"The diamonds were worth £2.3 million," she said quietly, her voice betraying no emotion.
Liam's hands trembled as he stood before Lady Isabella Ashworth 's mahogany desk, the empty velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.
The morning sun streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating her penthouse office with unforgiving clarity. Outside, London's skyline stretched endlessly, while he stood facing a beautiful woman who wore a blank look on her face that made him realize just how small he felt.
Her perfectly manicured fingers drummed once against her desk before falling still. "Your wife took them. And you, Mr. Campbell, are responsible." Her elegant hands folded atop the polished wood, her own diamonds catching the sunlight. "You had one job: keep them safe for one night."
'How could Teresa do this to me?' Liam thought, his mind replaying their argument from the previous night. The accusations she'd hurled at him, her paranoid demands to know what was in the package, the familiar bitterness in her voice. After five years of marriage, he should have seen it coming.
"My Lady, I..." His voice barely rose above a whisper, shame and desperation warring in his chest. "I'll find a way to repay you. Somehow."
Lady Isabella's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "How? Your salary wouldn't cover this in fifty lifetimes." Her dark amber eyes lingered on him, moving across his features with the assessment of a collector appraising a rare piece.
"However..." She crawled, "I might have a proposition for you."
Liam nodded, feeling the weight of her scrutiny like a physical touch. He had always been aware of the way people looked at him. His body was athletic, he had broad shoulders and was standing at 6'4" tall.
To simply put, he had a graceful figure embodying a natural magnetism that drew attention.
The lady on the other hand was no slouch either.
Lady Isabella was a striking woman, a vision of beauty that could easily captivate anyone who crossed her path. Her long, dark hair flooded down her back in luxurious waves, framing a face that was both regal and intimidating.
High cheekbones boosted her otherwise already sharp features, and her full lips, often painted a deep red, held a smirk that could chill the warmest of hearts.
Yet beneath her stunning exterior lay a ruthless demeanor. Lady Isabella was known for her sharp tongue and unyielding nature, her wealth and status allowing her to wield power like a weapon.
She had little patience for weakness, and her words could cut deeper than any blade. Those who crossed her often found themselves regretting it, as she had a reputation for being unforgiving. Money and influence cloaked her rudeness, making it easy for others to overlook her harshness in favor of her allure.
"Twelve years," Lady Isabella said, rising from her chair with fluid grace. "Sign a contract to work exclusively for me for twelve years, and I'll consider the debt paid." She moved to the window, her silk dress whispering against the marble floor. "You'll manage my properties in Singapore. Your duties will include overseeing staff, coordinating events, maintaining my schedule."
Liam's heart sank, a lead weight in his chest. "Twelve years? That's... that's too long," he stammered, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. The thought of surrendering a decade of his life to a woman he barely knew felt like a death sentence. He could almost hear the ticking clock of his lost freedom echoing in his mind, each second reminding him of what he was about to sacrifice.
"Is it?" Lady Isabella's voice was cool, her expression unyielding. "You think I enjoy this? You think I want to waste my time on a man who failed to protect what was entrusted to him? You have no idea what I could do to you, Mr. Campbell. Perhaps I should just hand you over to the police, where you will spend the rest of your life in prison."
The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Liam felt a chill run down his spine. The thought of being locked away, of losing everything, was unbearable.
"And my wife?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Will be pursued by the authorities, of course." Lady Isabella's tone hardened. "I don't forgive theft, Mr. Campbell. But your fate is separate from hers now." She placed a silver pen beside an elaborate contract, its ornate design mocking his desperate situation. "Choose quickly. I have a flight to catch."
Liam closed his eyes, remembering his wedding day five years ago. Teresa had looked so beautiful, so full of promise. 'We were happy once,' he thought. 'Before the jealousy, before the accusations, before she destroyed everything.'
His fingers closed around the pen, steadier than he expected. 'I trusted her, and she betrayed me. Now I have to pay the price.'
"Wait," Lady Isabella said as he moved to sign, a flicker of something almost human crossing her porcelain features. "Understand this completely: for twelve years, you will have no rights of your own,"
"Your life will belong to me!" She said, emphatically.
"If you break the contract, the police will be notified immediately about your involvement in the theft." Her eyes flickered with something like sympathy—or perhaps it was just satisfaction.
"Are you certain?"
He found it weird that she was asking him this question when she didn't leave much choice from the onset. It was either he signed or he went to prison. Neither of those options seemed fair but he'd prefer keeping his butt hole the same size. He heard prison life could be brutal.
Liam's jaw tightened as he thought of Teresa, probably already halfway across Europe with his stolen future. 'I gave her everything, and she took even more.'
"Yes," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his soul. The pen moved across the paper, each stroke of his signature sealing his fate.
Lady Isabella rolled up the contract with the practiced grace of a cobra coiling around its prey. "Pack one bag," she commanded, though her voice held an almost musical lilt. "We leave in three hours." At the door, she paused, her silk dress catching the light. "For what it's worth," she added, a hint of genuine warmth creeping into her voice, "I admire those who take responsibility for their mistakes. I will not be cruel." The words hung in the air like perfume long after she'd gone.
'Not cruel,' Liam thought bitterly. 'Just owns me completely.' After she left, he stood by a window pane, while the full weight of his decision crushing down on him like an avalanche. His marriage, his freedom, his future—all gone in a single night.
"I chose this," he whispered to the empty room, the words somewhere between a prayer and a curse. "Twelve years. I'll survive it. I'll rebuild. And I'll never trust so blindly again."