The CEO's Property

Had I just heard my mother right? An arranged marriage? It all was just getting worse and worse. “You must be joking,” I scoffed the words out. I stared at her blank expression and chuckled dryly. Yes, my parents were controlling but not this controlling. They would never push me into a loveless, stale marriage, no matter what that reason was. At least that was what I thought. “Heather, you have been alone for the past two years, it’s not healthy for you or for the family’s image,” She said to me. I used all my inner strength to stop myself from rolling my eyes out of respect for her. Even if it was about my life, my parents always had a way to make it about them. I bit her tongue back, withholding from telling my mother that I had been in a beautiful relationship with a perfect man for the past two years. If Samuel was the type of man that my parents wanted me to be in a relationship with, then I would have told them about him in a heartbeat, and this whole arranged marriage

I could not believe my eyes. My heart was thumping in my chest and my palms became sweaty as I stared into the face of the love of my life that had dumped me via a stupid rashly-written note. Deep inside, I felt joy and wanted to run to him so I could give him a bear hug but I had to keep my composure. I needed to know whether that note was just a prank or if it was actually a real thing; if he had written it for the sole purpose of kicking me out of his life. “Sammy?” I walked closer to him. His eyes confirmed that it was him. It was my Samuel. I could never forget those eyes. He was out of words. A look of incredible shock sat on his face. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds as if he wanted to make sure that he was not hallucinating. “Heather, what are you doing here? Ho-how are you even here?” I scoffed and shook her head slowly. Before speaking, I quickly took out the note that he had written me and shoved it into his chest. “You don’t get to ask the questions here. I do.

Prison? Did I hear Sterling right? But that made no sense. My parents may have not been perfect people but there was no way that they were criminals. “I don’t understand…” I said under my breath. “What do you mean by that, Sterling?” I asked him as he walked away. “I’m talking to you!” I stopped him by holding his arm. He stopped and then looked at me. A small smile played on his rosy pink lips. “Heather,” He began, his voice breathy. “I really don’t want to look like the bad guy here. So please, I’m begging you. Sign those papers.”“What did my parents do?” He gently removed my hand from his arms before responding. “I really want to tell you, but I can’t. At least not now.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’d suggest you ask your parents and if they don’t tell you, then trust that they love you and that signing those papers would be the best for your family.” He flashed me a small smile and then walked off. I stood in the living room as I tried to process it all. If this was no

“Sign them. Sign the papers.” Samuel spoke in a monotone. I could not tell whether he was disappointed or sad. He sounded almost like a robot. “But then your brother would take it all from you.” He chuckled without. “Heather, I think that’s just karma. When I had it all at my fingertips, I ran. Now that I want it all back the most, it is the furthest away.” He sniffled dryly. “So choose your parents and don’t worry about me. I would still find a way.” I let a few seconds fall before speaking. “And how about us? How about our relationship? What would become of us? Because if I sign those papers, I would be stuck in a four-year contract and I don’t think I would be allowed to see you.” “Of course, we would see each other. Sterling has a girlfriend and would no doubt keep seeing her. No why shouldn’t you be allowed to see me? It all just has to be hidden from the public’s eyes; to keep the illusion of the marriage going.”“Okay then. I guess that’s it, huh?” Yup,” He replied, poppin

The scene before me was not something that I would be forgetting anytime soon. My throat was dry like sand on a hot summer day and my eyes bulged from shock. Sterling had to pull me in his arms for me to notice that I was screaming. There on the bed lay Patty. But she was not okay. She was far from okay. She was dead; maybe even murdered from the way she looked. There was a huge kitchen knife in her chest and another one in her stomach. Tears blinded my vision for a few seconds before clearing. The sheets on the bed were soaked with blood and the room smelt like death. It was very traumatizing for Sterling and me. Soon, guards rushed into the room. They were all shocked as we were and tried their best to contain the situation. One of them called 911 and the other few entered the room with us and closed it for privacy. “Ho–how?” My voice broke. I was still sobbing. “She was okay. How did this happen?” I did not even recognize my own voice. Sterling released me from his arm and wal