "Good girl."

I hate him.

But I hate feeling powerless even more.

He pulls open a drawer and retrieves a thick stack of papers. A contract. He slides it across the desk like it's already a done deal.

"Sign."

I don't sit down. I don't hesitate. I grab the pen with stiff fingers and flip through the pages.

Clauses. Conditions. Pages and pages of legal jargon that swim before my eyes.

My vision blurs.

I can't process any of it.

All I can see is Daniel lying in that hospital bed.

I grip the pen tighter. Ethan watches me, completely at ease. Like he's done this before. Like he knows how this ends.

I press the pen to paper and scrawl my name.

Isabella Hart.

Done.

I drop the pen like it burns me. My pulse pounds so hard I feel dizzy. "There. Now release the funds."

Ethan picks up the contract, scanning it like he already knows every word. He takes his time, making me sweat.

Then, he leans back, expression unreadable.

"One more thing."

A fresh wave of dread crashes over me. "What?"

"You live with me."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

His smirk deepens. "A marriage on paper won't do. I need the world to believe this is real."

No. No way.

"I have an apartment. I'll-"

"You'll move in tonight." He taps the contract. "It's in the fine print."

My stomach sinks.

I grab the pages again, scanning furiously. My pulse stutters.

He's right.

Of course, he is.

I swallow hard. "Anything else?"

Ethan stands, closing the distance between us. His presence is overwhelming. His scent, rich leather and expensive whiskey, fills my senses.

He reaches out, his fingers tilting my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His touch is light but commanding.

"You belong to me now, Isabella."

My breath catches.

His grip isn't tight, but it's firm. Possessive. Like he's already claimed me.

I jerk back, my pulse racing. "I don't belong to anyone."

Ethan just chuckles.

"We'll see."

My hands tremble as I snatch the contract off the desk. I feel trapped, caged.

I made a deal with the devil.

And there's no way out.