Contracted emotions

Ariana Quinn I froze, my feet rooted to the spot, as I watched movers carting away furniture from my house. What was happening? My brows furrowed in confusion when I approached the entrance. My face fell, noticing the front door wide open, the sound of furniture being moved echoing from inside. I had left for my morning jog just a few hours ago, not expecting this when I was coming back My heart sank as I rushed into the house. I stepped into the chaos, my eyes scanning the room as movers scurried about, their footsteps echoing off the walls.

Furniture was scattered everywhere, some pieces wrapped in blankets, others already loaded onto the truck. I stood there, wondering if we were moving. But that was impossible – no one had mentioned anything about moving when I arrived home last week. I watched as Stephanie, my stepmom, rushed downstairs, frantically tying the sash of her robe. She was whining and screaming, her eyes fixed on the movers carrying away her prized designer handbags. It was then that the unsettling truth hit me, we weren't moving. "Steph, what's going on?" I asked, approaching her with a mix of concern and curiosity etched on my face. Stephanie's frantic expression faltered, and she took a moment to collect herself before turning to face me. Her voice was laced with distress. "It's your father... he owes someone money." My eyes widened in shock. My dad owed someone money? That made no sense. He was wealthy, with more than enough assets. What could he possibly need borrowed money for? And who was this he owed that was doing this? "I don't understand," I whispered, my heart sinking. Everything seemed so surreal. Strangers ransacking our house, packing our stuff into brown boxes. "MOM! They're taking EVERYTHING!" I watched as Milly thundered down the stairs, her face twisted in anguish. I watched someone trail behind her, carrying a box filled with her MacBook, iPads, Smartwatches, Car keys and phones. Steph's expression was sombre as she tried to soothe Milly. "I'm sorry, honey, there's nothing I can do." But she was beyond soothing. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!" she shrieked, her voice piercing the air. Her brown hair was still tied up in a rough bun, and she was still in her nightgown, she seemed like she didn't know what was going on either. My eyes widened in horror as realization set in, and I sprinted to my room, desperately hoping they hadn't touched any of my stuff. But, of course, I was wrong. They were laying their hands on everything – every single thing in my bedroom, including my wardrobe... and- "HEY! Don't touch that!!!" I shouted, dashing over to the guy carelessly discarding my childhood framed photos. I yanked the box away from his hands, my heart racing with annoyance, he flinched in response. What could they possibly need those for? This was absurd! "I suggest you let him do his job," A deep voice said from behind me, dripping with an air of superiority. I spun around to face him, taking in his imposing figure clad in a black suit. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with an authoritative presence that was both captivating and intimidating. He wore stud earrings in both ears, his low haircut perfectly suiting him. His light skin complemented the bold blue suit in the most supercalifragilisticexpialidocious way. There's no way someone could be this beautiful. Because, Wow. Dropping the box onto the desk beside me, my eyes locked on his. To be honest, it was hard to look away. "And who are you?" I finally found words and demanded, hoping I didn't sound breathless because he was breathtaking. The kind of breathtaking that would leave Disney-animated ladies weak in the knees, feeling dizzy and faint. And no I was not exaggerating! He smirked, a sardonic glint in his eye, as he taunted me with my graduation photo frame. "Congrats on your graduation," he said, his gruff voice dripping with sarcasm. Oh fuck me sideways, not only was his face attractive, his voice was equally pleasing. Forgive me, I've only seen a few truly attractive men. I was about to reply, hoping not to say something ridiculous, like 'Hi, I'm Ariana, but you can call me Ari... want to get married and have mini-mes of you?' - all while grinning like a lovesick schoolgirl. But just as I opened my mouth, my bald dad walked in, and I felt a mix of disappointment and relief wash over me. Reality slammed into me like a cold slap, and I was abruptly reminded that my room was currently overrun with movers, busily packing up every last thing I owned. "Dad, what's going on?" I asked, with a strained edge to my voice, hesitantly, I tore my gaze away from Mr. Hot/Attractive/Endearingly Gorgeous - was that even a thing? My father turned to THE pretty as a picture stranger, his expression intended to placate. "Shane, I'm sure there's something we can do. Some alternative? Please, this is madness, it's ridiculous." I noticed a flicker of unease in his eyes. It was a subtle tell, but it spoke volumes. Mister Hot Guy was powerful, and my father knew it. You can't be telling me my father was pea-brained enough