Flashback #2
I never thought the day would come when my life would spiral into the kind of mess you’d see in a poorly written soap opera. Standing in the dimly lit living room, my aunt paced back and forth, her expensive heels clicking against the tiled floor. The air was thick with tension, the kind you can feel pressing against your chest.
"You need to think about this, Remi," my aunt said, her voice a sharp whisper. "This isn’t about you. It’s about Jules."
The mention of Jules, my cousin, was like a punch to the gut. Jules, with his gentle smile and a laugh that could brighten even the darkest days, was lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. His leukemia treatments were bleeding us dry.
"I already work two jobs. What else do you want from me?" I snapped, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.
"It’s not about what I want," she replied, her tone dripping with mock pity. "It’s about what we need. You can’t save Jules with pennies, Remi. Rowan Vaughn is offering to solve all our problems. Why are you being so selfish?"
Selfish? That was rich coming from her. This was the same woman who had spent Jules’s treatment funds on designer handbags. But I bit my tongue. No amount of yelling would change her mind.
"You’re asking me to sell myself," I said, my voice shaking. "For Jules."
"No, I’m asking you to save your cousin," she corrected, finally stopping to face me. Her eyes gleamed with something between desperation and greed. "Rowan doesn’t care about love. He needs a wife who knows her place. He’ll pay us well to fill that role."
"And what happens after the wedding? When he realizes I’m not what he signed up for?"
"That’s not your problem," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "He’s too busy running his empire to care about what you do with your time."
I laughed bitterly. "You make it sound like a business deal."
"That’s because it is a business deal," she replied sharply. "And you’re lucky he’s interested. Do you think girls like you get chances like this every day?"
The insult stung, but I refused to show it. Instead, I turned to the window, staring out at the city lights that blurred through my unshed tears. Somewhere out there, Rowan Vaughn was living his life, completely unaware that his future wife was being cornered into this arrangement.
"I can’t," I whispered, but the words felt hollow even as I said them.
"You will," my aunt said, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, taking on an edge I hadn’t heard before. "Because if you don’t, Jules dies. And his death will be on your hands."
Her words hung in the air, suffocating me. She turned on her heel and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The next morning, I was sitting in a black sedan outside Vaughn Industries, clutching a manila folder with the contract that would change my life.
When Rowan walked in, I realized no amount of preparation could’ve braced me for the man himself. Tall, dark, and dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than my rent for a year. He carried himself with a confidence that filled the room, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.
"You must be Remi Laurent," he said, his voice cold and disinterested.
"And you’re Rowan Vaughn," I replied, my voice steadier than I expected.
He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."
I sat, feeling like a criminal awaiting judgment.
"This arrangement is simple," he began, flipping through the contract as if it bored him. "You’ll be my wife on paper. I’ll cover your family’s medical expenses, and in return, you’ll play the role required of you. Public appearances, family gatherings, and nothing more."
"And what happens if I refuse?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
He smirked, a humorless curve of his lips. "You won’t."
"Arrogant, aren’t you?" I muttered, earning a raised brow from him.
"Practical," he corrected. "This isn’t about romance, Miss Laurent. This is about necessity. For both of us."
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Do you have any idea how many women would kill for this opportunity? To live in luxury, with every need taken care of?"
"Then maybe you should marry one of them," I shot back.
His eyes narrowed. "They’re not desperate enough. You are."
The words hit their mark, but I refused to flinch. Instead, I met his gaze head-on, determined not to let him see just how much this situation terrified me.
"Sign the contract," he said, sliding it across the desk.
My hand trembled as I reached for the pen. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t. Not when Jules’s life hung in the balance.
As I scribbled my name on the dotted line, Rowan leaned back in his chair, watching me with an unreadable expression.
"Welcome to the Vaughn family," he said, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.
I set the pen down and met his gaze. "I’m not doing this for you," I said quietly.
"I know," he replied, his tone colder than ever.
As I left his office, the weight of what I’d just done hit me like a tidal wave. I wasn’t just signing a contract—I was signing away my freedom.
The moment I stepped out of the building, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my aunt: Good girl. Now make it work.
I wanted to throw my phone against the nearest wall. Instead, I shoved it into my bag and hailed a cab.
As I sat in the backseat, staring out at the city passing by, one thought echoed in my mind: What have I gotten myself into?
But the real question wasn’t what I had gotten into—it was what I had just tied myself to. Rowan Vaughn wasn’t a man to be underestimated, and something about the way he looked at me told me this arrangement was going to cost more than I’d bargained for.
When I arrived home, Jules’s laughter filled the small apartment. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drawing on a napkin, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him.
"I signed the papers," I said to my aunt, who was leaning against the counter with a smug smile.
"Good," she replied. "You did the right thing, Remi."
Did I?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just made a deal with the devil, and the price was going to be more than I could afford.
As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, the sound of my phone buzzing broke the silence. It was an unknown number.
You’ll meet me tomorrow at noon to discuss the terms further.
Rowan.
I stared at the message, my stomach twisting into knots. Something about him felt… dangerous. Not in the physical sense, but in a way that made me feel like he could strip away every layer of pretense I’d built around myself.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt a flicker of fear—not for what I was losing, but for what I might become.
Tomorrow, I would face Rowan Vaughn again. And this time, I would
n’t just be signing papers.
I’d be stepping into his world.
And I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out alive.
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