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Trapped In His Cruel Six Year Contract Novel Cover

Trapped In His Cruel Six Year Contract

Essie sold herself to ruthless billionaire Kieran Cortez on a six-year contract just to pay for her paralyzed brother's staggering medical bills. But the morning Kieran’s face was plastered on the front page announcing his engagement to a wealthy heiress, he violently refused to let Essie go. When she quietly asked if their contract was over, he trapped her against the marble counter. "You don't have the right to call this off. It would be a shame if Charles lost his spot in the medical trial." Trapped, Essie endured his brutal, punishing kisses in hidden corners, terrified of being discovered by his new fiancée, who worked as a doctor at her hospital. But the ultimate betrayal came from home. When her brother saw the dark, violent bruises Kieran had deliberately left on her neck, he didn't care about her sacrifices. He threw scalding coffee on her burned hand. "You disgusting whore! I would rather die than use the dirty money you make spreading your legs!" Even Kieran's fiancée investigated her finances, cornering her to smugly warn her to know her place as a lowly sugar baby. Essie had sacrificed her dignity, her body, and her soul to keep her brother alive, only to be treated like disposable trash by the man who owned her and despised by the family she saved. Why did her endless sacrifices only buy her a suffocating, inescapable hell? Staring at the phone screen flashing with Kieran’s demand to be at his penthouse by eight, a dead calmness finally washed over her. She held down the power button until the screen went black. Even if his wrath destroyed her tomorrow, tonight, she was taking her life back.
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Chapter 7

Essie tucked the heavy, moth-eaten quilt around Charles's sleeping body.

She stared at the angry purple bruises covering his face. She turned away, walked into the tiny kitchen, and dry-swallowed two ibuprofen pills to numb the pounding in her skull.

She couldn't afford to miss her afternoon double shift. She changed into a clean set of scrubs and rushed out the door.

By 8:00 PM, Essie's legs felt like they were made of lead. She clocked out, the machine beeping loudly in the quiet staff room.

She walked through the hospital's massive, brightly lit VIP lobby, heading for the subway exit.

Adelle was standing by the indoor fountain. She was wearing a flawless Chanel suit and holding a Birkin bag.

The second Adelle saw Essie's pale, exhausted face, a bright, overly enthusiastic smile stretched across her lips. She practically sprinted over on her high heels.

Adelle grabbed Essie's arm. Her grip was surprisingly tight. "Essie, you look awful! I absolutely insist on giving you a ride home."

Essie tried to yank her arm back. "No, really, Dr. Watts, I can take the train-" she stammered, terrified of Adelle seeing the slum she lived in.

Adelle didn't listen. She threw her arm around Essie's shoulders and half-dragged, half-guided her toward the VIP underground parking garage.

The motion-sensor lights flickered on as they entered the concrete garage. Adelle pressed the button on her keys, and a sleek red Porsche 911 chirped to life.

Suddenly, the deafening screech of tires echoed through the garage. A pitch-black Maybach slammed on its brakes, stopping inches from the Porsche.

The driver's door flew open. Kieran stepped out. He wore a dark grey trench coat, and his face was a mask of pure, murderous rage.

Adelle let out a delighted gasp. She let go of Essie and threw herself into Kieran's arms like a happy bird.

Kieran caught her, but his eyes-dark and venomous-shot right over Adelle's shoulder and locked onto Essie.

Essie stumbled backward in sheer terror. Her back slammed hard against a rough concrete pillar.

Suddenly, Kieran's brow furrowed. He let out a low groan, wrapping one arm tightly around his stomach, and hunched over.

Adelle panicked. She grabbed his arms. "Kieran! Oh my god, what's wrong?"

"Stomach cramps," Kieran rasped, his voice sounding incredibly strained and weak. "Go up to Dr. Evans' office on the fourth floor. Get my prescription."

Adelle bought it completely. Her eyes watered with worry. She turned and sprinted toward the elevator banks as fast as her heels would let her.

The elevator doors dinged and slid shut. The garage fell dead silent.

Kieran stood up perfectly straight. The pain on his face vanished instantly, replaced by the cold, ruthless glare of a tyrant.

He closed the distance between them in three massive strides. He grabbed the collar of Essie's turtleneck and literally lifted her off her feet.

He slammed her back against the concrete pillar. The rough stone scraped painfully through her thin scrubs.

"You ignored fifty of my calls," Kieran snarled, his face inches from hers. "Do you have a death wish?"

Essie shook violently. Tears poured down her cheeks. "My brother-he was in the ER-he was bleeding-" she sobbed, trying to explain.

Kieran didn't care. He lowered his head and smashed his mouth against hers. He forced her jaw open, kissing her with a punishing, bruising force that tasted like violence.

He pulled back, leaving Essie gasping for air. He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. "If you ever ignore me again, I will make Charles vanish from this city."

Essie's eyes widened in absolute horror. She nodded frantically, her tears flying.

The mechanical hum of the elevator descending echoed through the garage.

Kieran instantly let go of her. He took two steps back, wrapped his arm around his stomach again, and leaned heavily against the Maybach, looking pale and sick.

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