Sold To The Billionaire In A Coma

Chloe POV:

I didn't sleep at all. The sky outside my small window shifted from inky black to a dull, bruised gray. My heart felt just as cold and numb.

In the morning, Freya didn't even bother to knock. She pushed the door open and frowned when she saw me still in my pajamas.

She threw an expensive-looking white dress onto my bed. "Get changed. The Carlisles will be here in an hour."

I stared at the dress. It was beautiful, but to me, it looked like a sacrificial robe.

"I'll say it again. I'm not getting married," I said, my voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

Freya crossed her arms, a cold smile on her lips. "It's not up to you. The contract is signed. Your father and I signed it for you."

Blood rushed to my head. "You had no right!"

"We are your legal guardians. We have every right," Freya said, her voice dripping with self-righteousness. "We raised you. Now it's time for you to repay our kindness."

Her words were a dull knife, twisting in a wound that was already festering.

I stopped arguing. I knew it was pointless. I silently picked up the dress.

My compliance seemed to please her. Her tone softened slightly. "That's a good girl. Remember, smile, don't talk much, and act like you're excited about this marriage."

I changed into the dress and stood before the mirror. The girl staring back at me had a pale face and empty eyes. The beautiful dress looked like a cruel joke on her.

When I went downstairs, Fred was pacing anxiously in the living room. He saw me, his lips moved as if to say something, but he remained silent.

Freya was directing a cleaning crew, making sure every last speck of dust was gone. The room was immaculate, a perfect picture of fake sophistication.

The doorbell rang, sharp and punctual, like a death knell.

Freya's face immediately transformed. Her back hunched slightly, and a sickeningly sweet, overly eager smile plastered itself on her face as she practically sprinted to open the door. "Oh, Mrs. Carlisle, Mr. Carlisle, welcome, welcome! Please, come in! It is such an absolute honor to have you in our humble home!"

I stood nervously at the bottom of the stairs, my palms slick with cold sweat. I couldn't bring myself to look up.

I heard an elegant, slightly detached female voice. "Mrs. Kowalski, good morning." That must be Eleanor Carlisle, the formidable matriarch of the Carlisle empire, born into old money and known for her ruthless perfectionism.

Then a calm, steady male voice. "Thank you for having us." Montgomery Carlisle, the iron-fisted CEO of the Carlisle Group, a man who built his fortune crushing his competitors.

Freya ushered them into the living room, bowing so low she almost scraped the floor, while Fred hurriedly pulled out chairs for them like an obedient servant. I was forced to look up.

Eleanor Carlisle was exactly as I'd imagined. She wore a perfectly tailored Chanel suit and a sapphire necklace, her icy blue eyes sharp and assessing.

Montgomery Carlisle was more understated in a custom suit, but he carried an air of authority that was impossible to ignore.

Their eyes swept over me. Eleanor's gaze lingered, and I felt like a piece of livestock being appraised at auction. None of them acknowledged me as a human being, I was simply a necessary prop for their transaction.

Freya pulled me forward. "This is my daughter, Chloe. She's been so looking forward to this marriage."

I managed a stiff twitch of my lips, but no sound came out.

Eleanor ignored Freya's fawning. She got straight to the point. "Mrs. Kowalski, we are here to finalize some details and inform you of our decision."

Her directness cooled Freya's enthusiasm a few degrees.

Montgomery spoke, his tone gentle, but his words hit me like a lightning bolt. "Given Blake's condition, we want the wedding to happen as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The word escaped my lips before I could stop it. Freya pinched me hard from behind.

Eleanor's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. She was clearly displeased with my outburst.

Freya quickly tried to smooth things over. "Of course, of course, we completely agree. Chloe is just so excited, aren't you, darling?"

The room started to spin. Tomorrow? I was going to be married to a man in a hospital bed? A married widow?

I couldn't breathe. The world was blurring at the edges.

I could only hear Eleanor's cool voice continuing on, discussing the wedding ceremony, the timing of the press release, and the "contractual obligations" I would have to fulfill, completely ignoring my obvious distress.

They were treating my life like a corporate merger. As I watched Freya and Fred nodding vigorously like lapdogs, the panic in my chest began to harden into a cold, sharp anger. If they treated me like a silent prop, I would show them exactly how loud I could be.