Trapped in the CEO's contract

the same three places it always did, and Amara had stopped moving the buc

arms wrapped around herself

ll the creditors came, banging on the gate hard enough to rattle the hinges. Thieves, they s

a semester of university lef

. Soft. Constant. The kind of crying that

table with his head in his

- an

t coughed their way down their street. This was

nd looked thro

gate. In the rain, it looked obscene

steppe

ce. Everyone knew that car. Everyo

an C

ened, wiping his face with the back of his hand, s

in. The room

paint - and something passed over his face. Not pity. Amara wo

ed the sofa didn't have a tear in the armrest.

e. He didn't have to. "This isn't about

th opened. Close

hand, and the ol

ouch you. No investor will take the risk." He pa

ightened. "In ex

time she understood why people called him cold. I

rry

slap. She grabbed the

something sharp and expensive. "Not love, Miss Obi. A transaction. A contra

, pale, her cheeks still wet. "No.

the middle. "Do you have any idea what you

looked away from Amara once. "Without me, this family drowns. With m

im. She wanted to hit him. How dare he stand in her father's ho

ing. Her mother was crying without making a sound, one ha

she said no. Eviction. The st

ut smaller than she wanted

For a second - half a second - someth

He said it plainly, without cruelty, which somehow

ach turn

he was trapped - by the debts, by his stare, by a f

ck ticked. N

t a black folder on the table. Gold lett

id. "And your fa

the folder. It

t giving up her freedom. Refusing meant destroying her

hispered, "A

hispered, "A

st watched. He had already

e, the rain came down harder,

erstood something she would c

d no c

closed aro