Bound By The Billionaire's Cruel Contract

Clarissa pushed through the heavy, soundproof doors of The Obsidian Room. The bass from the speakers hit her chest instantly. It was a physical blow, rattling her ribs and making her teeth ache. She frowned. The smell of cheap sweat masked by expensive cologne filled her nose. She stood on her toes, her eyes scanning the dark, crowded dance floor. Laser lights sliced through the smoke in jagged green and red lines. She clutched the strap of her leather purse so tightly her knuckles turned white. She needed to find Maya. Fast. Her eyes darted to the far edge of the long marble bar. She spotted a familiar head of messy blonde hair. Maya was slouched over the counter, holding a shot glass of tequila. Her eyes were red and unfocused. Clarissa shoved her way through the sweaty bodies. She ignored the hands that brushed against her waist. She reached the bar and snatched the shot glass right out of Maya's hand. She slammed the glass down on the marble surface. The loud clink was swallowed by the electronic music. "Hey!" Maya slurred, swiping her hand through the air to grab the drink back. "I was drinking that." Clarissa grabbed Maya's shoulders. She dug her fingers into the fabric of her friend's dress. "We are leaving. Now. You need to go home." "No," Maya whined, trying to pull away. Before Clarissa could pull her off the barstool, a man stepped into their space. He wore a custom suit, but the fabric was too shiny. His eyes moved over Clarissa's body, slow and greasy. It made her skin crawl. Dwayne Boggs. He held a lowball glass and leaned his hip against the bar, blocking their only exit. "Can I buy you ladies a drink?" Dwayne asked. His breath smelled like stale cigars and vodka. "No, thank you," Clarissa said. Her voice was flat. Cold. She wrapped her arm around Maya's waist, pulling her friend up. She tried to step around him. Dwayne shifted his weight. He took a wide step to the left, blocking her path again. His greasy smile vanished. "I wasn't asking," Dwayne said. His voice dropped, turning hard and threatening. Clarissa took a half-step back. Her heart started to beat faster against her ribs. She pushed Maya behind her back. She slid her free hand into her purse, her fingers frantically searching for the cold metal of her phone. Dwayne saw her arm move. He lunged forward. His large hand clamped down on Clarissa's wrist. The grip was brutal. Bone crushed against bone. Clarissa gasped. A sharp pain shot up her arm. "Let go of me!" She yanked her arm back, planting her heels into the sticky floor. But he was too heavy. Too strong. Her wrist burned under his fingers. Maya stumbled forward, trying to push Dwayne's chest. "Leave her alone!" A massive man in a black shirt stepped out from behind Dwayne. The bodyguard shoved Maya hard. Maya let out a cry as she hit the floor, her back slamming against the base of the bar. "Let me go!" Clarissa screamed. She turned her head toward the crowd. "Security! Help!" Nobody moved. The clubgoers just watched. They looked at Dwayne's suit, his bodyguard, and looked away. No one was going to risk their neck for two women against a man with money. High above the chaos, the air was completely still. On the second floor, behind a wall of one-way, bulletproof glass, Giovanny Bartlett sat in a velvet armchair. He held a crystal glass of whiskey. He didn't blink. His cold, dark eyes cut right through the glass, locked perfectly on the commotion at the edge of the bar downstairs. He watched another man's hand wrap around his wife's wrist. Giovanny's jaw clenched. The muscle feathered in his cheek. He lowered his hand. He placed the crystal glass onto the glass table. It made a heavy, dull thud. Giovanny raised his right hand just an inch. He gave a single, sharp tactical hand signal to the chief security officer standing in the shadows behind him. The officer immediately pressed two fingers to his earpiece. He whispered a command. Within seconds, the officer and four massive men in black suits filed out of the VIP room. Downstairs, the bass continued to pound. Dwayne grinned. He yanked Clarissa's arm, trying to drag her toward a dark leather booth in the corner. Suddenly, the crowd split open. Four men in black suits moved like ghosts through the bodies. They formed a tight, impenetrable wall around Dwayne. Dwayne's bodyguard reached into his jacket. One of the black-suited men grabbed the bodyguard's arm, twisted it violently. The bodyguard's face contorted in a silent scream as his arm bent at an unnatural angle. Dwayne froze. His eyes went wide with panic. The lowball glass slipped from his numb fingers. It shattered violently against the marble floor, sending sharp splinters of crystal flying through the air. He let go of Clarissa's wrist. "Who the hell are you people?" Dwayne yelled, his voice cracking. Clarissa stumbled back. She cradled her wrist against her chest. The skin was already turning a dark, angry red. Her lungs burned as she tried to catch her breath. The crowd parted completely. They created a wide, empty path leading straight to the bottom of the spiral staircase. Giovanny walked down the stairs. His expensive leather shoes clicked against the marble steps. Each step was slow. Deliberate. It felt like he was stepping directly on Clarissa's chest. He reached the bottom. He walked straight to Clarissa. He was so tall he blocked out the laser lights above them. His shadow swallowed her completely. Giovanny didn't even glance at Dwayne. He stared down at Clarissa. His eyes were absolute ice. The air around them dropped ten degrees. His thin lips parted.