to borrow money from someone as dangerously attractive looking as this? "You know what's ridiculous?" Shane countered, his voice dripping with disdain, OH HIS VOICE. What is wrong with me?! "Owing me money and ignoring it for two years, not just one. You're going to stand there and tell me you didn't receive the emails my very responsible assistant has been sending you?" He gestured to his assistant, who stepped forward, tablet in hand, a silent witness to his accusations. Unfortunately, my dad was pea-brained Shane's gaze locked onto my father, daring him to deny the truth. "We've been business partners for far too long for this," My father said, his eyes narrowing as Shane carelessly tossed my frame into a box. His hands slid smoothly into his pockets, his expression calm, calculating, and devoid of empathy. His gaze shifted to me, his piercing dark eyes locking onto mine with an unnerving concentration. It felt like a crime to look away. His chiselled features seemed to harden, and for a moment, our eyes held. He spoke, his voice lacking emotion. "James, ensure they take every single item in this house." And just like that the spell broke... he couldn't be serious. "Shane-" My dad began, but I cut him off. "This is ridiculous," I said, folding my arms and scoffing in disbelief. He might have been ridiculously attractive, but that didn't give him a free pass to upend my life and my family's. This had to be illegal, right? Where was our lawyer, anyway? "I'm sure we can pay you back. Just give us two weeks." I added, confident in my words. As soon as this was over, I was gonna call a lawyer and sue him. Who did he think he was, screwing over his business partner over a few dollars? I didn't understand why my 'future husband' was being so unreasonable, especially considering he was my dad's business partner. My dad was a wealthy man; paying him back wouldn't be a problem. I bet it wouldn't even be a headache. Shane was overreacting He let out a wry chuckle, his expression unreadable as he raised an eyebrow at me. "Payback 6.5 billion dollars in two weeks?" his tone dripped with scepticism. My eyes widened in horror as I struggled to process the staggering amount. "6...what?" I stuttered, my mind reeling. The assistant's calm voice was a jarring contrast to my inner turmoil as he clarified, "6.5 billion" I turned to my dad, "Dad?" My eyes were doing the questions cause I was afraid my voice would shake if I tried to speak. Oh-my-fucking-god "Aria-" "Why would you borrow 6 billion?" I asked in disbelief. A flush of rage and frustration spread across my face. My dad's voice cracked, "I had a crisis... at work." I wanted to roll my eyes at his words but for the first time, I saw a hint of vulnerability in my dad, and it shook me to my core. "A crisis?" Shane repeated, his tone mocking. "James, tell me, how has Andrew been handling the crisis at work with my money for the past year?" My eyes locked onto Shane's as he gave his assistant a nod. The assistant tapped away on his tablet, and Shane's gaze never left mine, his expression anticipatory, as if he was savouring the moment. "Gaming debts, illegal investments, money laundering, and illicit-," I raised my hands, palms facing outward, stopping the assistant's words. "Stop," My voice was firm but shaking with rage. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. Gambling? Money laundering? I stared at my dad, in shock, again. He looked embarrassed, but that wasn't enough. He had a family at home – two daughters and a wife. How could he? I felt like going for another long, hard jog to burn off the anger simmering inside me. "Look, Shane, I'm sure there's something we can do," My dad pleaded "Please... this isn't-" Shane's expression turned cold. "I don't care, James-." I intervened, trying to reason with him. "Wait, Shane... I'm sure there's something we can do. You can't bring work problems into our home; it's not professional... please." The words felt hollow even as I spoke them. This situation seemed hopeless, and I was grasping at straws, desperate to find a way out of this disgrace that my father put our family in. I watched Shane with his relaxed pose, his hands still tucked in his pockets. He looked away, sucking his lower lip, I got a good look at that gorgeous side profile and long eyelashes before his eyes locked back onto mine again. After a few seconds, he spoke, his voice measured. "I'll tell you what... I'll stop, but-." "What do you want?" My father cut in, his voice laced with hesitation. I felt a surge of annoyance. He was hesitating? The audacity! Shane was being cruel, yet a part of me understood his anger. I mean, I'd be mad too if I was him. His gaze shifted to my father then his eyes locked onto mine again "I want her." The words came out flat and emotionless. Like I was an object "James, the contract," he said, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. The contract? What contract? "What contract?" my father questioned, like he read my mind I felt a chill run through my veins as malice seeped from his every word "A contract marriage. Between your daughter... and me."