The signature

I signed my life away with a shaking hand.

The pen felt heavy as I wrote my name on the marriage contract. At twentytwo years old, I had just become Mrs. Victor Langford. I was now the wife of a fifty eight years old billionaire. The thought made my stomach twist with deep regret. I should not have done this. I felt sick just thinking about it. But my family needed the money so badly. I had no other choice.

The lawyers quickly gathered their papers. “Everything is complete, Mr. Langford,” one of them said.

Victor gave a short nod. He looked tall and powerful in his dark suit. His face showed no emotion at all.

“Welcome to your new life, Ava,” he said in a cold voice. “You saved your family. Remember that.”

I kept my eyes down on the table. “Thank you,” I whispered. My voice sounded weak and small.

Victor checked his expensive watch. “I have a business dinner tonight. Do not wait up. Sleep in the master bedroom. I will come to you when I want you.”

I bit my lip hard. The idea of him touching me later made me feel sick to my stomach. An old man who was old enough to be my father. I had sold my body to him. “Okay,” I said quietly.

He turned and left without another word. The heavy door closed behind him with a loud click. I was completely alone in this huge penthouse.

I walked slowly through the rooms. Everything was so expensive. Marble floors shone under my feet. Beautiful furniture filled every space. Giant windows showed the bright lights of New York City far below. It looked perfect from the outside, but I felt trapped. This was not my home. This was my prison.

Tears filled my eyes as I thought about what I had done. I sold myself to an old man I did not love. I gave up my freedom, my dreams, and my future for money. The shame sat heavy in my chest like a rock. I kept asking myself the same question over and over. How did my life come to this?

I went into the master bathroom. It was bigger than my old apartment. I took a long hot shower. The water ran over my skin, but it could not wash away my guilt. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I still felt dirty. After the shower, I dried my body and put on a sheer black silk robe I found in the closet. The thin material felt too revealing. It clung to my body and barely covered my thighs. I felt exposed and uncomfortable, but I had nothing else to wear.

I stepped onto the wide balcony. Cool night air touched my skin. I held the glass railing tightly and stared at the glittering skyline. So many lights. So many people living normal lives. But here I was, alone and married to a man I barely knew.

“Why did I agree to this?” I said softly to myself. “He is old enough to be my father. I feel so dirty. I feel like a whore.”

I stayed outside for a long time. The cold wind made me shiver, but I did not want to go back inside. I kept thinking about Victor’s cold eyes and the way he spoke to me like I was just another business deal. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them away quickly.

At two in the morning, the private elevator chimed.

My heart jumped in my chest. Victor must have returned early. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked back into the living room. My legs felt weak.

Heavy footsteps came closer. A tall, powerfully built man stepped into the room. He wore a tailored black suit that fit his body perfectly. Dark hair, stormy gray eyes, and a sharp jaw. Tattoos showed at his open collar. He looked strong, dangerous, and very handsome.

His eyes moved slowly over my body. He stared at the sheer robe that hid almost nothing. Hunger and disgust filled his gaze at the same time.

“So you are the new stepmother,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “My father’s latest purchase.”

I took a small step back. My cheeks burned with fresh shame. “Who are you?” I asked quietly.

“Damien Langford,” he answered. “Victor’s son. And you?”

“I am Ava,” I said softly. “Ava Langford now.”

Damien gave a cold laugh. “Ava Langford. How much did my father pay for a young wife like you? Tell me the price.”

I looked down at the floor. I did not want to answer that. The words hurt too much. “Please,” I whispered. “I do not want any trouble. Just leave me alone.”

He walked closer. I backed up until my back touched the cold glass railing. He was so tall. He towered over me.

“Stay away from me,” I said in a small voice. My hands trembled at my sides.

“Why should I stay away?” he asked. “You married my father for his money. Now you stand here in this tiny robe like you are waiting for him. Does it make you feel good to be his whore?”

Tears stung my eyes again. “You do not understand,” I said. My voice shook badly. “My family was going to lose everything. We were going to be on the street. I had no choice. I feel sick about it every single day. I hate myself for doing this.”

Damien stepped even closer. His body heat reached me through the thin robe. “Look at me, Ava.”

I slowly lifted my eyes. His stormy gray eyes burned into mine. I felt trapped by his stare.

He tilted my chin up with rough fingers. His touch sent a strange spark through my body. I hated it. I should not feel anything like this. Not after what I had done.

“You are trembling,” he said. “Are you scared of me, stepmother?”

“Please let me go,” I whispered. “This is wrong. You should not touch me like this. I am married to your father.”

His thumb brushed slowly across my lower lip. The touch felt too intimate. My breath became fast and shallow. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Damien leaned in closer. His face was only inches from mine. His voice dropped even lower. “Answer me one thing, Ava.”

I could not speak. I just stared at him, frozen in place.