Chapter 3

Diva's point of view 

“Follow me,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

And before I even realized it, my feet were obeying. Moving against my will. As though his voice carried chains that wrapped around my ankles.

I trailed him down the stairs, every step heavier than the last, until we reached the garage. He strode toward a sleek black SUV parked in the shadows like a predator waiting to pounce.

My breath hitched.

He pulled the door open, and I slid into the backseat, my body trembling, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard I swore he could hear it.

Where was he taking me?

To kill me?

To sell me off?

Dear God—what if he was an organ harvester?

Panic clawed at my chest. My hands itched to reach for the door, to fling it open and run before it was too late. After all, no contract had been signed yet—nothing bound me to him. I could still escape.

But then another voice rose inside me, fierce, merciless.

Don’t you dare.

This contract is the only thread keeping your mother alive. This man—this stranger—is the only lifeline you have left.

If I let this slip away, if I bolt now… my mother is finished.

And worse, he’d be right.

She would never forgive me.

I dragged in a deep breath, whispering inwardly, “Anything for you, Mama.”

He slid the key into the ignition, the engine roared to life, and without another word, he drove off.

Through the tinted glass of the SUV, I caught a glimpse of the hospital.

Fate had struck so suddenly that I hadn’t even had the chance to speak to my mother.

She would undoubtedly protest—always wanting me by her side, especially given her fragile condition. But there was no arguing this time; there was no choice.

The silence was suffocating, pressing down on me until my thoughts grew louder than the sound of the car. Every bump on the road rattled my chest, every second stretched like an eternity.

And then, we stopped.

When I looked out, my eyes widened in disbelief.

De Baron’s Construction Company.

My lips parted, but no sound came out. Of all places… here?

Did he work here?

For a moment, my chest tightened with an ache I hadn’t felt in years. I remembered the countless times I had applied here—applications sent, interviews attended, rejections received. Two years wasted since graduation, two years of hope crushed under polite words that said nothing but no.

I had studied accountancy because my father wanted it—because he had dreamed of seeing me with a respectable, steady career. A chartered accountant, not an actress. His dream, not mine. And I had obeyed, because I was a dutiful daughter.

But deep down, I had always wondered—was this why my life had been one endless rejection? Was the universe punishing me for ignoring the fire in my soul, the dream to act, to live my truth? Or was I just delusional?

“Won’t you come out?”

His voice thundered, slicing through my thoughts like a whip. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat.

I pushed the door open and stepped out, my knees shaky beneath me.

Good Lord.

The place was alive with movement, buzzing with sharp-dressed staff, polished cars, clipped voices, and the unmistakable air of power. It wasn’t just a company—it was a kingdom. And he… he was walking straight into it, like he owned the ground beneath his feet.

I swallowed hard, heat crawling up my neck.

What exactly had I walked into?

<Few minutes later>

He pulled out a sheet of paper, slid it across the polished table toward me, and said coolly,

"That’s the contract document. Sign it."

Then he leaned back in his chair, settling in as though the matter was already decided.

My fingers curled around the pen, but when the tip hovered above the paper, my hand froze. My chest tightened. Slowly, I let the pen drop.

"I haven’t told you my own rules yet," I said, forcing my voice steady.

He chuckled—dry, mocking. "Rules? Are you the one paying me, or am I paying you? You don’t get to set rules. I make them, because I’m the one buying your time."

I swallowed hard, shame burning inside me, but I pressed on. "Then at least let me know who you are."

His eyes darkened. "I don’t think that’s necessary."

Not necessary? My chest heaved with disbelief.

"Then there’s no need to enter a blind contract like this. How do you expect me to sign my life away to someone I don’t even know his name, his family, nothing?" My voice rose, raw with anger.

That was when his mask cracked. His eyes narrowed, his tone turned sharp, venomous.

"Stop acting like a wife already. You’re only a contracted wife."

The words cut deep, colder than ice.

I snapped. My hand slammed against the table. "Then I don’t want this anymore!" I spat, pushing to my feet and storming toward the door.

But before I could touch the handle, his voice lashed through the room, hard, commanding—echoing against the walls like thunder.

"I’m Julius Baron. Son of the CEO of this company."

I froze, the name crashing into me like a tidal wave.

Wait a minute… he’s the son of the owner of this company?

The Julius I’ve always heard people whisper about?

My heart skipped. How could I have not recognized him sooner?

I spun around, my voice trembling. “You’re… Julius?”

He leaned back in his chair, smug satisfaction painted across his face. “At least you’ve finally gotten what you wanted, right?”

I froze, my mind racing. Then it struck me—of course. That’s why every staff member had bowed and greeted him with such respect when we walked in.

Goodness.

He’s that Julius.

The rich, untouchable heir. The arrogant man who acts like the whole world belongs to him.

And now… I was tied to him.

"So are you going to come sign the contract and stop wasting my time?" His words dripped with condescension, every syllable pressing on my pride like a blade.

Silent, swallowing my fury, I forced my legs to carry me back to the table. My chair screeched against the floor as I sat.

Then his voice cut through the air like ice.

"This will be the last time you dare walk away. If you try again… there won’t be any room left for you here."

A shiver ran down my spine.

My fingers trembled as I picked up the pen. Pride collapsed, hope for my mother burned through my chest, and with a heavy heart, I signed my name onto the contract that would chain me to him.

"I’m done," I muttered, sliding the pen and contract back to him, my heart still hammering.

But he didn’t even glance at the paper. His eyes locked on mine, sharp and unyielding.

"One more thing."

I stiffened.

"I’m signing this contract because I’m in a competition with my brother for the heirship of this company," he said slowly, each word heavy, deliberate. “My father never wanted me to be part of it since I’m not married. That’s why I need this arrangement—to prove to him that I can settle down.”

His pause was short, suffocating, before his tone sharpened like a knife.

"And that’s exactly why I’m having this contract with you. Don’t ruin it for me… or I won’t spare you, your sister, or your mother."

The words slammed into me like thunder.

A chill shot down my spine, freezing my veins. My throat tightened as I stared at him, horrified.

He knew. He knew about my sister. Which meant… he knew my family inside out.

I wasn’t just signing a contract.

I had just signed my soul into his hands.

“Your money will be paid after the contract is over,” he said, his tone flat, final.

Hell no. My chest tightened instantly. How was I supposed to wait? I needed that money now—to clear my mother’s debts, to keep her dialysis running, to give her a chance at surgery. Every second counted for her, but to him, it was just business.

“I—” I tried to speak, desperation clawing at my throat.

“I’ll foot the bills for dialysis until the end of the contract,” he cut me off, his voice sharp, leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, I froze. Was this… a lifeline or another trap?

My heart twisted. What if he didn’t keep his word after the contract was over? What if all this was just another cruel game to him?

Then he released another bombshell that left me breathless: “The wedding is taking place in two days time. Go get yourself prepared.”

In two days? 

No. No. No. No.