Signed In Sin

The CEO's Desperate Bargain

Elara woke up to the feeling of heavy silk sheets against her naked skin and the weight of a muscular arm draped possessively over her waist.

For a moment, she forgot where she was.

Then the memories crashed into her like a tidal wave—Damien’s mouth on her breasts, his thick length stretching her until she screamed, the way he growled her name like a curse and a prayer while he came deep inside her. Her thighs still ached. Between them, she felt sticky, marked, ruined.

A soft sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.

“Regretting it already?”

Damien’s voice was rough with sleep, but there was no gentleness in it. He pulled her closer, his hard chest pressing against her back, his morning arousal nestling hot and heavy between her ass cheeks.

“Too late, little lamb. You’re mine now.”

Elara closed her eyes tightly, tears slipping down her temples.

“My mother… I need to know she’s safe.”

Damien reached for his phone on the nightstand without letting her go. He dialed a number.

“Dr. Morales. Transfer Sofia Santos to St. Luke’s VIP suite immediately. Start the experimental protocol. Money is not an issue.”

He ended the call and tossed the phone aside.

“Satisfied?”

She turned in his arms, searching his stormy gray eyes for any hint of humanity.

“Why are you doing this? You could’ve just given me the money. Why… why take me?”

His jaw clenched.

For a second, something painful flashed across his perfect face.

Then it was gone, replaced by that cold mask.

“Because I need a wife. My grandfather’s will demands it before he dies, or I lose control of Torres Global. And I need someone who has nothing to lose. Someone desperate enough not to ask questions.”

His hand slid down her body, cupping her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it hardened traitorously.

“And because I want to fuck you every night until you forget your own name.”

Elara bit back a moan as heat pooled low in her belly again. She hated how her body responded to him. She was supposed to feel used, dirty. Instead, she felt alive for the first time in years.

They showered together.

Damien washed her like he owned every inch—his large hands soaping her breasts, slipping between her legs, two thick fingers sliding inside her sore pussy while she clung to his shoulders, whimpering.

“Still so tight,”

he murmured against her wet neck, biting down.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you in.”

By the time they reached his lawyer’s office on the 60th floor, Elara’s legs were shaking. The contract was thick—twenty pages of rules, clauses, and consequences.

[She read them with trembling hands:]

•Live with Damien in his penthouse.

•Accompany him to all public events as his devoted wife.

•No contact with other men.

•Full sexual availability—anytime, anywhere.

•No falling in love.

[At the end of 365 days, she walks away with twenty million pesos and never speaks of their arrangement again.

If she breaks any term, the money stops. Her mother’s treatment ends.]

Elara’s tears fell on the paper, smudging the ink.

“You really thought of everything,” she whispered bitterly.

Damien sat across from her, legs spread, looking every inch the ruthless CEO.

“Sign it, Elara. Or walk away now and watch your mother die.”

Her hand shook so badly she could barely hold the pen. But she thought of her mother’s frail smile, her little brother’s future, and she signed. Every. Single. Page.

Damien signed after her, then pulled her onto his lap right there in front of the lawyer, who quickly excused himself.

“Good girl,”

he growled, kissing her hard, tongue invading her mouth.

His hand slipped under her skirt, pushing her lace panties aside. She was already wet. Embarrassingly so.

“Damien… not here…”

she moaned, but her hips rocked against his fingers anyway.

“Here,” he commanded. He freed his massive cock from his pants—thick, veined, already leaking—and pulled her down onto it in one brutal thrust. Elara cried out, burying her face in his neck as he stretched her again. The chair creaked violently as he fucked her hard, one hand gripping her ass, the other tangled in her hair.

“Look at me,”

he ordered. Their eyes locked. Tears streamed down her face while pleasure tore through her body.

“You belong to me now. Say it.”

“I… I belong to you,”

she sobbed, her walls clenching around him as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. Damien followed right after, filling her with hot spurts of his release, marking her from the inside once again.

Afterward, he held her while she cried against his chest. Not from pain, but from the crushing weight of what she had just sold. Her freedom. Her dignity. Maybe even her soul.

Later that afternoon, Damien took her to the hospital. Seeing her mother in a luxurious private room, color already returning to her cheeks because of the new medication, Elara broke down completely. She knelt beside the bed, holding her mother’s thin hand, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Anak… bakit parang may problema ka?”

her mother asked weakly.

Elara forced a smile through her tears.

“Wala po, Ma. Everything’s going to be okay now. I… I found a way.”

Damien stood by the door like a dark guardian, watching her. His expression was unreadable, but his fists were clenched at his sides.

That night in his penthouse—three floors of pure luxury overlooking the entire Manila skyline—Damien was different. Still dominant, still rough, but there was an edge of something else. He tied her wrists to the headboard with his silk tie and worshipped her body for hours. His mouth devoured her pussy until she came three times, screaming, begging, crying. Then he took her from behind, deep and punishing, slapping her ass while whispering filthy praises.

“You take my cock so well… such a perfect little whore for me… cry for me, Elara. Let me see how much you hate loving this.”

She came again, harder than ever, her mind blank except for him.

But as they lay in the dark afterward, Damien’s phone rang. He answered, voice ice-cold.

“What do you mean he’s making a move? … I don’t care. Crush him.”

He ended the call and stared at the ceiling. Elara felt the tension radiating from his body.

“Damien?”

she whispered, daring to touch his chest.

He grabbed her wrist, but didn’t push her away.

“My rival, Rafael Vargas. He knows about the will. If he finds out our marriage is fake, he’ll destroy everything. And he won’t hesitate to use you to get to me.”

A chill ran down Elara’s spine. Real danger. Real stakes.

She curled closer to the man who had bought her, pressing her face against his warm skin. Despite everything, she felt strangely safe in his arms.

“Then we make them believe it’s real,” she said softly. “I’ll be the best wife you ever had.”

Damien looked down at her, something unreadable in his eyes. For the first time, he kissed her forehead—almost tenderly.

But in the silence, both of them knew the truth: this bargain was built on desperation, lies, and dark desire. And it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.

End of Chapter 2