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Bound To The Devil From My Past Novel Cover

Bound To The Devil From My Past

To rescue her family's failing business, a woman marries Ellsworth Marshall, a billionaire she hasn't seen in fourteen years. She soon realizes he is the boy she once bullied, and he has returned for vengeance. He treats her like a servant, forcing her to care for his nephew while threatening to ruin her family. Trapped in a cruel game of retribution, she must endure his humiliation and protect an innocent child from their dark, shared history.
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Chapter 6

The lawyers filed out, leaving the two men alone in the heavy silence of the office. The air felt thick, charged with the aftermath of the signing.

Warren repeated his question, his voice hoarse. "What do you really want?"

Ellsworth didn't answer immediately. He stood by the desk, his fingers casually adjusting his cufflinks. The gesture was arrogant, dismissive, as if Warren's question was beneath his notice.

His gaze drifted across the desk, landing on a framed photo. It was Ashlie, smiling brightly in her graduation gown, her eyes full of hope.

Ellsworth's posture shifted, an almost imperceptible change. He didn't soften, but the harsh lines of his shoulders seemed to settle as he stared at the image. Warren couldn't decipher the look-it wasn't just coldness, but it wasn't warmth either. It was something else, something intense and possessive that made the hairs on Warren's arms stand up.

"What I want," Ellsworth said, his voice low, "doesn't depend on me. It depends on her."

Warren frowned. "Her? Ashlie?"

"Who else?" Ellsworth scoffed. "Did you think I bought half your company to be friends with an old man?"

Warren flinched but held his ground. "What are your plans for Ashlie? If this is about revenge for what happened back then-"

"Revenge?" Ellsworth cut him off with a cold laugh. "Mr. Bradford, you give me too little credit. I have no interest in childish games."

The denial confused Warren even more. If not revenge, then what?

"I married her for one reason," Ellsworth said, stepping closer to the desk. "To provide a stable family environment and a legal mother for my nephew, Keenen."

Warren stared at him, bewildered. His mind screamed that it was a lie. What a preposterous excuse! He expects me to believe he spent five billion dollars to find a nanny for his nephew? He must think I'm an absolute fool. This is a smokescreen, a ridiculous story to hide his real intentions. The real reason, the terrifying reason, is about Ashlie herself. "That's it? You could hire the best nannies in the world. Why marriage? Why Ashlie?"

"I've reviewed her file," Ellsworth said, his tone clinical. "She's clean, intelligent, and the Bradford upbringing wasn't entirely useless. She needs money, and I need a wife. It's a fair trade."

He paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "As for how I treat her... that will depend entirely on her performance."

Warren felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. "Performance?"

"Whether she can make Keenen happy," Ellsworth said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Whether she can play the role of a competent aunt. Whether she can... please me. If she performs well, the Bradford Group remains safe, and you and your daughter live comfortably."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from Warren's. "If she fails... Mr. Bradford, you know as well as I do that destroying a company is much easier than saving it."

The threat was explicit. He was tying Ashlie's well-being to the survival of the entire family. She was a hostage, and her good behavior was the ransom.

Warren's heart sank. He had saved his company, but he had placed his daughter in a gilded cage with a master who held all the keys.

Ellsworth straightened up, turning away from the despair on Warren's face. He walked toward the door.

At the threshold, he stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, his tone casual. "Ashlie will be moving into the Long Island estate tonight. It's part of the agreement."

Without waiting for a response, he walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Warren collapsed into his chair. He felt like he had aged a decade in the last hour. He had sold his daughter's happiness, and the price was a prison.

He reached for the phone, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He wanted to call Ashlie, to warn her, to tell her to run.

But his hand trembled, and he slowly placed the receiver back down.

What could he say? It was done. He was the one who had pushed her into the tiger's den.

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