Bound To The Devil From My Past

Warren gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Please, sit."

Ellsworth didn't sit. He continued to stand by the window, his back to Warren, looking out at the city. The posture was one of ownership, of a predator surveying its territory.

Warren signaled to his secretary to bring coffee. He glanced at his legal team, who were hovering near the door, looking nervous. They were outmatched, and they knew it.

Warren braced himself. He had prepared for the worst-a demand for total control, a hostile takeover, the complete destruction of the Bradford legacy. He was ready to beg for scraps.

Ellsworth turned around. He didn't look at the documents Warren had spread out on the desk. He didn't look at the lawyers. He looked directly at Warren.

"My terms are simple," Ellsworth said.

Warren's heart hammered against his ribs.

"I will inject five billion dollars into the Bradford Group," Ellsworth said, his tone flat. "This will cover all your debts and resolve your cash flow issues."

Warren blinked. Five billion? That was more than double what they needed to survive. It was a miracle.

"And in exchange?" Warren asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Ellsworth held up a hand, showing five fingers. "I want forty-eight percent of the equity."

Warren stared at him, stunned. Forty-eight percent? He had expected seventy, eighty, even ninety. Forty-eight percent meant the Bradford family would still retain half the company. They would still have a voice.

It made no sense. If Ellsworth wanted revenge, why leave them with anything?

Warren's mind reeled, searching for the trap. This is impossible. He's offering a partnership when he could have demanded our heads on a platter. What is he playing at? Is he trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he guts the company from the inside? Or is there some hidden clause, some poison pill I haven't seen yet? This has to be about Ashlie. This is the price for her, but what is the true cost?

"Don't misunderstand," Ellsworth said, his lips curling into a cold smile. "I have no interest in running a failing fashion house. I need a compliant local manager."

He paused, letting the words sink in. "So, you will remain as CEO."

Warren's jaw dropped. He kept the equity. He kept his job. This wasn't a takeover; it was a gift wrapped in razor wire.

He searched Ellsworth's face for the trick, the hidden trap. "Mr. Marshall, are you... are you sure about these terms?"

Ellsworth checked his watch, his expression hardening. "My time is valuable. You have three minutes to decide. After that, the offer is off the table, and I will instruct my team to begin a hostile takeover. If that happens, you won't leave this room with one percent of the shares."

The threat was real. It hung in the air, sharp and deadly. But it was wrapped around an offer that was impossibly good.

Warren's mind raced. He didn't understand this man. Ellsworth spoke like an enemy, but he was acting like a savior. Was this for Ashlie? The thought terrified him. If Ellsworth was doing this for Ashlie, what did he plan to do to her?

Two and a half minutes passed. Ellsworth tapped his foot, the sound like a ticking bomb.

Warren had no choice. He couldn't risk the company. He couldn't risk his family's future, even if the cost was his daughter's freedom.

He took a deep breath and reached across the desk, his hand trembling. "I agree."

Ellsworth ignored the hand. He just nodded to his assistant. "Bring in the legal team. We sign the letter of intent now."

The efficiency was terrifying. Within minutes, the table was covered in documents. Pens scratched against paper. The fate of the Bradford Group was sealed.

As Warren signed the last page, he looked up at Ellsworth, who was standing by the door, putting on his coat.

"Mr. Marshall," Warren said, his voice low and desperate. "What do you really want?"

Ellsworth stopped. He turned slowly, his eyes like chips of ice. He stared at Warren, his gaze piercing, demanding the truth.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Warren felt a chill run down his spine. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.