Billionaire Daredevil In Love

CLAYTON.

“Clayton,” she said, her voice shaky. “I-I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Of course you weren’t,” I said with a mischievous smile.

She got up from her bed and stood very still, as if she was a statue. I had her, all I had to do was play my cards right.

“Well, erm, have you thought about what I asked for?” She said,

“Mm-hmm, I have,” I said as I sank into the armchair.

“And?” She asked, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“Well, honestly, I don’t give a shit about your sister,” I told her in a matter-of-fact tone. “I really don’t…”

I stopped there, to build the tension. She started to wring her hands. I was sure if I stood near her, I would hear the thumping of her heart.

“Clayton, please, I’m begging you,” she said. Her face crumpled and she started to cry. “My sister will die without proper treatment. I can’t bear to lose her; she’s all I have. I’ll do anything. Anything, Clayton. You wanted my body the first time we met, didn’t you? Fine. I’ll fuck you, that’s what you want. I’ll-”

She started to take off her clothes, exposing her lithe body. Her gown fell to the floor, and she stood bare before me. I ran my eyes from her perky breasts to her navel to the thin trail of hair that led to her vagina. I had almost forgotten how sexy she was. Desire burned through me like a wildfire and I felt a familiar bulge in my groin. She started to walk very slowly towards me, placing one foot in front of the other. When she got to my front, she crouched, sitting on her haunches, looked me in the face, and gave me a coy smile. Then she started to unzip my trousers.

“Stop it,” I barked. “Fucking stop.”

I shoved her away, and from the look on her face, I could tell she was surprised.

“I-I thought-” she stuttered.

“Bitch, you can’t fuck your way to sixty thousand dollars, you hear me,” I said then let out a sinister laugh.

She collected herself and got up. When she began to dress up, I told her about my plan.

“But I do have a proposal, though,” I said. “And that could get you the money to save your sister.”

She was putting her panties back on when I said that, and she stopped to raise her head and look at me.

“I’ll do anything, Clayton,” she said, and I heard the resolution in her tone.

“Of course you will,” I said and laughed.

“Well, I was thinking about it, and I don’t really want to let you go, Nadine,” I said to her. “I’ve met my lawyer, and he has outlined the documents for a contract marriage. You will be able to leave her, of course, and you will get the money for your sick sister, but you will be mine.”

There was shock on her face.

“Wha-what is this, Clayton?” She asked.

“A fucking proposal is what it is,” I answered.

“But you hate me,” she said. “You hate me, and we both know it. What do you hope to achieve by coercing me into this bullshit.”

“Coercing?” I asked derisively. “Who said anything about coercion? Look, I told you what the deal is, and the question now is – do you want to save your sister or you want the cancer cells to eat up her organs and systems till she remains a shell of herself and dies a horrible death?”

She just stood there, saying nothing, tears snaking down her eyes. I had thought it would be easier, that she would immediately concede to the proposal, but it seemed like she abhorred the idea of getting married to me.

Nadine:

I stood before Clayton, in only my panties. Something weighed heavy on chest as he spoke. The bastard wanted me to marry him. The only reason why I had asked him for the money was because no other person would give it to me, and the fool was asking me to marry him. And not just that, he wanted to do it contractually. I think wealthy people are very eccentric, maybe it’s the money that makes them so. Here was a man that hated me and knew that I detested him, too, throwing me a curveball by asking me to marry him

“You’re not serious, Clayton,” I said to him. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m dead serious, Nadine,” he said. “Do I sound like I’m fucking kidding?”

“What are you going to do with me when we’re married?” I said, rolling my eyes.

“What else?” He said. “You’re going to play the role of a wife, of course.”

He looked uncomfortable, like something was bugging him. Perhaps he had thought that I would accept his proposal off the bat.

“Clayton, please, be fucking serious,” I said to him.

“Either you accept the proposal and I call my lawyer,” he said, “or nothing.”

“Fuck you, Clayton,” I said, my voice sharp, cutting.

We were silent for a while. I wondered what was going through his head, probably another sick thought. I really wanted him to give me the money, I would have had sex with him everyday, but marriage was completely out of the picture.

“So this isn’t happening, is it?” He said.

“I can’t marry you, Clayton,” I told him. “We hate each other. What is there to gain from such unholy union?”

“You don’t remember that we hated each other when you asked for the money, eh?” He said.

I rolled my eyes.

“Clayton, please, we can find another way,” I pleaded. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to-”

He leapt from the armchair and smacked me across the face. I fell to the bed, dazed.

“Stupid bitch,” he said. “You’re not getting a dollar from me, you hear me?”

He left the room, locking me inside again. I couldn’t cry. I just sat up, and stared into space.