Chapter 6_Deal done!

Elira’s POV

Before I could pull the paper from the envelope, his hand shot out. He was faster than he looked, his fingers clamping down on the edge of the medical file with a desperation that startled me. Instinctively, I yanked back, trying to stop him. My feet twisted and I felt myself falling backwards.

I gasped, but he didn't let go. He lunged forward to catch me, his heavy frame colliding with mine as we both slammed into the mattress.

The air left my lungs in a sharp puff. He was a solid, crushing weight on top of me, his hands braced on either side of my head. For a long moment, neither of us moved. The room was silent except for the sound of our breathing. His was harsh, hot, and uneven against my skin, while mine felt like it had stopped altogether.

Our eyes locked. His were dark, swirling with an emotion I couldn't quite read—shame, maybe? Or just raw, unfiltered hunger. I could feel the heat radiating off him, but more than that, I could feel his hard dick pressing directly against me through his trousers. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core, making my toes curl into the sheets.

He stared at me for three more seconds—seconds that felt like hours—before he abruptly pushed himself up. He stood by the bed, adjusting his suit jacket, his face returning to that cold, unreadable mask.

"I think it’s time for you to sleep," he said, his voice gravelly. "We will talk tomorrow."

I didn't wait for him to change his mind. I scrambled off the bed, and bolted out of the room. My heart was hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. By the time I reached my own room and shut the door, I was shaking.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my skin still tingling where his dick had touched me. I fanned myself with my hand, trying to cool the flush creeping up my neck. *What is wrong with you?* I scolded myself. I was supposed to hate him. I was only supposed to be using him, giving him what he wanted so I could finally get my hands on the people who ruined me. I shouldn't be thinking about the weight of his body on me or the way his breath felt on my neck.

I just needed his answer.

The next morning, I was already dressed downstairs, waiting at the dinning. I sat at the long table, picking at the lace tablecloth until I heard his heavy thud of footsteps behind me.

His footsteps stopped suddenly. I didn't turn around, but I knew he was surprised to see me there. He usually had this house to himself, and ate without me when I refused to show up. After some seconds, he continued walking, his presence filling the room as he pulled out the chair directly opposite me.

"Good morning," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the empty table in front of me.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he replied, his voice smooth and morning-deep.

"I'm here because of the deal," I cut in, finally looking up. I wanted to get this over with. I wanted him to agree.

He leaned back. "Well, that will be discussed after you eat with me."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him I wasn't hungry, but he held up a hand. "Eat, Elira. Or else the deal won't hold."

The threat worked. I snapped my mouth shut and waited as the staff brought out plates of steaming food. We ate in a heavy, stifling silence. I could barely swallow; my stomach was tied in knots. I kept glancing at him, but he was focused on his meal, looking every bit the composed billionaire who hadn't just been pinning me to a bed hours ago.

I had barely finished half my plate when he finally pushed his chair back and spoke.

"The deal will be done."

My heart leaped. I looked up, ready to speak, but he turned to one of the guards standing by the wall. "Bring me the documents."

My brows furrowed. "You have drafted the contract already?"

He looked at me, a flash of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "Sweetheart, I've had everything arranged already before you even said yes."

The guard stepped forward, placing a thick leather file in front of me. I pushed my plate aside, opening it. There it was—all the legal jargon that essentially turned me into his surrogate wife in exchange for the destruction of my enemies. I didn't read the fine print. I didn't care about the risks anymore. I grabbed the pen and scrawled my signature at the bottom.

I stood up immediately I done.

"I have another surprise for you," he interrupted.

I stopped. I heard him stand up, his footsteps circling the table until he was standing right in front of me. He gestured toward the doorway, where a woman was walking toward us.

"Miss Lena here, my personal assistant, will help you get ready," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, commanding tone. "We have somewhere to be."

I froze. I recognized that face. The blonde. The one I had seen him with before—in his bed. The small smile I had been holding onto vanished instantly. My jaw tightened as I looked from her to him.

Lena walked up, her eyes scanning me with a look that was somewhere between curiosity and hidden jealousy. She looked perfect, polished, and entirely too comfortable in his space.

He must have seen the change in my expression. He leaned in, his chest brushing against my shoulder as he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

"You don't have to be jealous, princess," he murmured, a low vibration that went straight to my thighs. "I'm all yours starting from today."