Beneath The Debt

Aria

My heels met the concrete as I stepped out of the car towards a twelve-story building. The name "Graves Elites" etched in a bold gold lettering at the entrance, like a monument to its owner's name and nature. Saxon Graves. The rich and powerful kick boxer from one of the wealthiest families in New York. I'd only seen him on tv segments and bouts. And I'd heard that he is notorious for his ruthless and arrogant nature. The receptionist nodded when I approached her, escorting me to a glass walled conference suite on the 9th floor, and I watched as the staff moved like they were programmed to serve a king. She knocked gently when we reached a door, where Saxon was waiting for my signature to paint the engagement documents with ink. "Come," came a voice that made my stomach drop. She entered for just a moment before returning. "Mr. Graves will see you now," she said. The room smelled of strong masculine cologne, and new leather as I entered. Saxon Graves sat on a lounge chair, one hand draping casually over the arm. His gaze shifted from his phone, a pair of mismatched eyes narrowing as they landed on me. He was fitted into black pants and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal sculpted forearms. He exuded an authority from the moment he lifted his gaze. "You're punctual," he said with a smooth voice, dropping his phone aside–and for a moment he just stared at me. His eyes slowly moved from my toes to my face before he spoke again. "At least one thing about you can be managed." He turned his attention elsewhere and didn't glance my direction after that. "Miss Monroe," another voice said, pulling my attention. A man slightly older than Saxon stood near a table, offering me a handshake. "Welcome, please have a seat." "Thank you," I said, barely rising above a whisper, and I sat in one of the high backed leather chairs. "So," the man started, "As Mr. Graves's legal assistant, I've gone through the documents, and everything has been finalized. Just sign here." He slided a thick paper across to me. My heart raced as I read through it: Agreement to marriage, confidentiality clause, restrictions, and so on. My hand hovering slightly as I signed. "That's all," the assistant said, taking the papers. I stood, a dull ache forming on my chest. "Thank you," I murmured, glancing at Saxon once, who already went back to his phone. It was as if I didn't exist to him. I made my way to the elevator with a thudding heart. The sliding doors began to close, but a hand slipped in between them, forcing them to open back up. It was Saxon. He stepped inside with hands shoved into his pockets, leaning against the wall like it was a normal day without acknowledging my presence. The descent began floor by floor as awkward silence stretched. Claustrophobia kicked in and my pulse quickened, while he stood like he enjoyed the chaos in the silence. Then suddenly, the elevator jolted, the light flickering, and then it went out. Saxon swore under his breath, and I froze. "What the hell." I fumbled for my phone, turning on the flashlight. "No fucking signal," he muttered, waving his phone around. "Great." I swallowed hard. "So..., are we just going to keep ignoring each other?" The words escaped before I could stop them, but I was met with silence. "That's how this is going to be? You could at least pretend to care," I hissed. Saxon stopped pacing and slowly turned, the flashlight catching only the edges of his face. "This?" he asked, his voice undertone. "What exactly do you think this is?" "I don't know at this point. But don't treat me like I'm the villain here." He took an instinctive step forward, and I stepped back. "Of course not, Miss Monroe," he said, a mocking smirk tearing his lips. I pressed the light directly on his face, needing to see him to remind myself he was just a man, and not some beast in the dark. "Then–." "Shh..," he interrupted, taking another step towards me, and I moved further away from him, hitting the cold wall of the elevator. "I wasn't done talking." "So?," I asked, gulping hard as I met his gaze. "So, don't talk unless I'm done speaking." "I didn't ask for this," I said. "So don't expect me to just obey you." Saxon towered over me, slamming his right hand on the wall beside my head, and I flinched. My phone met the floor, with the flashlight side facing up. My heart skipped painfully as his cologne hit me full force, choking me. It was dark spiced, mixed with something even crueler. "I didn't ask for this either," he spat "So I don't think I should have a particular way to treat you. And don't expect me to treat you like something precious too, Miss Monroe." "Why do you keep calling me by my first name?" I whispered, immediately regretting it. "Because that's all you are. Just a name in a paper. And care?," he scoffed. "About what? This arrangement? Or you?" "You signed the damn papers too didn't you?" I snapped. "Don't act like I tricked you into it. His eyes dipped to my lips. And I saw, and felt it when the air shifted. "Move," I said, feeling panicked, and my throat suddenly went dry. I tried to shove him away, but he gripped me by the cheeks and slammed my head back on the wall. My eyes flew wide open as I felt pain and fear shoot through my entire skulI, down to my spine. "I don't like loud women, Miss Monroe," Saxon said, digging his sharp nails into my skin. "And would definitely not want one for a wife." I winced in pain, trying to pull away, but his grip on my face only tightened. He caught my wrists in one hand and kept it in place as I struggled. I gasped, hot tears pricking my eyes. "You have one job in this arrangement. Smile for the cameras and the media, then stay out of my fucking way," "Asshole," I said, feeling trapped and suffocated. "That sharp tongue of yours," he said, and lowered to my neck, his breath hot. He ran his hand up my left thigh, and slowly slid his hand beneath the slit of my dress. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Let me go!" "Isn't this the attention you were begging for?" His voice sounds dangerously playful now. He gripped me by the throat and pinned my already captured wrists above my head on the wall. "Go to hell," I choked. "Darling, I've been living in hell," he whispered, his hand travelling further up in between my thighs, and forcing its way to my core. I shut my eyes, biting down on my lips, and refused to cry because of him, but I was soon defeated. "Saxon, stop," I begged "You wanted this didn't you?," he growled, raising his hand past my panties, and dipped a finger inside me. My knees weakened, reacting to his touch, and I cursed myself for it. "Please stop," I said as uncontrollable sobs left my lungs. His other hand released my wrists, deliberately roaming around my ass. It traveled up my waist and then, my breasts without resistance. "Please...," I said, choking. "I'm not done yet," he said as he pressed me further into the wall. He slid around my breasts and squeezed, while his other hand increased its dips inside me. I Iet out a mix of cries and moans, hating the way I sounded. That was when he lifted his weight, withdrawing his finger from my inside, and I gasped. With a smug face, Saxon pulled out a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, and whipped his hands. He inspected them like I'd had them contaminated. And then, he shoved me hard to the floor. I fell and twisted my ankle in my heels, and my leg screamed in pain. I stayed on the floor with my face down. I couldn't bring myself to look at him as shame burned through me. Saxon crouched beside me, making me recoil. "Remember this. You're the sacrificial lamb I decided to spare, don't make me change my mind. I heard the elevator door ding. "Now get out of my sight," he said with clenched teeth. And I scrambled for my phone and purse. I passed the staff, hoping my long dark hair was enough to shield me from their stares. I climbed into the car, slamming the door loudly before the driver could reach for it. The car ignited and the tears came gushing, blurring my vision. Saxon isn't just a monster. He is my fiance, and I would be living with him soon for the rest of my life.