“Have you never read the marriage contract?”—the billionaire smiles cunningly.
“No,” I answer, confused.
“I… trust you.”
“You signed an agreement for…” He pauses meaningfully.
“For what?”
“You’re my damn property. Forever. You’ll never be able to refuse. In everything.”
“You’re kidding,” I say, with a nervous smile.
“Looks like I am?” he shakes his head.
“I needed guarantees. I got them. Now get on with your duties!”
“Am I really the one who agreed to something… wicked?”