Chapter 4

“You understand, don’t you?” His voice was quiet, deliberate, each word clipped like the pull of a trigger. “Everything I’ve told you—I can make it happen. All of it. Your life, your brother’s life… they’re in my hands.”

The weight of the words lingered between them like smoke. He leaned back slightly, studying her, almost expecting to see her flinch. Most people did. But she didn’t.

He wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to emphasize it again. Why he bothered to warn her, to offer her the chance to think twice. He never gave second chances—not in business, not in anything. Yet here he was, almost urging her to reconsider before it was too late.

But instead of fear, instead of hesitation, she did something that unsettled him.

She smiled.

A small, steady curve of her lips—not mocking, not naive, but something far worse. Resolved.

“Yes,” she said softly, her head bowing once in acknowledgment. “I know. I’m aware of exactly what I agreed to, Sir.” She drew a slow breath, forcing her voice to steady. “You said once I accepted your terms, I wouldn’t have to worry anymore. That was all I ever wanted.”

The admission was plain. Almost bare.

In a world where doors stayed shut for most people, where miracles never landed in the hands of the desperate, she wasn’t foolish enough to throw away the one chance that had come her way. Even if that chance was coated in thorns. Even if it meant selling pieces of herself she could never reclaim.

To her, nothing—nothing—mattered more than saving her brother.

“Besides,” she added, a faint laugh slipping from her lips, the sound brittle and small, “who doesn’t love money?”

It was almost a joke, almost light, but it didn’t land that way. Not with the rawness in her tone. She wasn’t pretending. She truly didn’t care if he saw her as greedy, as a woman who would trade herself for financial security. That word—gold digger—meant nothing to her now.

Once, in her younger years, maybe she would have been ashamed. Maybe she would have fought to keep her pride intact. But life had stripped that from her long ago.

She had spent her adulthood clawing through endless shifts, thankless jobs that left her body aching and her spirit exhausted. College had been the first dream to die—too expensive, too impractical. She’d buried it and never looked back. Every coin she scraped together had gone into hospital bills, prescriptions, and treatments.

Not for her. For him.

Her older brother. The only family she had left. The boy who had shielded her when their parents died, the boy who had become her anchor in a world that seemed determined to drown them both.

She could never choose herself over him.

And he could see that in her eyes now.

For the first time, he really looked at her. Not just at her face, not just at the calm front she wore. He looked past it. And what he saw was a woman suffocating beneath a mountain of burdens, and yet somehow, she still held herself upright.

Something twisted in his chest at that.

“Very well,” he said finally, the hard edge in his voice dulling, though not disappearing. “If that’s your decision… sign the contract. Then it’s official.”

The silence stretched thin as she reached for the pen. Her hand trembled, just slightly. The sound of the nib scratching across the paper was sharp in the quiet room. When her name bloomed across the line in black ink, it felt final. Irreversible.

A bond sealed. A chain locked tight.

“Your brother’s first treatment begins tomorrow morning,” he said, his tone flat but firm. “And by midnight, the Rosettis will have their payment.”

The words landed heavy, but for her, they were salvation. The rigid line of her shoulders softened. She hadn’t realized how shallowly she’d been breathing until relief rushed in, flooding her lungs, loosening the noose she had been living under for so long.

But before she could cling to the moment, his voice came again, sharper than before.

“And one more thing.”

Her head lifted, startled by the shift in his tone.

“If you ever hurt my daughter—if you so much as raise your voice at her, force her, make her feel unsafe—there won’t be enough of you left to bury.” His gaze was ice, his words deliberate, almost too calm. “Do you understand me?”

The air thickened with menace. It wasn’t an empty threat. He had killed before. He would do it again. Protecting his child was the one line he would never allow anyone to cross.

He expected her to pale, to shrink, to stammer. That was what people did when they realized what kind of man he truly was.

But instead—fire.

Her eyes burned with sudden fury as she snapped, “Are you serious?”

The sharpness of her tone caught him off guard. He blinked, lips parting slightly. “What—”

“You think I’m the kind of monster who would hurt a child?” she cut him off, her voice rising, each word thick with disbelief. “You think I’m that heartless?”

Her anger was raw, unfiltered, spilling out before she could control it. His warning hadn’t just unsettled her. It had cut her to the bone, like a knife accusing her of a crime she would never commit.

Children. Innocent, fragile children. She had always loved them, always protected them when she could. The idea that he—this man—believed she might harm one made her stomach twist with disgust.

Her hands clenched tightly in her lap, knuckles pale. She forced her gaze downward, fighting to rein in her temper. But her chest still heaved, her breaths uneven.

She understood, dimly, that his words hadn’t come without reason. That he carried scars she could not see yet. That he was speaking as a father, not as a man threatening her. But knowing that didn’t dull the sting.

His suspicion, however brief, still cut her deeper than she wanted to admit.

Across from her, he sat frozen, his composure fractured for the first time. He wasn’t used to this. No one spoke to him like this. No one dared raise their voice, let alone glare at him with fury instead of fear.

Yet here she was. A woman he had cornered into an agreement, a woman who had every reason to bow her head and stay silent, daring to snap at him instead.

His eyes locked on hers, and he saw it: the pain beneath her anger, the sincerity that couldn’t be faked. Against his own instincts, his hand twitched, reaching across the space toward her.

But just before he touched her, he froze. Realization struck. His fingers curled back into a fist, retreating quickly, as if burned.

He opened his mouth to speak, words forming at the back of his throat, but she broke the silence first.

“I’m sorry.”

The words hung fragile in the air, startling him more than her anger had.

“I shouldn’t have yelled,” she said quietly, her voice trembling with guilt. “It was rude. Please… forgive me.”

Her head bowed low, shame burning her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I know you had your reasons for saying what you did,” she continued, softer now, the anger drained into weariness. “I just… I reacted before I thought. I can’t imagine myself ever raising a hand against a child. The idea alone makes me sick.”

Her honesty bled through every word. She didn’t even realize she was laying herself bare in front of him, showing a side of herself most would guard.

Normally, he would have seen such vulnerability as an opening. Something to exploit. In his world, weakness was a weapon.

But with her, he couldn’t.

Something in him refused.

His face shifted, emotions he hadn’t allowed in years flickering across his features—anger, regret, confusion, and something dangerously close to longing.

If she had looked up, she would have seen it: the cracks in the armor of a man who had been nothing but cold and ruthless since the night his wife died.

Two years of burying every trace of his humanity… and suddenly, in front of this woman, it stirred again.

And for the first time in so long, he didn’t know what to do with it.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***