Chapter 3 Boar Restaurant

I stood in front of the mirror in my room, looking for the perfect dress to wear to the Boar Cafeteria downtown.

Zane had already given me the card yesterday back at Club Venom.

Now all I had to do was go see him and sign the contract.

That's all.

I looked around my dressing room. I had no good clothes to wear. I pulled out one dress, looked at it, and put it back. I checked another one, but I didn't feel like wearing it. I finally gave up and went with my jeans and red top. I took a jean face cap too, then brought out my phone, sighing deeply before booking a ride.

When the car arrived, I quickly thought to myself, Just sign the contract and leave.

The driver was so generous and lively. He opened the back door for me with a smile, and I got in.

Maybe today was supposed to be fine. Meeting a dangerous masked man. How believable, I thought to myself.

Our ride downtown was stressful. There was an accident that blocked the main road, so we had to wait for about five minutes before we could continue. I lowered the glass beside me to get some fresh air. I kept looking outside until the traffic finally started moving again.

It was supposed to be a twenty-two-minute journey, but we finally arrived at the Boar Cafeteria.

When I walked out of the car, I watched it drive off.

I stood outside and stared at the signboard. This was the place. My fingers tightened around the card in my hand as I took a slow breath.

I looked down at the card Zane had given me. How bad could it be? I thought, before looking back at the cafeteria doors. I took one more breath, then approached the doors and stepped inside.

The cafe looked so expensive and bright, with chocolate-colored walls and soft rug mats.

There was an old, dusty television hanging on the wall on the left side.

My eyes scanned the rows of fine leather chairs as I moved further inside.

The sight of his jacket and familiar smell hit me first. Dark coffee and whiskey, just like I had noticed at the lounge.

The rope from his mask was still clearly visible, showing that he was still wearing the mask even out in the open.

His back was turned toward me, and his dark hair looked so soft under the sharp sunlight.

I felt the urge to turn back and act like I was never here in the first place. What was I doing? Was this really how I was going to sign away my life and freedom to a stranger for money?

My heart wouldn't stop pounding inside my chest.

I stepped forward. I kept moving anyway. When I stopped in front of the masked man, I turned my face slowly toward him. I could feel my own heartbeat trying to explode out of my chest.

If not for Jason, who was in the hospital, I wouldn't be doing this. I also needed to find a way to pay him back. Two months. Two months sounded like two years to me. I wasn't used to being anyone's submissive woman or anything. But this... I would do anything to make sure Jason stayed alive. I also trusted Sarah, so I had to make the move.

He never turned his face to even look at me. He just sipped from the cup in front of him. That could be whiskey, or maybe red wine. Then he cleared his throat and nodded toward the seat in front of him.

"Sit," he said.

I sat, clenching my fists so tightly that heat filled my spine.

"So, you're ready to sign the papers?"

I nodded twice.

Then he pushed a brown envelope across the desk toward me.

"Sign it," he muttered.

I pulled the papers from the large brown envelope and began reading. Clause one stated that I was required to do whatever the masked man asked of me without questioning his orders.

My breath caught for a moment, but I forced myself to keep reading. The further I went, the worse the conditions became. By the last page, I was staring at a list of rules that made my stomach twist.

I was expected to follow every order without question. I couldn't leave the mansion unless I was given permission. I wasn't allowed to keep friends or make calls unless he contacted me first. And I had to remain in the mansion until the contract ended.

I lowered the papers slowly, staring at them as if they had somehow changed while I was reading.

I was glad I had a pen in my back pocket, so I brought it out, signed the papers, and pushed them back to him.

He only stared at them for a second before arranging the papers neatly again. Then he took the last seat on the other side of the table and shook my hand.

"My driver will pick you up tomorrow," he said.

I blinked twice. My brain wasn't catching up with anything anymore, and I stood up.

"Can I drop you off?" he asked.

"No, no, no. I'm good," I said.

"Are you sure? You don't want me to drop you off at your place?"

"No. Thank you." I dismissed him and turned to leave.

"I insist," he said.

He insisted, and somehow, I ended up going with him.

His dominance was hard to ignore. His aura was so strong that I could almost feel his possessiveness around me. It felt like he already owned me, and I had to live with the fact that, for the next two months of my life, the man who always wore a mask with the same dagger-and-serpent mark on his wrist might be my parents' killer—or someone I wouldn't be able to resist.