Chapter Three: The Terms Of The Contract

Layla's POV

The hot water scorched my skin as I washed myself in the shower. The cascading water created a soft lap of sound. I tried to push the negative thoughts to the back of my head. My interview. Wasn't I supposed to meet with the CEO today?

Then again, not many people get married and hook up with a guy they meet for the first time the day before one. I was a wreck.

Alphonso left me to my own devices soon after. He didn't speak or do much afterward. From the vague details I was given, I knew I was in some sort of hotel room—in the Crawford Central.

When I rubbed the soap, it started to sting. There were bruises, soaked in soap and water, that mimicked my inner state every now and then. How was I supposed to find peace like this?

The plan I had was simple. I was to help Kaifer move into the apartment next door and help him hide until he earned the money he owed to the business tycoons and the mobs. I was never a part of the plan. Only an assist. How did our lives become so jumbled? How could he exchange my life for his own? And now, he was dead.

If tears rolled down my cheeks right now, no one would be able to tell. The hot water shrouded me, imitating my own agony. I was depressed.

And then, there was this marriage.

The truth was burning a hole in my conscience. I closed my eyes tight, forcing myself to remember.

"Please. Don't do this. Marry me instead. I am a virgin," I pleaded, falling to his feet. His calves were hard, and his gaze... stern. They bore into my soul and left me more scared.

"Fine, if that's what you desire.

But this marriage will be nothing more than an instrument of convenience.

The moment I get what I want from the other families, we will part ways.

I just want you to pretend to be my wife while my grandmother recovers from her ill health. You'll pay for your wretched brother's sins. Is that understood, Layla Chen?"

I gasped, prompting myself to open my eyes. The memories resurfaced.

There were three men there—Kaifer, him, and another one I couldn't identify. Alphonso had offered to drive me home from the club. En route, they had caught onto Kaifer.

Kaifer was tied and beaten black and blue. He looked so pale. So pathetic—tsk.

And then, he did say those awful words. "Take her in exchange for Sumin. You can make her your plaything. I'll pay your debt. Or, you can kill her," he said without flinching.

Tears rolled down my cheeks.

Then, Alphonso lifted his gun and pulled the trigger. Kaifer's face winced and stilled. Then, he turned cold. Blood pooled over as I crawled to Alphonso's feet.

Alphonso Darren was living a double life. He ran several companies in broad daylight. At night, he was a mafioso—the Don of Darren Group. He smuggled weapons and intel to the government in exchange for running a sex club.

Kaifer had loaned some money from him to run his business. And now, I was the bait he had lured in his place.

If I didn't act quickly, he would sell me to one of those people. God knows what would happen then.

My eyes jolted open as the memories resurfaced. The foggy veil was lifted as the truth became more apparent.

He was telling the truth. I did beg him to marry me. And all of this was an exchange until his grandmother recovered. I could find my escape from him as soon as that happened.

The realization made me stagger. As more water poured in, my head became clearer.

Fine then.

I would survive this. All I had to do was get out of his way and do my own thing. I wouldn't have to cross paths with him.

I would talk to him about it. After all, Alphonso Darren had no business being involved with someone like me. This was a contract marriage, after all.

***

I dried myself with one of the towels and slipped into the complimentary bathrobe that came with the room service. I stilled before unlocking the door.

How will I approach him?

Mr. Darren wasn't an easy man to negotiate with. Yet somehow, I had managed to convince him to marry me. I did come off as foolish at first. But I knew better than to cross a man like that.

Would the ideal way be to apologize first? And how would that go? I'm sorry, Mr. Darren. I'll clearly keep the distance between us. And last night was a mistake. I'll know my place.

Would that suffice?

If there was anything I knew about men like him, it was that they needed to feel powerful and important. It could be very easy to instigate or trigger them into feeling that their fragile ego was tampered with.

I couldn't take a chance. Not now. At least, not until he let me leave.

And then there was that thought.

What if he kills me too?

I gulped, and my toes curled. I watched my pale reflection in the mirror. Golden hair, pale skin, and scared blue eyes. All of this because of a man. Just when did I let a man control how I feel? Especially when I had done nothing wrong. Except, maybe… marry him?

With courage, I opened the bathroom door and entered the suite. It was a big one with three rooms. The one where we spent the night was a honeymoon suite. Everything about the place was sensuous.

Red curtains lined the windows. The sheets were silky. And the king-size bed was adorned with rose petals. For some reason, I had missed it all. Maybe because of the drinks and the drugs. I looked around to find a stand.

My cheeks turned red immediately. Stacks of condoms and flavored lube lined it. Most of it was untouched.

What kind of hotel was this?

I slipped into the slippers and searched for Mr. Darren. As I kept walking, his voice became clearer.

"Mr.—"

Before I could say more, I heard him talking. I crept from a corner and peeked at his silhouette. He was on the phone with someone.

He had slipped into a plain black tee with matching black sweatpants. He didn't look scary now. Just… normal. Like other people. Not an untouched, dangerous Don who killed people and bathed in pleasure.

I shoved the thought back in my head. It was too dumb to let my guard down now.

"What are you talking about, honey? No—

Of course. I'll see you tonight. We can do it for three hours.

She isn't even that important. I only married her for collateral.

She... wasn't even a good lay. She's a virgin. I only love one woman, and you know it," he said on the phone.

My heart dropped.

"Layla Chen is a joke," he added, with utter disgust. My insides clenched.

I fought the urge to throw up, turning around to walk away. Just then, he stopped talking.

Shit.

I could see him look at me furiously from the corner of my eye.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"Not long. I realized I'd come later, Mr. Darren," I said, and he ended the call. Almost abruptly.

"Do you need something? Maybe breakfast?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower.

He could just drop the act.

"I was here to tell you that I remember the night before," I said, fighting the urge to cry.

How could he talk so loosely about a woman? Needless to say, I didn't expect much from him. But even then. I was a joke to him.

"Well..." His lips pressed together.

"I'll stay out of your way. I'm supposed to show up at an interview at twelve today.

Since we're going to part ways after your grandmother recovers..." I gulped. "Wouldn't it be great if I could do my own thing? I'll be leaving soon. My apartment is nearby," I said.

He scoffed.

He looked at me with disdain before closing the distance between us.

"You've got to be kidding me," he grunted. He lifted my chin to meet my gaze.

"Were you crying?" he asked, and I couldn't help but look away.

"It's the soap," I argued. "I don't normally need permission to do what I want. But I know better than to make you angry," I said, standing my ground.

"I thought you'd be like your brother. Then again, there's no telling if all of this is an act. Or not," he chuckled.

"Little Dove, you can go for that interview. A Darren values money. Wherever it comes from.

But it's for your own good. Once I'm done with you, I won't even care whether you live or die. Better make a living while you still can.

You can leave," he said, turning away.