Trapped by the billionaire’s obsession

"I can work eighteen hours a day, Mr. Davis. I don’t care if I have to clean the floors of Davis Enterprises or manage your entire schedule without a single day off. I will work for free until my life debt to you is fully paid."

Calie Blake stood straight, clutching her cheap handbag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She stared across the massive, sunlit penthouse office at the man sitting behind the mahogany desk.

Richard Davis.

He was the most feared CEO in the city ruthless in business, dangerously handsome, and entirely untouchable.

Right now, his dark eyes were fixed on her, completely unreadable.

He sat in a high tech, sleek black wheelchair.

Every time Calie looked at that wheelchair, a sharp arrow of guilt pierced her chest. Three months ago, a runaway delivery truck had lost control at a Davis corporate gala. Richard had thrown his own body over hers, taking the brutal impact to save her life.

The accident had crushed his spine, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down.

Because of her, the most powerful man in the country could no longer walk.

Richard slowly leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders shifting beneath his expensive, custom-tailored suit. He didn't look like a broken man. Even sitting down, his presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.

"An assistant, Miss Blake?" Richard’s voice was a deep, smooth baritone that sent a cold shiver down her spine. "You think scrubbing my floors or typing my reports is equal to the price of my legs?"

Calie swallowed hard, refusing to look away. "It’s all I have to offer. I want to make things right. I cannot live with the guilt of what happened to you because of me."

A dark, mocking smile touched Richard's lips.

"I don't care about your guilt," he said coldly.

He opened a drawer, pulled out a thick document bound in leather, and slid it across the polished desk. It stopped right in front of her.

Calie frowned, looking down at the bold letters on the cover page: MARRIAGE CONTRACT.

Her breath caught in her throat. She looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. "What... what is this?"

"Your new job description," Richard replied, his tone as casual as if he were discussing a weather report. "You want to pay me back? You will marry me. You will move into my estate, take my surname, and fulfill the duties of Mrs. Davis."

"Are you insane?" Calie took a step back, her shock turning into instant anger. "I came here out of respect and gratitude, Mr. Davis! I am deeply sorry for your legs, but I am not an object you can just buy and lock away in your house! I will not marry you."

She turned around, ready to storm out of the office. She couldn't handle this madness for another second.

"If you walk out of that door, Calie, Blake Cosmetics will cease to exist by 5:00 PM today."

Richard’s voice wasn't loud, but the sheer coldness in it made Calie freeze in her tracks.

She slowly turned back around, her eyes wide. "What did you say?"

Richard tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of his wheelchair. "Your father’s company. It’s drowning in debt, isn’t it? They took a massive loan from a subsidiary bank last month to stay afloat. It just so happens that I purchased that bank this morning."

Calie felt the blood drain from her face. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on her chest as the name of her family’s business left his lips.

Blake Cosmetics.

It wasn't a giant empire like Davis Enterprises. In fact, it was one of the smallest, lowest ranking cosmetic companies in the country, constantly struggling just to keep its head above the waters. But to Calie, it was everything.

She remembered her childhood, watching her father come home past midnight every single day, his hands stained with pigment formulations, his face lined with pure exhaustion. For over twenty-five years, her father had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into that brand. He had built it from a tiny kitchen table setup into a modest local factory.

Every single bottle of lotion and every tube of lipstick that Blake Cosmetics produced represented a sleepless night her father had endured. He had skipped meals, sacrificed his health, and worked himself to the bone just to give Calie and her sister a life, hoping that one day, the brand would finally break through.

Just last week, Calie had seen her father sitting at the dining table, staring at their mounting bills, his hands shaking as he whispered to her mother, "If we lose the company, I lose my soul."

And now, this monster in a wheelchair was threatening to wipe out twenty-five years of her father's sacrifice with a single phone call.

"You... you can't do that," Calie whispered, her voice trembling as the memories flashed before her eyes. "My father worked his entire life for that company. He put everything he had into it! You can't just destroy it because of a petty whim!"

"I can, and I will," Richard said, his dark eyes locking onto hers like a predator cornering its prey. "If you do not sign that contract before you leave this room, I will call in the loan immediately. Your family will go completely bankrupt by evening. Your parents will lose their house. Your sister’s elite university tuition will be canceled. Your father's life's work will be auctioned off for pennies to the highest bidder."

"You are a monster!" Calie yelled, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. She marched back to the desk, slamming her hands down on the wood. "Why are you doing this to me? You don't even like me! You've barely spoken to me since the accident!"

Richard didn't flinch. He leaned forward, his face just inches from hers. The scent of his expensive cologne and pure danger wrapped around her.

He reached up, his large, warm hand suddenly gripping her chin, forcing her to look directly into his dark, obsessive eyes.

"You're right. I don't like you, Calie," he whispered, his grip tightening just enough to make her gasp. "But you belong to me now. Your life was bought with my blood, and I am collecting my payment."

He let go of her chin and pointed to the pen on the desk.

"Sign it. Save your father's dream, or ruin it. The choice is yours."

Calie looked at the pen, her hands shaking. She felt like a bird watching a cage door slam shut. She hated him. She absolutely despised him.

But as she closed her eyes, she saw her father's tired, hopeful smile from that morning. She couldn't let him be destroyed. She couldn't watch his life's work vanish into thin air.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the pen, flipped to the last page, and scribbled her signature next to his.

Richard watched her, his expression completely aloof, but a dangerous, victorious spark flashed deep within his eyes.

"Excellent," Richard murmured, pulling the contract back into his hands. "My driver is already waiting downstairs to take you to your family home. Pack your things. By tonight, you live under my roof."

Calie glared at him, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I might be trapped in your house, Mr. Davis, but I will never be your wife. I will make your life a living hell."

Richard simply chuckled, a dark, chilling sound. "I look forward to it, Mrs. Davis."

Calie turned and rushed out of the office, her heart breaking with every step.

Inside the quiet penthouse, Richard watched the heavy doors close behind her.

The silence stretched for a moment.

Then, slowly, effortlessly, Richard Davis placed both hands on the desk. He pushed himself up, his powerful, muscular legs moving perfectly as he stood to his full height.

There was no pain. No paralysis.

He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking down at the streets below until he saw Calie exit the building and step into his waiting limousine.

A dark, intensely possessive smile crossed his face as he watched his captive being driven away.

"You can fight all you want, sweetheart," Richard whispered against the glass. "But you're never leaving me."

The ride back to her family house felt like her world was ending and she couldn’t do anything about it .

Calie stared out the tinted window of the big, luxurious black car Richard had forced her into. The seats were made of expensive leather, and the ride was so smooth you couldn't even hear the engine, but to Calie, it just felt like a very fancy prison cell on wheels.

As the car pulled up to her family’s small, slightly faded house, she quickly wiped her face. She checked her eyes in her compact mirror, making sure there were no traces of tears left. She had to look strong. If her father found out that Richard was blackmailing her, he would be so upset . He would reject the deal immediately, and that would ruin everything he had worked for.

Calie took a deep breath, opened the heavy car door, and walked Insid.

The moment she stepped into the living room, the air felt thick and quiet. Her parents were sitting together on the old, worn out sofa, looking compl