"Tell me, Damian, was I ever more than a price tag to you?"
Emily's voice trembled, but the fire in her eyes could melt steel itself. The abandoned library reeked of dust and decay, the scent of forgotten pages clinging to the walls. This place had once been her father's sanctuary, a haven of rustling pages, fresh ink, and a man who believed in dreams.
Now?
Now, it was nothing but a graveyard of broken promises.
In Damian's hand was a contract.
A single sheet of paper that held a fate too cruel for words.
"Emily, open your eyes! I've tried everything. The hospital is kicking Dad out soon,you know this. The business is failing. It's in shambles! No one trusts me anymore; they think I'll drain their money just to keep Dad alive. We're out of options. View this from a different perspective."
Emily's fists clenched, her nails feasting into her palms. "So you're blackmailing me? Is that it? What about my dreams, my happiness? Why does Mrs. Stone want me for her son? There must be another way!"
She grabbed Damian's hands, her grip tight despite the tremors in her fingers. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
He looked away, jaw tightening. Guilt.
"He's a good man," Damian muttered.
Emily scoffed, her laughter sharp and humorless. "And how would you know that? You're selling me off like a piece of property!"
"You have value, Emily," he insisted. "Mrs. Stone promised to set me up financially, for even till the fifth generation, we will never smell lack. This is an opportunity for us."
"No, Damian. This isn't about saving Dad, and you know it. It's all about saving yourself," her voice cracking into a scream.
He exhaled sharply. "Dad never had money, even when he was well. But if you marry Adrian, everything changes."
Emily's pulse pounded. "What's the catch? What aren't you saying?"
Damian hesitated. "Just that… he's wheelchair-bound."
Silence.
Emily's laughter,cold and sharp, filled the room.
"So that's it? A wife or a caretaker? Do they even want a bride, or just someone to push his chair?"
"He's more than that, Emily"
"Enough!" she cut him off, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. "You're selfish, Damian. If Mom were alive, she'd never allow this."
A flicker of pain and guilt flashed in Damian's eyes.
But Emily didn't care.
She turned and ran. Away from the betrayal. Away from the suffocating reality Damian wanted to trap her in.
She fled to her safe haven,the one place untouched by time. The place she always came to when she needed to remember.
Her heart hammered as her fingers brushed against an old velvet jewelry box.
She froze.
No… it can't be.
She lifted it slowly, her breath catching. It was the exact one she had admired on her 18th birthday, the one her mother had secretly bought for her but never got the chance to gift.
Her hands shook as she opened it. Inside, carefully folded, was a note.
And it was her mother's handwriting.
"Hey Sunshine, Happy Birthday to you, my Word Lord, weaving magic into ink and inking reality into pictures." "I just hope I can stay with you forever, but I'm not certain of my feelings, Sunshine." "Yeah, yeah, I getcha." "You know what? Come off it, I'm only kidding." "I will be here with you, my princess, till I grow gray."
Emily's pulse stilled.
Her eyes flickered to an old diary beside the box. Her fingers trembled as she traced the ink, the scent of old paper wrapping around her like a childhood embrace. She flipped through the pages, and the memories she had spent years burying spilled back.
On a winter morning.
Her father planting a kiss on her mother's forehead. "My love, thank you for everything. You mean the world to me, my beleza."
Her mother was smiling as she packed breakfast for him and Damian.
Emily had once dreamed of a love like theirs, a love that lasted. A home filled with warmth, not shouting and shattered glass. Not like their neighbors, who broke glass on each other, giving their children an upside-down view of marriage.
"Emily, getting another inspiration?"
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, so vivid it felt real.
Emily would giggle, already reaching for her brushes or notebook.
"Before it fades, go, girl. Go ink it into reality," her mother would say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
And then…
She was gone.
Kidnapped.
Vanished without a trace.
One moment she was there, tucking a stray curl behind Emily's ear. The next, she was ripped from their lives like ink spilled on a perfect page.
No ransom. No clues. No closure.
Just silence.
And eventually, they stopped hoping.
Her family had moved on.
But Emily never had.
What if she was wrong?
Her tears splattered onto the pages.
Damian stood for a few minutes.
Battling with his conscience
"I really wish you could understand my plight kiddo, you are not just a commodity to trade, I don't want to lose you nor Dad. I'm scared, please understand".
So he decides to break the silence ,to have a heart to heart talk with her.
"Emily! Emily!!"
Damian's voice ripped her from the past.
She turned.
There he stood in the doorway, his face lined with regret.
"Let me explain, please."
But the weight of his betrayal crushed her chest like a stone.
Emily squared her shoulders. She wouldn't break. Not this time.
"I'll find another way. I'll get the money for Dad's treatment myself."
She shoved past him.
"Emily, wait! It's really not as you see it, I have dotted all I's and crossed my t's but still nothing to ravage dad's situation."
But she didn't listen ,she didn't stop.
She ran.
As fast as her legs could carry her.
"Family is supposed to protect, love, and che
rish... right?
Then why was mine different?"
So, yeah. I ran, from the brother who didn't see me as family, just a deal waiting to be signed.