Bound To The Masked Comatose Billionaire

Chloe shoved the final design sketch into the cardboard tube. The stiff edge of the paper sliced across her index finger. A sharp sting shot up her arm, and she sucked in a harsh breath.

She stared at the bead of dark blood welling up on her skin. Her stomach knotted. It felt like a bad omen. She pressed her thumb against the cut, her brows pulling together in a tight frown.

Her phone screen lit up on the cramped desk. The harsh ringtone shattered the quiet of her cheap Manhattan apartment. The caller ID flashed Sarah's name. Chloe's stomach clamped down in a violent spasm.

She swiped the answer button. Sarah's voice came through the speaker, cold and sharp. She demanded Chloe return to the Long Island estate immediately. The tone left no room for argument. Chloe's knuckles turned white as she gripped the phone.

She tried to push back, mentioning her upcoming graduation exhibition. Sarah let out a dry, mocking laugh. She casually mentioned the overdue medical bills for grandmother Martha. The threat hit Chloe like a physical blow to the chest. Her defense crumbled instantly.

Chloe grabbed her faded canvas tote bag and rushed out of the apartment. The early winter wind of New York whipped down the street, biting into her neck. She shivered violently and hurried down the concrete steps.

She squeezed into the packed subway car. The bodies of strangers pressed against her, making her sway on her feet. Her chest felt tight. The fear of whatever judgment awaited her at the White family estate made it hard to breathe.

She sprinted out of the subway station and ran toward the Long Island Rail Road platforms. The digital board flashed that she had just missed the train. Frustration boiled up in her throat. She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting copper.

Two hours of a bumpy, miserable ride later, she stood outside the towering iron gates of the White estate. The ornate metalwork looked like the bars of a prison. The sheer size of the property pressed down on her lungs.

Chloe pushed open the heavy front door. The glare from the massive crystal chandelier stung her eyes. She froze. Sarah and Fiona sat perfectly upright on the velvet sofa. Chloe's heart skipped a beat.

Fiona picked up a medical report from the glass coffee table and tossed it back down. The slap of the paper echoed in the vast, empty living room. Chloe stopped walking, her eyes darting between the two women.

Sarah did not look at her. She stared straight ahead and announced that Chloe was going to marry the eldest son of the Sterling family. The absurdity of the command made Chloe's pupils dilate.

Chloe yelled that she would never agree to a blind, arranged marriage. Her throat cracked from the force of her voice. Fiona simply let out a high-pitched, mocking laugh.

Fiona stood up and closed the distance between them. She poked her sharp acrylic nail hard into Chloe's shoulder. She spat out the truth, revealing that Chloe was nothing but an orphan bought from the foster care system.

The secret, hidden for twenty years, crashed down on Chloe. Her brain went completely blank. Her body swayed backward, her knees suddenly weak.

She turned her head desperately toward her adoptive father, Council, sitting in the armchair. She needed him to deny it. Council just looked away and took a slow sip of his wine. That total dismissal shattered her last ounce of hope.

Chloe lunged forward. She grabbed the prenuptial agreement resting on the coffee table and ripped it in half. The sharp sound of tearing paper filled the room. It was her final, desperate act of rebellion.

Sarah shot up from the sofa. Her hand swung through the air and connected with Chloe's cheek. The loud smack rang out. A burning pain spread across Chloe's face, snapping her head to the side.

Sarah pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. She shoved it into Chloe's face. The video showed grandmother Martha lying in a sterile hospital bed, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps. Chloe's eyes instantly turned bloodshot.

Sarah stated the terms. If Chloe did not take Fiona's place and marry the comatose Sterling heir, she would pull the plug on Martha's ventilator. The cruelty of the leverage turned Chloe's blood to ice.

Chloe stared at the screen. Her fingernails dug so deeply into her palms that the skin broke. Warm blood pooled in her hands. Hot tears spilled over her eyelashes and tracked down her stinging cheek.

She lunged to grab the phone. Two massive bodyguards stepped out of the shadows and clamped their hands down on her shoulders. The crushing pressure on her collarbones pinned her in place.

Fiona leaned in close. Her hot breath hit Chloe's ear. She whispered that Chloe was just used goods that nobody wanted. The malicious words triggered a wave of nausea in Chloe's stomach.

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut. She forced herself to swallow the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Her chest he heave. Slowly, the fight drained out of her, and her arms dropped limply to her sides.

She asked them how they could be so evil. Her voice was a ragged, broken whisper. The only answer she got was the cold silence of the room.

Sarah slid a fresh copy of the agreement across the glass table. She placed a heavy Montblanc pen on top of it. The metal scraped against the glass.

Chloe stared at the signature line. Her vision blurred with fresh tears. Every breath she took felt like inhaling glass.

For the sake of her grandmother's life, she reached out. Her fingers trembled as they closed around the cold metal of the pen. Her heart felt completely dead.

She pressed the nib to the paper and signed her name. She pressed so hard the pen tore through the thick paper, leaving a permanent scar on the desk beneath. Her freedom was gone.

Sarah snatched the paper up with a satisfied smirk. She ordered the guards to lock Chloe in the guest room until the wedding tomorrow. The heavy thud of the deadbolt sliding into place cut off Chloe's only exit.