Chapter 2

Emily's POV:

"Tell me he's lying." I was practically begging for this to be some twisted joke but David didn’t look at me. 

He just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck like my breakdown was an inconvenience. "He’s not lying, Em. I thought I could flip the money. It was a sure thing..."

"Shut up!" I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. "You staked me? Like I’m a piece of property to trade off for a fucking bet?"

He flinched but stayed silent. 

“You lost.” Ethan said, turning to David. “You didn’t bring in the money, and you didn’t bring her to me. So I’ve come to collect what’s mine.”

I looked between the two men, one who had ruined my life and the other who now claimed to own it, and I felt something inside me snap. 

"I’m not David's property, so he doesn't have the right to sell me off." When he didn’t respond, I turned to leave, ready to walk out of the apartment. 

But before I could even take a full step toward the door, one of Ethan’s suited goons blocked my path. "Move." I snarled but he didn’t flinch.

Ethan, ever the smug bastard, stepped forward and tossed a brown envelope toward me. It hit my chest then fell to the ground. “What’s that?” I asked, not moving.

“A contract, signed by you.” He replied. “It states that you agreed to become mine until David pays his debt.”

With trembling fingers, I picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers. And yep, there it was, my name in that familiar cursive swirl I always used when I was trying to be fancy.

But I never signed anything like this. Never.

And then it hit me. 

A month ago, David had begged me to sign a guarantor form for a 'business loan.' We’d had a massive fight, he’d stormed out, and when I tracked him down at a sketchy motel, he promised he was done betting, and I, like a fool, signed the paperwork to save him. 

“This was signed under duress.” I argued, tossing the paper back to him. “I’ll go to a lawyer.”

“You could.” Ethan said calmly. “But I own half of New York, Emily. And the other half fears me so if you try anything funny, I can easily make you disappear.”

“Then I'll go to the police.”

"Look outside." Ethan murmured, tilting his head toward the balcony. "You can cause a scene, call the police, or let your neighbors watch a squad car turn up. But I own half of New York, Emily. By tomorrow morning, the charges will vanish, and you'll still be in my debt. So, what’s the option? Make a spectacle, or come quietly?"

I looked out the window. The pigeons on the railing were basically our neighbors, already whispering. I was broke. My savings were gone. If I fought him here, I’d lose brutally. Going with him was the only way to contain the damage until I figured a way out.

"Fine." I bit out, my jaw aching from tension. "Let me pack my things."

"There is no need." Ethan replied smoothly, heading for the door. "The house is already stocked with everything you will require."

A shiver chased its way down my spine. ‘Stocked?’ How long had he been planning this?

The drive to his mansion was a blur, when the iron gates clicked shut behind us, revealing a massive, white-stone fortress, I felt the walls of my new prison closing in. As soon as the heavy front doors shut, leaving us alone in a vaulted living room, Ethan turned around.

"Here are the rules." He said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. "You will no longer work at the hotel. You will not leave the estate premises. And any contact you make with the outside world goes through my security team."

"Are you insane?" I lost it, my anger finally boiling over. "I agreed to come to settle the debt, not to be locked up like a dog in a cage! What do you even want from me? You're a billionaire, you can buy anyone!"

Ethan’s gaze didn’t waver. "Let's get one thing clear, Emily. I don’t want sex from you. I am not asking you to please me. I just want you here, living under my roof, and eating your meals with me. That is all."

I raised an eyebrow, utterly bewildered. "Seriously? That's it?"

"That is all." he repeated coldly. "Your room is at the top of the stairs."

That night, I sat on the edge of a bed that cost more than my entire life savings, staring at my phone. Then I immediately went down a G****e rabbit hole, researching Ethan Langford.

Page after page of business headlines popped up but I found nothing helpful other than him being “in a committed relationship” but never calling names. However, for the past six months, he hasn’t mentioned his fiancee at all, unlike before, when he talked about her all the time.

Made me wonder. 

Was that why I was here? Because he lost someone and was feeling lonely?

Suddenly, my phone buzzed and I glanced up to see that it was David calling. "You are a pathetic, miserable coward." I hissed into the receiver as soon as I swiped answer.

"Do you hear me? We are done. I am divorcing your useless ass the second I get out of this hellhole. Never call me again."

"Emily, please! Just listen…" I slammed the end button and immediately blocked the number, my hands shaking with pure rage.

Needing a voice of sanity, I called Clara. The moment she answered, I broke down and told her everything.

"Are you kidding me?!" Clara’s voice screeched through the line, accompanied by the sound of her crying. "Em, why did you go with him? We should have caused a massive scene at the apartment! Called the news channels! A billionaire’s reputation cannot survive a public kidnapping scandal!"

"Clara, think." I whispered, glancing nervously at the bedroom door. "If I tank his image, he has the power to make me disappear. Permanently."

"But if anything happens to you, he’d be the prime suspect!" Clara argued frantically. "It would ruin his billionaire-philanthropist brand! He wouldn't risk it."

"If my only leverage is that his image goes down after I'm dead, Clara, I still end up dead.” I countered. "Why should I die just to prove a point? I need to stay alive. I'll find a solution from the inside."

We talked for another ten minutes until she received a call from her mom. After we hung up, I stared at the ceiling, trying to force my racing mind to sleep.

Around 2:00 AM, my phone buzzed again but it was an unknown number. "Emily, don't hang up! Please!" David's breathless voice cut through the line.

"I told you to go to hell, David.” I snapped, spitting out the words.

"Just listen to me for one minute! It was a setup, Emily! It was Ethan's manager, Xavier, who approached me at the casino and offered me twenty-two million!"

I scoffed, my grip tightening on the phone. “You took the money, David."

"Yes, but he pushed the collateral! I told him I didn't have anything left to stake, and Xavier explicitly said, 'What about your wife? My boss wants her.' I didn't understand it then. Why would a billionaire want a receptionist?" David was panting, his voice cracking with fear. "But I dug into it, Em. I found out why."

A sickening feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. "Why, David?"

"His fiancee, Sophie, was presumed dead six months ago." David swallowed hard over the line, the sound loud in the quiet room. "Emily, you are her exact spitting image. You look exactly like his dead fiancee.”