Bought By The Cold Billionaire Husband

The phone screamed into the silence of the bedroom. Davina jolted upright, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 2:00 AM in harsh red lines. The ringing didn't stop. It drilled into her skull, pulling her out of a nightmare straight into another one. She grabbed the phone, her fingers slipping on the cracked screen. The caller ID flashed a name that made her stomach drop: Kash. She swiped to answer, pressing the cold glass to her ear. "Hello?" "Davina." His voice was ice. No hello, no preamble. Just the flat, hard tone of a man who bought what he wanted. "It's time to fulfill your end of the bargain." She swallowed, her throat dry. "Kash, it's two in the morning-" "I don't care if it's the apocalypse," he cut her off. "The marriage agreement. The heir clause. I need it done. Now." Her grip tightened on the phone until her knuckles turned white. The plastic creaked under the pressure. "You can't just call and demand-" "I can, and I am." The line was quiet for a second, save for the sound of his steady breathing. "You took the money, Davina. You signed the contract. I expect compliance." "I need time," she forced out, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "We discussed a timeline-" "Timeline's moved up." A hard edge entered his voice. "You have until the end of the month. Don't try my patience." The line went dead. Davina lowered the phone. It slipped from her numb fingers and landed on the mattress with a soft thud. She dropped her head into her hands, her chest tight, fighting for air. Her eyes drifted to the coffee table in the living room, visible through the open doorway. A thick stack of papers sat there, illuminated by the streetlight filtering through the thin blinds. The prenuptial agreement. She forced herself out of bed, her bare feet cold against the worn floorboards. She walked over to the table and stared down at the document. Blackwell Industries - Project Director. That was his title. Kash Daniel Montgomery, a man with a six-figure salary and a stick up his ass. He drove a Ford sedan. He lived in a nice apartment uptown. He was comfortable, well-off, but nothing special. Just another corporate suit. Yet he looked at her like she was a thief caught red-handed. Two months ago, she had stood in that sterile office, signing her name on the dotted line. Kash had shown up in that ordinary Ford, looking at her with eyes full of suspicion. The prenup he had handed her was thicker than most novels, every clause designed to protect his precious middle-class assets from the gold-digger he thought she was. Separate property. No alimony. No claims on future earnings. She let out a bitter laugh that echoed in the empty room. He was just a project director, but he guarded his money like he was hiding a fortune. Her phone buzzed again. A video message from Jodie. Davina hit play. The screen filled with the pale, exhausted face of her niece, Daisy. The little girl was propped up on hospital pillows, dark circles under her eyes. "Aunt Vina," Daisy whispered, her voice so weak it was barely a breath. "When are you coming to see me?" Davina's vision blurred. Hot tears spilled over her lashes, tracking down her cheeks. She pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob building in her chest. Five hundred thousand dollars. That was the price of Daisy's life. The surgery, the hospital stay, the aftercare. It was a mountain of money she could never climb on her own. For that money, she had sold herself. She had signed the paper, taken the check, and walked down the aisle to a man who despised her. But she had never actually thought she would have to go through with the physical part. She thought she could stall, find a way out, pay him back. The doorbell rang, a sharp buzz that made her jump. She quickly wiped her face with the back of her hand, shoving the prenup under a magazine. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and walked to the door. She peered through the peephole. Jodie stood in the hallway, holding a brown paper bag and a six-pack of cheap beer. Davina unlocked the door. "Jodie? What are you doing here?" "Bringing the essentials." Jodie pushed past her, kicking the door shut with her foot. "Late-night comfort food. You look like hell, by the way." "Thanks," Davina muttered, following her friend into the tiny kitchen. "I feel like hell." Jodie set the bag on the counter, pulling out takeout containers of pad thai and spring rolls. She popped the cap off a beer and handed it to Davina. "Talk to me. What's going on?" Davina took a long swig of the beer, the bitter liquid cooling her throat. "Kash called." Jodie froze, a spring roll halfway to her mouth. "And?" "He wants to... consummate the marriage." The word tasted like ash in her mouth. "He gave me a deadline." Jodie slammed her beer bottle down on the counter. Foam sloshed over the rim. "That son of a bitch! He treats you like a breeding cow he bought at auction." "It's in the contract," Davina said quietly, staring at the condensation on the bottle. "I agreed to it." "For Daisy!" Jodie's voice rose, echoing in the small apartment. "You did it to save her life, not to become his personal incubator. He has no right to demand-" "He has every right," Davina cut in, her voice hollow. "He paid for it." Jodie stared at her, her eyes flashing with anger and pity. "You're not actually going to do it, are you? Just lie back and think of England?" "I don't have a choice." Davina's shoulders slumped. "If I breach the contract, he can demand the money back. I don't have it. It's all gone to the hospital." Jodie walked around the counter and pulled Davina into a tight hug. "I'll help you. I'll get a second job. I'll sell my car. We'll figure something out." "You can't fix this, Jo." Davina hugged her back, burying her face in her friend's shoulder. "But I'll figure a way out. I'll handle Kash. I won't let him touch me." Jodie pulled back, her expression skeptical. "How? The man has a key to this place." "I'll be creative." Davina picked up her beer again, her jaw set. "I didn't survive the foster system by being a doormat." They moved to the couch, eating takeout straight from the containers and drinking beer. The tension slowly eased as the alcohol kicked in. Jodie finished her third beer and leaned her head back against the cushions. "Men are trash," Jodie slurred, her eyes half-closed. "Especially the ones I meet. I swear, I have the worst luck." "Maybe you should stop picking them up in dive bars," Davina said, a faint smile touching her lips. "Where else am I supposed to meet anyone?" Jodie groaned. "I'm too tired to date. Too tired for any of this." Davina helped her friend to the door an hour later, watching her stumble down the hallway to the elevator. "Text me when you get home!" Jodie waved a hand without looking back. Davina closed the door and leaned against it. The silence of the apartment rushed back in, heavier than before. The fear crept back up her spine, wrapping around her throat. She walked over to the window and stared out at the New York skyline. The neon signs of bodegas and all-night diners painted the street in harsh colors. She pulled out her phone and opened her banking app. Available Balance: $84.52. The hospital bills were a weight on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She closed her eyes, her reflection staring back at her from the dark glass. She had to survive this. She had to protect herself. "I'll handle it," she whispered to the empty room. "I won't let him break me."