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Bought by the Billionaire: The Debt's Price Novel Cover

Bought by the Billionaire: The Debt's Price

I was the "fallen princess" of New York, living in a charcoal silk cage while paying off my father’s millions in debt with my own body. My owner was Braxton Kensington, a man who looked at me with the same cold interest he gave a fluctuating stock graph. One morning, a New York Times alert shattered the silence: Braxton was getting engaged to a billionaire socialite in the merger of the decade. When I demanded my freedom and the five-million-dollar severance promised in our contract, he just smirked and pointed to the fine print. "In a court of law, an engagement is just an intention," he whispered, gripping my chin until it bruised. "Until I sign that marriage license, you belong to me." He flicked a black AmEx at my feet like I was a tragic charity case, ordering me to buy a dress for his engagement gala. To save my dying mother from eviction, I took a secret translation job, only to realize my client was his new fiancée, Caroline. She dragged me to Braxton’s office to humiliate me, and after he hid me in a secret room to avoid a scandal, he branded me a "security risk" and froze every cent I had. I stood in a CVS with my last sixty dollars, swallowing a Plan B pill dry while watching a news report about Braxton demolishing my family’s last legacy. He didn't just want my body; he wanted to erase my entire existence and leave me with nothing. The cruelty was breathtaking, but Braxton forgot that a woman with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous player in the game. I reached out to the only man he truly feared—his billionaire half-brother and the boy whose heart I broke years ago, Ansel Neal. "Coffee isn't enough," Ansel replied to my message in seconds. "Dinner. Our old spot. 8 PM." As I walked into the club to meet Braxton's greatest rival, I knew the game wasn't over. I was just changing the rules.
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Chapter 6

The lobby of Kensington Tower was a cathedral of capitalism. Marble floors, vaulted ceilings, and the hush of serious money. Elodie's heels clicked sharply on the stone as Caroline dragged her toward the private elevator.

The receptionist saw Caroline and immediately buzzed them through. She didn't even look at Elodie. To them, she was just a shadow.

The elevator ride was silent. Elodie watched the floor numbers climb. 20... 30... 50...

The doors opened onto the executive floor. Geoff was standing at the reception desk. He looked up, his professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second when he saw Elodie. His eyes darted from her to Caroline, then down to his tablet.

"Ladies," Geoff said. "They are waiting in Conference Room A."

"Thank you, Geoff." Caroline breezed past him.

Elodie followed, keeping her head down. Geoff didn't say a word, but she felt his gaze burning into her back. He knew. He knew everything.

They entered the conference room. It was a glass box suspended over the city. A long mahogany table dominated the space. Three men in grey suits sat on one side-the Spanish delegation.

Braxton wasn't there yet.

Elodie took her seat next to Caroline. She opened her notebook, her hands trembling slightly.

One of the Spaniards, a younger man with dark eyes named Mateo, leaned forward. "Hola," he said, smiling at Elodie. "You are the translator?"

"Sí," Elodie replied in flawless Spanish. "I am here to assist with the contract details."

Mateo's smile widened. "An unexpected beauty in a room of sharks."

Caroline let out a sharp, fake laugh. "Careful, Mateo. She's paid to talk, not to flirt."

Before Mateo could respond, the heavy double doors swung open.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Braxton walked in. He was wearing a navy suit, cut to perfection. He looked powerful, dangerous, and utterly in control. He walked to the head of the table, shaking hands with the investors.

Then he turned.

His eyes landed on Caroline. He gave a curt nod. Then his gaze slid to the person beside her.

Elodie felt the impact of his stare like a physical shove.

Braxton stopped. His hand, reaching for a file, froze in mid-air for a microsecond. His eyes narrowed. The pupils contracted.

He looked at her suit. The suit she was supposed to be wearing while sick in bed. He looked at Caroline, who was beaming with malicious delight.

He didn't say a word. He pulled out his chair and sat down.

"Let's begin," Braxton said. His voice was gravel.

The meeting was a blur of legalese and numbers. Elodie went into autopilot. She translated complex clauses about equity splits and liability caps. Her voice was steady, professional. She was good at this. For a moment, she forgot the fear. She was just Elodie Sinclair, the brilliant linguist.

Mateo noticed. "She is excellent," he said in Spanish to his colleague, looking at Elodie with admiration. "And she has a fire in her eyes."

Elodie translated the business part, ignoring the compliment.

Braxton tapped his pen on the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. A slow, rhythmic sound that grated on Elodie's nerves.

"Ask him," Braxton said, staring directly at Elodie, "if he understands the penalty for breach of contract."

Elodie turned to Mateo. "Mr. Kensington asks if you are clear on the breach penalties."

Mateo laughed. "Tell him I never break a promise to a beautiful woman."

Elodie hesitated.

"Translate it," Braxton ordered.

"He says... he honors his commitments," Elodie said.

Braxton slammed the pen down. The crack echoed in the room. Silence fell.

"That's not what he said," Braxton growled. He stood up. "The meeting is adjourned. Geoff, take the gentlemen to lunch."

The Spaniards looked confused but stood up. Mateo winked at Elodie as he left.

Caroline stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Well, that went well. Lunch, darling?"

Braxton didn't look at her. He was staring at Elodie, who was frantically packing her bag.

"Caroline, go with them," Braxton said. "I need to clarify a few clauses with the translator."

Caroline paused. Her smile faltered. She looked from Braxton to Elodie. "She's just a temp, Brax. I can hire-"

"Go," Braxton said. Soft. menacing.

Caroline's jaw tightened. She shot a venomous look at Elodie, then turned on her heel and walked out.

The door clicked shut.

Elodie was alone with him.

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