SIGNED TO BE HIS

SIGNED TO BE HIS

deborahnnkoli24 · Ongoing · 101.1k Words

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Introduction

She sold her pride to save her family. She never thought she'd find her power.

All Anna wanted was to save her brother’s life. Struggling to survive, she makes the ultimate sacrifice, signing a contract marriage with a man who doesn’t believe in love.

But what starts as desperation becomes transformation.

From part-time waitress to billionaire’s wife. From quiet singer to rising star. From weak to unbreakable.

Yet behind her rise is a trail of betrayal, a jealous best friend with a hidden knife, and a man whose past could destroy their future.

This is not just a love story. It’s her becoming.

Chapter 1

Anna’s POV

.

My hands were shaking as I tried to count the pennies on our damaged kitchen table.

They kept falling through my fingers, clinking on the cracked surface a painful reminder of how weak I felt.

The money I had wasn’t even half of what I needed to buy Ferdinand’s medicine tonight.

From the bedroom, I could hear his quiet coughing. Each shaky breath felt like a dagger in my chest.

I blinked rapidly, holding back tears. Crying wouldn’t help him.

Suddenly, the front door burst open.

“Anna!”

Sara’s words surged over our little flat like a wave of scent in stagnant air.

I leaped, swiftly snatching the money and shoving them inside my apron. I attempted to grin, but my face wouldn’t comply.

“What is it, Sara?” I asked, my throat dry and voice scratchy.

She strode in, hips bouncing in her tight red minidress. Her gorgeous blonde hair spun behind her like a whip, and her powerful vanilla perfume filled the room.

“Why do you look like someone crushed your last bit of hope?” she murmured as she perched on the arm of the couch, crossing her legs elegantly. “Oh wait, that's probably because life already did.”

I clasped the money in my fingers, trying not to cry. “Please don’t start tonight. I’m exhausted.”

“Of course you are,” she answered, checking her nails. “Tired of working three jobs, tired of rude customers, tired of cleaning bathrooms all day. I got it.”

My shoulders sank. “Sara, please…”

She leaned in closer, her eyes glinting. “I have something for you tonight.”

“I told you…I’m not dancing at your club.” My voice cracked at the end, and I hated how weak I sounded.

Sara grinned. “Relax, songbird. I’m not asking you to dance. I’m asking you to sing.”

I gazed at her.

“Sing?

In front of people?”

“Yes!”

The club’s in crisis mode.

Their primary singer bailed at the last minute. I told them I knew someone with a voice that could make angels cry.”

I shook my head and moved back.

“No, Sara. I can’t.”

“Why not?” Her voice got harsh.

“You need money for Ferdinand’s meds, don’t you?

Or are you just intending to pray that his heart will fail tonight?”

Tears rushed down my cheeks. I wiped them away hastily. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“You already do,” she shouted, getting up and walking toward me.

“You and your sick brother live here rent-free.

I pay for his medications when you can’t. The least you can do is sing one song for a few affluent guys. It’s not like I’m asking you to strip.”

I closed my eyes, shook my head gently. “How much does it cost?”

Her smile grew sly. “Five hundred for one song.

Tips are yours to keep. And if you impress the CEO, maybe he’ll give you even more.”

I frowned. “CEO?” “The owner of Lex’s Luxe.

Alexander Oreos.

He’s back from the U.S.

Big deal.

Everyone’s talking about it.

The club’s filled tonight because of him, billionaires, politicians, stars. They’ll all be there.”

My stomach turned. “Sara… I don’t belong in that world.”

“Neither do I, but guess what? I’m still here,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “You’re beautiful, Anna. Sweet and innocent.

Men pay for that. But tonight, all you need to do is sing. Please. Don’t make me appear like an idiot for vouching for you.”

Ferdinand’s quiet coughing wafted from the bedroom again, tightening a rope of shame around my neck. I nodded slowly.

“Good girl,” Sara grinned. “Now get dressed. Wear my black satin outfit. Let’s show off those curves you keep hiding those grandmother sweaters.”

Thirty minutes later, I was standing outside the club, shivering in the satin dress.

Sara fussed with my hair, adjusting the beautiful brown waves around my shoulders.

“Damn,” she murmured, moving back. “You look perfect.”

I wobbled in the heels she made me wear. “I feel naked.”

“That’s the point,” she added with a chuckle, wrapping her arm around mine. “Now smile, songbird. Let’s make some money.”

Inside, the club swarmed with lights, music, and pricey cigar smoke. Waitresses in glittering corsets slid past velvet booths.

The air was heavy with laughing, cocktails, and whispered transactions I’d never comprehend.

As I went inside, heads turned.

Men stared. Women sized me up.

“Who’s that?” I heard someone whisper.

“New girl?”

“She looks untouched.”

My face burned. I kept my eyes down as Sara escorted me to the platform.

Up in the VIP zone, I observed a man sitting in a leather chair.

His dark eyes surveyed the room lazily.

His black hair was slicked back, his outfit looked like it cost more than my entire life. People laughed around him, but he didn’t. He seemed... bored.

Until his gaze rested on mine.

I moved onto the platform, hands grabbing the mic stand. My knees shook so terribly I thought I may fall.

Sara stood near the bar, mouthing one word: Sing.

I closed my eyes, breathed in deep, and let the melody flow.

The room became quiet.

My voice resonated through the air, sweet and yearning, wrapping over everyone like a comforting blanket.

Conversations ceased.

Waitresses froze. Even the piano joined in gently, following my example.

I opened my eyes and saw Alexander sitting erect, his focus riveted on me. His lips parted slightly, eyes flaming with something I didn’t comprehend.

My voice swelled, full with grief and hope. I thought of Ferdinand’s small chest rising and falling with difficulty, and sang from that place in my spirit.

When I reached the final note, the room remained still.

Then the applause burst.

Billionaires stood. Whistles pierced the air. Someone tossed money on the stage.

I stood paralyzed, heart pumping.

In the VIP section, Alexander’s glare locked me in place.

He leaned to the man beside him and whispered, “Bring her to me.”

I observed the helper heading toward the stage.

Panic hit me strongly.

I grabbed my heels, dashed barefoot offstage, and darted into the dressing room. I didn’t change, I just grabbed on my flimsy coat and raced out into the frigid night.

Behind me, Alexander stood still, watching me run. His jaw tensed as he mumbled to his assistant, “No woman says no to me. Find her. I want to know who she is.”

I didn’t notice the black SUV that pulled away gently from the curb as I ran.

But within it, Alexander Oreos watched me through dark windows, his harsh gray eyes fastened on me like I already belonged to him.

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