HIS TO RUIN: A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

"You have to get married."

Abigail Salvador’s heart stopped mid-beat. She blinked, certain she had misheard her father’s words. “What?”

Lucas Elijahsat in his worn-out leather chair, his frail hands gripping the edges of his desk. His tired eyes, once filled with warmth, now carried a heaviness that sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re getting married, Abigail. It’s the only way.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, you’re not doing this to me.”

Her mother, seated beside him, reached for her hand. “Abi, listen...”

“Listen?” Her voice cracked as she yanked her hand away. “You want me to listen while you sell me off like some commodity?”

Lucas sighed, his face pale. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Abigail snapped, her pulse hammering in her ears. “Because to me, it sounds like you’re handing me over to the highest bidder.”

“Edward Dante isn’t just any man.”

She laughed bitterly. “You mean the ruthless billionaire? The one who destroys people without blinking?”

“He’s willing to help us.” Her father’s voice wavered, but his gaze remained firm. “His offer is clear. He’ll settle our debts, keep the business afloat, and ensure we don’t lose everything.”

“At what cost?” she whispered.

A deafening silence followed.

Abigail turned to her mother, pleading. “Mom… please. Tell me you don’t agree with this.”

Tears brimmed in Mariana Salvador’s eyes. “I don’t want this for you, mi amor. But we have no choice.”

Abigail’s stomach churned. “There’s always a choice.”

“No, there isn’t,” her father cut in, his voice laced with frustration. “The creditors are closing in. The hospital bills are piling up. Do you think I want this? Do you think I enjoy seeing my daughter forced into something like this?” He coughed violently, his body trembling from the strain.

Abigail rushed to his side instinctively, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Dad...”

He grabbed her hands, his grip weak but desperate. “I won’t be here much longer, Abi.” His voice softened. “And when I’m gone, who will protect you? Who will protect Sophia?”

She flinched at the mention of her younger sister.

Lucas sighed. “Edward can. He will.”

Abigail bit her lip, her mind racing. “Why me? Why not some business merger? Why a marriage?”

Her father exhaled sharply. “Because Edward demanded it.”

A chill ran down her spine. “He demanded it?”

“He wants a wife,” Lucas continued. “One who won’t ask questions. One who will stand beside him and keep the press from digging too deep into his affairs.”

“An obedient little trophy,” Abigail spat.

Mariana reached for her again, her hands trembling. “He’s not asking you to love him, Abi. Just to be his wife… for a year.”

A year.

Abigail swallowed hard. “And then what? What happens after a year?”

Lucas hesitated before speaking. “Then the contract ends, and you’ll be free.”

She laughed dryly. “Free? Do you really believe that? No one walks away from Edward Dante unscathed.”

“Please,” Mariana whispered. “Don’t make this harder.”

Abigail looked between her parents...the mother who had spent years sacrificing everything for her daughters, the father who had once stood as a pillar of strength but was now withering before her eyes.

She clenched her fists. “If I say no?”

Lucas lowered his gaze. “Then we lose everything.”

Abigail felt the walls closing in. Her chest tightened as panic clawed at her ribs. She wanted to scream, to run, to escape this nightmare.

Instead, she forced herself to breathe.

“I need time.”

Lucas nodded. “You have until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. As if twenty-four hours could change the inevitable.

She turned on her heel, ignoring the tears burning her eyes. “I need air.”

She stormed out of the room, barely registering her mother’s voice calling after her.

Abigail barely noticed the autumn breeze as she walked aimlessly through the neighborhood, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear and fury.

Marriage. To Edward Dante.

The man whose name sent shivers down people’s spines.

She had seen his face before...in news articles, business magazines, whispered conversations at high-end social events. He was as powerful as he was untouchable. A man who built his empire on ruthless ambition and merciless deals.

And now, he wanted her.

Her stomach twisted at the thought.

A sleek black car pulled up beside her, its tinted window rolling down. A familiar voice cut through the night.

“You’re making this difficult, Abigail.”

Her breath hitched.

Edward Dante.

She turned slowly, her eyes meeting his piercing blue gaze. Even in the dim streetlight, his presence was overwhelming. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, an aura of control that suffocated everything in its path.

Abigail’s heart pounded. “What do you want?”

Edward smirked. “You already know the answer.”

She folded her arms. “You think you can buy me?”

His expression remained unreadable. “No, Abigail. I think I already have.”

She bristled. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“You will.” He leaned back against the seat, watching her. “Because you don’t have a choice.”

Her nails dug into her palms. “I have plenty of choices.”

His smirk deepened. “Then why are you out here, pacing like a caged animal?”

Abigail clenched her jaw. “I came to clear my head.”

Edward tilted his head slightly, studying her. “And? Is it clear now?”

“No.”

“Then let me help.”

She scoffed. “Help? You’re the reason I’m stuck in this mess.”

His gaze darkened. “No, Abigail. Your father is.”

Her stomach dropped.

Edward continued, his voice calm but cold. “Lucas Elijahmade a deal. He gambled. He lost. And now, you’re the collateral.”

Rage surged through her veins. “You talk about me like I’m a damn property.”

“Would you rather I lie?” He leaned forward, his voice lower, sharper. “Would you rather I pretend that this is some fairytale romance? That I’m swept off my feet by your beauty and charm?”

Abigail’s breath hitched.

Edward smirked. “No, sweetheart. That’s not how this works.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And what do I get out of this? What’s in it for me?”

His expression softened, just a fraction. “Your family survives.”

She hated how her body reacted to his words’ to the finality of them.

Edward exhaled, glancing at his watch. “You have until tomorrow. But let’s be honest…” His gaze met hers, unwavering. “You already know what your answer will be.”

The window rolled up, and the car drove off, leaving Abigail standing there, breathless and shaken.

Tomorrow.

She had until tomorrow to decide the course of her life.

But deep down, she already knew, Edward was right.

She had no choice at all.