Eva's heart hammered as the limousine glided to a stop in front of a towering glass building. She'd seen it on TV before, some high-profile company with a name she only half-remembered.
As the driver opened her door, two men in black stepped forward, motioning her out.
"Please, follow us," one of the men said curtly.
Eva gulped and nodded, clutching her purse as she followed them through the glass doors and into a spacious lobby.
She barely had a chance to take in her surroundings before they ushered her into an elevator.
Her stomach twisted with every floor they climbed, and she kept casting nervous glances at the men beside her, who remained silent and stony-faced.
Finally, the elevator dinged, and they led her to a grand, dark-stained door. One of the men knocked briskly, and within seconds, the door swung open.
The man inside gestured for Eva to step in, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, the door shut behind her with a loud click.
She flinched, her eyes darting around marveling at the appearance of the place.
The office was enormous, tastefully decorated, but intimidating in its starkness. Behind a massive mahogany desk sat an older man, sharply dressed in a charcoal suit.
He looked up, his face expressionless, though his eyes bore an unsettling resemblance to the man she'd encountered that fateful night.
"Sit," he commanded his voice low and authoritative.
Eva hesitated, then slowly lowered herself into the chair opposite him, hands folded nervously in her lap.
The man observed her silently for a moment before he spoke again. "Do you know why you're here?" he asked her with his eyes staring intently at her as if he was trying to look into her soul.
Eva opened her mouth struggling to find her voice, "I... I'm not sure," she stammered.
"When I ask a question," he interrupted sharply, "I expect a direct answer."
Her cheeks flushed as she forced herself to meet his cold gaze. "No, sir. I don't know why I'm here i.... just.... but the man's lip curled slightly, in annoyance and his face scared her a lot.
"Enough," he snapped. "You're here to become my son's wife. For the next three years."
Eva's eyes widened. "Wh–what yes ...sir?"
He leaned forward, folding his hands together on the desk.
"Your only task," he continued in a hard tone, "is to give birth to this child you're carrying. After that, you will be rewarded. The rest," he added, "does not concern you."
Eva's heart pounded in her chest, her mind struggling to process the words. "You mean... after three years... I can leave?"
The man raised an eyebrow, then rose from his chair and approached her. He stood over her, an intimidating presence.
"That is... if you'll even want to by then." His voice held a note of mockery, as though he knew something she didn't.
Eva swallowed, feeling as if the walls were closing in around her. She barely whispered, "Are you... are you asking if I'm ready?"
The man's mouth twisted into a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I am not asking," he replied.
"I have already decided that you would get married to my son since you are carrying his child i am just asking you out of respect he continued with a smirk that made her whole body vibrate in fear where she was sitting."
Eva took in a shaky breath, her hand subconsciously moving to her stomach. For a moment, she thought of the child growing within her.
This wasn't a choice she'd ever imagined having to make, but what choice did she have now?
With a resolute nod, she lifted her chin and said, "I'm ready. It's... just three years afterall."
A glint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes as he turned on his heel, striding back to his desk.
"Good," he said coolly, retaking his seat. "You will be accompanying my son to a function tonight. Prepare yourself."
Immediately he finished his statement he pushed his chair backwards away from her, and pressed a button on his desk.
Almost immediately, a door she hadn't noticed opened, and several women entered, each holding a different outfit.
One of them gestured politely. "Miss, please follow us."
Eva glanced back at the man, but he'd already turned his attention to the papers on his desk, dismissing her as if she were nothing more than a transaction complete.