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 b

"This is your fault, Abigail." Abigail barely made it through the day before the world came crashing down. She had seen the signs, the unpaid invoices, the unanswered calls, the desperate whispers from employees afraid to lose their jobs. But today, the truth hit like a sledgehammer. The business was collapsing. And her father… Abigail clutched the hospital report in her trembling hands as she stepped into the house. She barely had time to process it before her mother’s voice lashed out like a whip. “Are you happy now?” She looked up, startled. Mariana Elijahstood in the middle of the living room, her eyes red-rimmed, her expression twisted with grief and fury. “Mom, I…” Mariana slammed the table. “No! Don’t you dare call me that right now.” Abigail’s throat tightened. “What happened?” Her mother scoffed, shaking her head. “As if you don’t know.” Sophia sat on the couch, arms crossed, refusing to meet Abigail’s gaze. The silence in the room felt heavier than ev

Abigail’s hands trembled as she pulled the dry clothes over her body. The warmth of the fabric did little to chase away the cold settling deep in her bones. She felt hollow. Empty. Her damp hair clung to her neck as she stood in front of the mirror, staring at a woman she barely recognized. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t who she was supposed to be. And yet, here she was. A quiet knock at the door made her flinch. One of the maids poked her head in, keeping her eyes lowered. “Mr. Dante is waiting in the study.” Abigail swallowed, nodding stiffly. Her legs felt unsteady as she made her way down the long, dimly lit corridor. The house was silent, too silent, every step echoing around her like a cruel reminder of where she stood. Where she belonged now. She reached the study door, her heart hammering. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open. Edward sat behind a large mahogany desk, his posture relaxed, fingers tapping lazily against the polished surface. A glass o

"No, Edward," she said.Edward's expression grew stern. "Then you can sleep outdoors.""Might as well not," Abigail's chin firmed, her eyes sparking. "I have not arrived as your future wife to be your housekeeper."Edward inched closer, held back, dangerous, serene. "You signed the contract, Abigail."She signed it against her will."And yet, you signed. I imposed terms." He fished out and snapped the maid's outfit in her face. "Get dressed. Now."She would rather dieHe stared at her for one long, breathless moment.YesShe blinked. "What…""If you'd rather act like an animal," said Edward in a whispered tone, his honey-smooth voice over metal, "then you'll be treated as one.""What are you.""Come along." His decree brooked no argument.She stood firm.Edward gazed at her. "Or I'll carry you."Abigail gritted her teeth and followed him out of the big room, down a corridor she hadn't known existed, dark and cold, with shadows and concrete lining its walls.Where are we headed? she de

“I accept that since you're an emotionally repressed male child who has issues controlling himself.” She retorted.The maid came back again carrying her meal again, two boiled eggs, toast, and water… in identical stainless steel bowls. She let out an audible groan.She did not know whether to bark or moo, she said to herself.“Eat, you have a big day ahead of you.”“Other than you slipping off a yacht out in the Pacific, nothing interests me.”But her belly had other ideas. It rumbled so loudly, resounding.She scowled at the bowl as if it had personally offended her ancestors. She waited. Ten seconds. Thirty. A whole minute."Gross!" She doubled over theatrically and scooped up the toast in two fingers as if it were poison. "If I get dog germs and die, you're getting haunted. Every evening you'll have me clinking your wine bottles."Edward said nothing.She gave him one of her between-the-bites stares. "What? No quip? No mischievous grin? Anything at all?"He returned to his book."D