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Bound To The Devil From My Past Novel Cover

Bound To The Devil From My Past

To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years. But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms. "Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now." He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school. He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge. He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy. He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me. I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present. Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty? Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase. If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.
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Chapter 7

Ashlie hung up the phone, the dial tone buzzing in her ear like an insect. She tried to focus on the sketch in front of her, but the lines blurred together. Her mind was a mess of worry for her father and fear for herself.

A rustle of paper drew her attention. She looked over at Keenen. He was still sitting on the floor, his small body hunched over his drawing. He had been quiet for a long time.

She walked over and knelt beside him. The drawing was simple, drawn with the clumsy strokes of a child. It was a picture of a woman holding a little boy's hand. But the woman had no face. Just a blank oval where her features should be.

"That's a nice picture," Ashlie said softly.

Keenen pointed a crayon at the faceless woman. "That's Mommy," he said.

Ashlie's heart twisted. The longing in his voice was palpable. She wanted to hug him, to tell him it would be okay, but she didn't know how.

The buzzer at the door rang out, sharp and sudden.

Ashlie jumped, her heart leaping into her throat. She stood up quickly, her body tensing. He sent someone already.

She walked to the door on unsteady legs, preparing herself for another confrontation with one of Ellsworth's minions.

She pulled the door open.

"Chloe?" she blurted out, her eyes wide.

Her best friend, Chloe Mercer, stood in the hallway. She was dressed to kill in a leopard-print coat, holding two cups of coffee. Her usual bright smile froze on her face as she looked past Ashlie.

Chloe's eyes locked onto the small boy sitting on the floor. Her jaw dropped.

"Ashlie," Chloe said, her voice high with shock. "Who's kid is this? Since when do you babysit?"

Ashlie let out a bitter laugh. She grabbed Chloe's arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Keep your voice down," Ashlie hissed, gesturing toward Keenen. "This is Keenen."

Chloe's eyes were sparkling with gossip. She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Is he a secret love child? Faye's? No, I would know. Is he... yours?"

Ashlie couldn't help but smile at her friend's wild imagination. She shook her head and pointed toward the small kitchenette in the back.

"Let's talk in there," Ashlie said.

She went over to Keenen and handed him her tablet, played the cartoons that most ordinary children like. He took it without a word, his eyes glazing over.

In the kitchen, Chloe immediately launched into interrogation mode.

"Spill it," Chloe demanded, leaning against the counter. "You look like hell. What's going on?"

Ashlie took a deep breath. She couldn't lie to Chloe. She needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn't part of this nightmare.

"I'm married," Ashlie said slowly.

Chloe choked on her coffee. " You... you got married? When? To who? Why wasn't I invited?"

The questions came rapid-fire, each one hitting Ashlie like a pellet.

"This morning," Ashlie said, her voice tired. "I got married to save the Bradford Group."

Chloe's face went pale. She knew about the company's troubles, but she hadn't realized how desperate things had gotten.

She reached out and pulled Ashlie into a tight hug. "Oh my god, Ash. Why didn't you tell me? Who is he? Is he good to you?"

Ashlie pulled back, her eyes filling with tears she had been holding back all day. She looked at her friend, her expression a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

"It's Ellsworth Marshall," she whispered.

Chloe frowned, the name ringing a distant bell. "Ellsworth Marshall? Wait... you don't mean the Ellsworth Marshall? The phantom of Wall Street who came out of nowhere last year? No, that's impossible. It has to be a different guy."

"No," Ashlie prompted, her voice hollow. "From school. The boy we called the 'Glass Prince'?"

Chloe's mouth fell open in a perfect 'O'. She looked like she had been slapped.

"Wait," Chloe stammered, her voice a squeak. "Our 'Glass Prince'? The one who fell over if you breathed on him? He's the billionaire who saved your company? And you married him?"

Ashlie nodded, a tear finally slipping down her cheek. She told Chloe everything-the contract, the revenge, Keenen being his nephew, the move to Long Island.

When she finished, Chloe was silent for a long moment. She just stared at Ashlie, her expression a mix of horror and awe.

"This is insane," Chloe finally said, her voice hollow. "This is like a plot from a crazy movie."

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