Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
This contract makes me seem desperate. I agreed to marry Samuel in exchange for him paying for all my college tuition and expenses. Not only that, but he’s also deposited twenty thousand a month into a checking account under my name, in conjunction with a ten thousand a month clothing allowance. Hell, the man even bought my car—not my father, as I believed. All receipts are attached. There’s no refuting it. I was sold to Samuel Levkin.
The marriage is for a period of five years, with an option of longer should both parties agree. The only thing that can void the contract is if Samuel physically harms me or fails to pay for the items listed. My only requirement apparently was to become his wife and agree to perform the duties he requires from a spouse, such as attending business meetings and events. I’m also to live with him after I finish my degree. All of this makes me sick to my stomach. Yet that’s not the thing that makes me want to dig my father up, bring him back to life, and kill him again. Nope. It’s the fact that the bastard agreed I would give Samuel Levkin an heir and sign over all rights to said child once it was done.
I pick up my cell and call the only person I know that might help me right now.
“Izzy?”
“I need you,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“Izzy, what’s wrong?” my brother asks.
“I’ll text you the address. Please come here.”
I hang up, immediately texting the hotel name and room info. Then I slide from the chair to the floor, hugging my legs to my chest as I cry.
I always knew my father was a monster, but I failed to realize how truly evil he was.
11
samuel
“I’m not having sex with you.”
I’ve barely walked through the door of my apartment before Isabel stands in front of it. It just takes one look to tell that she’s been crying. My gaze automatically goes to my watch. It’s after seven. She should be at work. I purposefully stayed gone all day to give her time alone to come to terms with everything. As I see the way her eyes are bloodshot, her face washed out and the pain that is easy to see on her features, it seems that was a mistake.
“Oh, you are,” I correct her. “We’re going to work on this marriage, Izzy.”
“Why? What about me would make you want to do that? When we first met, you made no secret of the fact that you disliked me.”
I purse my lips and study the woman in front of me. “You infuriated me, tested me when we first met, Izzy. That’s never been the kind of woman I thought I wanted.”
“See!” she cries.
I walk over to her, putting my hands on each side of her neck, forcing her to look at me. “Even then, I was attracted to you, Izzy. You would always come up in my thoughts. There’s something between us. I don’t think you can deny that.”
“There’s a contract between us!”
“Ignore the fucking contract. Let’s just concentrate on what we could be to one another.”
“I’m not having sex—especially with a man who is intent on knocking me up and taking my baby from me.”
I slide my thumb along the side of her cheek. “You don’t know me, but I can promise you that if you will give this a chance with me and it works, I will want you by my side until they put me in the ground. If we have kids one day, I would love for her to be strong like her mother, someone with a career that will take control of any situation—even being kidnapped and having the head of the Bratva bleeding out in front of her.”
“Sam …”
“I like you shortening my name,” I murmur, meaning it completely. My name sounds natural coming from her lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“I had a panic attack after reading that damn contract and called Danny to come over. He phoned my boss. Apparently, I have the rest of the week off.”
“Good. That gives us a week to see how good we could be together.”
“Or how bad,” she mutters.
“Optimistic, aren’t you?” I laugh.
“We could end this here,” she suggests.
“I’m thinking we go out to dinner instead. Maybe find a Christmas tree.”
“A Christmas tree?” she repeats, blinking as if she doesn’t quite believe what I just suggested.
“It’s almost Christmas, Izzy. It will be our first Christmas together. We need a tree.” She doesn’t respond. Instead, she just keeps staring at me. “Izzy?” I prompt.
“You’re a very strange man, Sam. I’m trying to tell you I have no intention of abiding by this freaking contract—that we need to go our separate ways—and you want to go shopping for a Christmas tree.”