The morning sun sliced through the gap in the curtains, hitting Eloise directly in the eyes.
She groaned, turning her head on the pillow. Her entire body ached. Her muscles felt heavy and bruised. She reached her hand across the mattress, expecting to feel a warm body.
The sheets were cold. The space beside her was empty.
Eloise opened her eyes. She sat up slowly, pulling the silk blanket up to cover her chest. She looked down at her arms and collarbone. Faint red marks dotted her pale skin. The physical evidence that last night wasn't a nightmare.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath, forcing the lump in her throat down. She didn't have time to cry.
A sharp, rhythmic knock echoed from the front door downstairs.
Eloise threw the blankets off. She grabbed a thick cotton robe from the chair and wrapped it tightly around her body, tying the belt in a hard knot. She walked barefoot down the stairs. The wood felt freezing against her toes.
She looked through the peephole. A woman in a sharp grey business suit stood on the porch, holding a black leather briefcase. Her face was completely blank.
Eloise unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"Good morning, Ms. Brandt," the woman said. Her voice was crisp and professional. She held out a plain white business card. "I am Cameron Shaw, executive assistant to Mr. Clarke."
Cameron didn't wait for an invitation. She stepped past Eloise into the narrow entryway and walked straight into the living room. She set her briefcase down on the glass coffee table and popped the latches.
She pulled out two thick stacks of paper and a heavy Montblanc fountain pen. She arranged them neatly on the glass.
"Mr. Clarke requested these be signed immediately," Cameron said, pointing to the documents. "The prenuptial agreement and a standard non-disclosure agreement."
Eloise walked over to the coffee table. She stared down at the fifty pages of dense legal text. Her stomach churned.
"I will summarize the core clauses to save time," Cameron said, her tone robotic. "During the marriage, you have no right to interfere in Mr. Clarke's personal life. In the event of a divorce, you leave with zero assets. You are required to play the role of a devoted wife at all public events. Any breach of these terms will result in the immediate withdrawal of the fifty million dollar capital injection."
Eloise stared at the black ink. She felt like a piece of property being cataloged and restricted.
She reached out and picked up the Montblanc pen. The metal barrel was freezing cold against her fingers.
The cold metal instantly sent a violent flash of memory through her brain.
Yale University. Sophomore year. The basement of the Sigma Chi fraternity house was packed with sweating bodies and cheap beer. The strobe lights flashed, making everyone look like they were moving in slow motion. Eloise had gripped a folded piece of notebook paper so hard her hands cramped. She walked up to Christian, who was standing in the corner. She held out the letter, her heart pounding out of her chest, stuttering as she confessed she had liked him since boarding school.
Christian had looked at the letter, then up at her. His eyes were filled with absolute disgust. He took the paper, ripped it perfectly in half, and dropped it into a plastic trash can. Keep your rich-girl games away from me, he had sneered loudly. The entire room had erupted in laughter.
The memory burned her chest. Eloise's fingers trembled around the heavy pen.
Cameron tapped her watch. "Mr. Clarke's patience is limited, Ms. Brandt. I suggest you sign."
Eloise sucked in a sharp breath. She blinked away the burning tears in her eyes. She flipped to the last page of the contract. She pressed the nib of the pen to the paper and signed her name in quick, sharp strokes.
The scratch of the pen against the paper sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room. It sounded like a door locking shut forever.
Cameron immediately snatched one copy of the contract and slid it back into her briefcase. She snapped it shut.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a heavy silver key embossed with the Clarke family crest, along with a small white card. She placed them on the glass table.
"The address is on the card," Cameron said, walking toward the front door. "You are expected to move into the Upper East Side penthouse by eight o'clock tonight. Failure to arrive is a breach of contract."
The front door slammed shut. The draft from the closing door fluttered the pages of the remaining contract on the table.
Eloise's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the sofa. She reached out and picked up the heavy silver key. Her fingers closed tightly around the metal edges. She stared blankly at the white ceiling.
She wasn't Eloise Brandt anymore. She was just a purchased asset.
