BOUND BY THE BILLIONAIRE

The city never slept, and neither did desperation.

Claire Adams' heart pounded as she dashed through the darkened alleyway, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The loaf of bread clutched in her trembling fingers felt heavier than it should-a crime she never wanted to commit but had no choice. Her mother was starving. She was starving. And the world had long since turned its back on them.

The wail of sirens sliced through the air, sending ice down her spine. She ducked behind a stack of crates, hoping, praying. But the universe had never been kind to her.

Bright headlights suddenly flooded the alley, blinding her. A sleek black car screeched to a halt, and before she could react, a pair of strong hands seized her arms.

"Let me go!" she struggled, but the grip was unrelenting.

A door swung open, and she was shoved inside. The moment it slammed shut, silence engulfed her. No sirens. No escape. Only the scent of leather and power thickening the air.

And then she saw him.

Damian Blackwood.

The ruthless billionaire. The man who owned the city's breath. His piercing steel-gray eyes regarded her with calculated interest, like a predator studying his prey. He was the kind of rich that made people untouchable. Dangerous.

"Miss Adams," he murmured, voice smooth as silk but carrying the weight of authority. "You've been very reckless tonight."

Claire's throat went dry. She knew who he was. Everyone did. But why was he here?

"I didn't mean to steal," she whispered. "I-"

"You did." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, exuding quiet menace. "And from my store, no less."

Her stomach twisted.

He let the silence stretch, the tension suffocating. "Tell me, Miss Adams, do you know what happens to thieves?"

Her pulse thundered. She had heard the stories. If the law didn't break you, the city's elite did.

"I have no money," she admitted, voice barely audible. "But I'll pay you back. I swear."

His lips curled into something resembling amusement. "Oh, you will."

The car slowed, turning through grand iron gates, and her breath caught in her throat. The Blackwood Estate.

Fear coiled in her gut. "Where are you taking me?"

The door opened before he could answer, and she was led into the kind of wealth she'd only seen in magazines. Gilded chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting golden light over the marble floors. But the opulence did nothing to thaw the coldness in the air.

A woman stood at the top of the grand staircase.

Eleanor Blackwood.

She was breathtaking-flawless porcelain skin, icy blue eyes, and a dress that clung to her like sin itself. But there was something else beneath the beauty. Something venomous.

"This is the girl?" Eleanor's voice was a whisper of disdain.

"She is," Damian confirmed, his expression unreadable.

Claire looked between them, confusion twisting inside her. "What do you want from me?"

Eleanor descended, slow and deliberate. "You see, darling," she said, tone laced with condescension, "I have no interest in ruining my body with pregnancy cause I can't stand losing this perfect body of mine"

Claire's stomach dropped. No.

Eleanor smirked, stepping closer. "But my husband requires an heir."

Blood roared in Claire's ears. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm very serious." Eleanor's nails traced the curve of her collarbone, her amusement evident. "And you? You have two options."

Claire turned to Damian, desperation clawing at her. "You're just going to let her say this?"

His gaze didn't waver. "I'm the one making the offer."

Her breath hitched. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"Option one," Eleanor continued, enjoying every moment. "You rot in prison for the next ten years."

Claire felt the walls closing in.

"Option two," Eleanor whispered, leaning in close, "you carry our child."

Everything inside her screamed run. But there was no escape.

Claire clenched her fists, nausea rising. "This isn't a choice. It's a trap." She thought aloud.

Eleanor's smirk deepened. "Then by all means, darling. Walk away. See if the police still have mercy."

Claire's body trembled. If she went to prison, her mother would die alone. But if she agreed to this?

Damian's gaze bore into her, unreadable. Dangerous.

Was this a business deal to him? Or something more twisted?

She took a shaky breath. "And if I agree?"

Eleanor's lips curled in satisfaction. "Then you will live here. You will be cared for. And when the child is born, you will leave."

Claire swallowed hard. "And my mother?"

Damian tilted his head. "She will be taken care of. Medical bills covered. Comfort ensured."

It sounded too easy. Too convenient. But the alternative? It was unthinkable.

"Do I have a choice in... in how this happens?" Her voice wavered.

Eleanor laughed softly. "Oh, sweetheart. The choice was never yours."

Claire felt her world spin as the weight of their proposition crashed down on her.

She had no choice.

But she had to make one.

Her vision blurred as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. The adrenaline, the fear-it was all too much. She swayed on her feet.

Damian's hands were suddenly on her arms, steadying her. His touch was warm, firm. "Sit down," he commanded, leading her to an opulent chair by the fireplace.

She sank into it, too drained to protest. A butler appeared with a silver tray, setting a cup of tea before her. The scent of jasmine filled the air.

Eleanor watched with a smirk. "Drink. You'll need your strength."

Claire hesitated. "Why are you being kind now?"

Eleanor's smile never reached her eyes. "Because, darling, you belong to us now. And we take care of what's ours."

The words sent a chill down Claire's spine. She wasn't a person to them. She was a vessel. A means to an end.

Damian knelt before her, his gray eyes sharp, assessing. "Do you accept the deal, Claire?"

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. The weight of her mother's life, her own future-it all balanced on this single moment.

Claire exhaled shakily. "Yes."

Eleanor clapped her hands together, triumphant. "Wonderful."

Damian, however, didn't smile. His expression remained unreadable, as if he knew... this was only the beginning of something far more dangerous.

And Claire? She had just stepped into the lion's den, knowing there would be no way out.