Chapter 2 THE TRAFFIC DEAL
ARIA
“You know this is human trafficking, right?” I demanded, staring straight into Adrian’s dark eyes.
I threw every bit of anger I had left into those words, trying to chip away at his calm facade.
“And the last time I checked, that is still highly illegal. Even for billionaires.”
Adrian didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he took another step forward, completely invading my personal space.
A slow, sinister smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It didn’t reach his eyes.
His height completely eclipsed mine. Up close, the sheer, suffocating magnetism of his presence made my breath hitch.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked. My voice faltered, and I hated the tremor in my hands.
Our eyes locked. For a split second, the air between us felt heavy enough to shatter.
“Offering you a way out,” he said. His tone was shockingly conversational despite the chaos erupting across the church.
He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a smaller, black file.
He held it out between us. His fingers brushed against mine for a fraction of a second.
A sharp, electric jolt shot straight up my arm. I pulled back slightly, my heart racing a dangerous rhythm against my ribs.
Adrian smirked, tracking my reaction.
"Sign this," he stated smoothly. "And you will save yourself from the shame of walking out of your own wedding in handcuffs for a corporate fraud you had absolutely no part in."
He leaned an inch closer.
"Twelve months, Aria. That is all I am asking for. You play the role of the perfect, devoted wife. You attend the galas, the seminars, and the charity conferences by my side as my partner. What do you say?"
I stared at him, my mouth dropping open.
The man was profoundly delusional. What on earth made him think I would spend a single second in his presence, let alone an entire year of my life?
I would rather rot in the depths of hell than become his trophy wife. And on my way down, I would make absolutely sure to drag that spineless bastard Thomas down with me.
“Mr. Cole,” I said, my voice turning to ice. “What makes you think I’ll agree to this? Stop wasting your time and call the police. I am not marrying you. Not in this life. Not in the next.”
He chuckled. The rich, low sound vibrated right through my chest, making my skin flush against my will.
“I thought you might say that. Which is why I prepared this.”
He pulled another document from his jacket.
“This is enough evidence to extend your father’s jail term by fifteen years.”
“That evidence is fabricated! My father is innocent and you know it!” I shouted, the panic finally breaking through my wall.
He stepped closer until we were barely an inch apart. The scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne completely wrapped around my senses, making my head spin.
He leaned in, whispering directly into my ear. His warm breath sent a frustrating shiver running straight down my spine.
“You may be right, darling. But the court only recognizes one thing: hard facts. And this is very concrete evidence."
He stayed close, his gaze dropping to my lips for a heartbeat before snapping back to my eyes.
"I also heard your mother’s next treatment is due tomorrow. Two million dollars. That’s a massive amount for a family with frozen assets. How do you plan to pay it?”
His words pierced straight through my chest.
He wasn't just threatening me. He was studying me, tracking every ragged breath I took.
“So, which will you choose? Join your father in prison for breach of contract, let your mother's care get terminated... or sign the contract and benefit greatly from it?"
“You’re a psychopath,” I breathed, my chest heaving.
“No, I'm efficient. Your clock is ticking, Aria. If you haven’t made a choice by the time I count down, I will make it for you. Five. Four. Three. Two...”
“Fine,” I whispered.
“What did you say?” Adrian asked with a devilish grin, clearly relishing the moment. He leaned lower, forcing me to look up into his striking face.
Fine. I would play by their rules.
If Adrian wanted a wife, I would give him one. But I was going to make sure he regretted the day he bought me.
“Let’s say I agree,” I said suspiciously. “What exactly is in it for me?”
Adrian motioned to one of his security guards, who stepped forward with a heavy briefcase.
“Inside is a check for five million dollars, an immediate wire transfer to your mother's hospital, and a signed retainer for the best appellate lawyers in the country to take over your father’s case," Adrian stated smoothly.
"Furthermore, I will personally ensure your ex-groom is prosecuted for grand larceny and fraudulent misrepresentation. He will rot in a cell for forging your signature."
Beside me, Thomas froze.
I could hear the literal clattering of his teeth from two steps away.
“Baby, you can’t do this to me," Thomas stammered, reaching out. "I have stood by you through thick and thin! Remember when your house was mortgaged? You stayed at my place...”
“You only let me stay in your house because you wanted to get into my bed,” I spat back, cutting him off.
At the mention of Thomas touching me, Adrian’s jaw ticked violently. A dangerous, sudden tension locked the side of his face.
What is his problem? Why does he look so furious about Thomas?
“And when I refused," I continued, "you kicked me out under the pretense of finding me a 'more comfortable' hotel. That exact same night, you brought Tanya, my best friend, to your bed. So tell me, Thomas, why should I give a damn about you?”
“Because... because... you were supposed to marry me just now!”
“Look at yourself, Thomas," I said coldly, looking down at him. "You sold me out the moment things got tough. You and I both know this union was a business transaction, and you just proved how worthless your word is.”
Thomas went completely berserk.
“Aria, you are foolish and selfish! You think because you found a richer man, you get to treat me like trash? But I know you. You don’t have the stomach for this. You can’t bear to hurt me. I see it in your eyes. You still love me!”
The idiot truly didn't know me at all.
Screw Thomas.
Screw this wedding.
“Time to put an end to this charade,” I said clearly.
I snatched the pen and the file right out of Adrian’s hands, scribbling my signature in jagged, angry strokes.
“Here, honey,” I said to Adrian.
I handed the folder back, stepped close, and deliberately linked my arm through his.
I pressed my body tightly against his side, feeling the hard, rigid muscles underneath the expensive fabric of his suit. Adrian went completely rigid at the unexpected touch, his breath catching sharply in his throat.
“Let’s go home," I said, making sure my voice carried across the silent chapel. "And while we're leaving, make sure your men handle Thomas.”
Adrian didn’t smile. He just stared down at the jagged signature drying on the page, his grip tightening around the folder until his knuckles turned white.
When he finally looked down at me, his dark eyes didn't hold victory.
They held a terrifying emptiness that sends chills down my spine, yet beneath the coldness, a strange, burning heat flares up between us.
He doesn't break our locked arms.
Instead, he leans down slowly, his lips almost brushing my ear once more. His voice is a freezing whisper that makes my heart skip a beat.
"You think you won a prize, Aria," he murmurs. His fingers dig into my arm with a bruising, possessive force. "But you just signed your soul over to the devil. And trust me... I never let my property go."
