Regan, then, took over. He walked in front of me, guiding the path, he turned left, slowly, for me to keep his pace a meter away from me. I watched his broadened back, and his tousled jet-black hair bounced accordingly to his movement.
I couldn't believe it, one night I was in my side hustle, in an event, serving alcoholic beverages to the guests, got into an accident, being dragged, gotten witness to a raid, suddenly, this man, Regan Rancere, owner of the might Rancor Group of Companies appeared, being swallowed to his dominion, and now, a walking without a visible chain prey to him, entangled, closer to threats and danger... was taken hostage of him, into his strings.
He opened the door, and for a moment, I hesitated, but God knows how I wanted to feel the softness of a bed. I entered, but he pulled my wrist. This time, it is filled with gentleness, as if he were holding a fragile glass.
"My proposal was still up. Tell me if you are in, and I will gamble to your bet," in a suggestive yet yearning tone, he releases my wrist afterwards.
I looked the other way, as if I was ignoring him. "Bet with me, Serahtti. I will assure you the most precious thing in your life," he pleaded, for the first time, he called me by my name. I was surprised.
I am not used to his tone right now; his words are arrogant, without threats, gaslighting, without his red flag personality, just a pure plea.
I mouthed in a curious expression, "What do you mean by your last clause?"
I bet he understood what I was talking about, yet he stayed silent.
I motioned gracefully in the air, repeating my question of what he meant by his last sentence.
"Your answer comes first."
"—"
Fine!
This time, I was the one who dragged him into the room. With the door's closed, I reached again for his pocket, aiming for his phone, he did not resist, as if he was used to this demeanor of mine.
"Answer my damn question, Regan, what do you mean by your last clause?"
Irritably waited for his response. He answered, nonchalantly, "Your Mother," making me stare at him, in complete shock.
Wait a damn minute.
He really knew how to pique my interest that well. All of a sudden, all of my hunger, tiredness, and sleepiness were gone in an instant.
How did he know about my mother's case?
Is he playing with fire with me now? Is he using my mother to lure me into his lair, isn't he?
I typed again, "What about her? And how did you know my name?" asking for an answer.
"Anything is possible, within my hands, will I take that as a yes?"
I gulped, torn between whether to take the bait or ignore him completely... but I was here already, not in a million chance this would ever happen again. His proposal was tempting me to death.
"What was your deal?" I answered.
I sat down on the sofa near me, due to exhaustion and his sudden proposal.
"Eat first," he cut me off my bubbles.
I angrily stared at him.
"Your. Proposal. Now." I typed again and showed the screen.
He looked at me back, now back to his serious face, "Marry me."
My heart dropped.
What the goddamn fck was he talking about?
"You gotta be kiddin' me—" he stopped my hands from typing, he added, "Just be my Secretary— disguised as marriage," he announced it was as if his proposal was just a piece of cake. It is as if marriage were just a piece of paper, a contract for his own source of entertainment.
I wanted to laugh at his unserious bluff; however, he stayed serious, waiting for me to absorb the situation.
"What for?" I successfully typed.
"For my well-being," he simply replied. I still don't get him.
"What if I don't?"
"Then I will force you to marry me instead."
His words are threatening.
Should I fall for it or stay where I belong?
IN A BLINK OF AN EYE, I am now Serahtti Aravalle—Rancere. Loving wife-slash-secretary of the great business tycoon, Regan Rancere, a multi-billionaire and a distinguished man in the Corporate world, he, who, behind the scenes, is an infallible being who plays the strings inside the black market.
Masked by a facade of ruthlessness, Marked by cadence.
In search of my lost personality, I entered his domain. A lion's lair.
Claiming his surname was the least thing that could happen to someone like me. From my side hustle, as a waitress, janitress, a part-time tutor— to a now full-time wife of a business figure. This was a fairytale-like story, on the darker side.
Sealing the contract with a traditional blood compact on it. I signed it with my thumb's drop of blood. Regan did his part, too. With the contract being sealed, he burnt it, ashes were flown into thin air afterwards.
He took the metal, heated, he handed it to me. I nervously stamped it on his chest. Burnt flesh stung my nose. He, too, did the same. He stamped it on the back of my shoulder.
I felt the burning sensation, I closed my eyes, and for a moment, it took my breath away.
I bet the wage. On him. On Regan Rancere. And there is no turning back, because death is the only punishment if one of us breaks the contract.
I made a bet with a ruthless man in exchange for my selfishness. He pulled me closer to him, and he whispered to my ear, "Only my death will make you out of my sight, Serahtti Aravalle, only my lifeless... corpse." He, then, his lips reach for my fresh wound he made. His left a sweet small peck on it. I felt his obsession grew wider.
Bound by his loop. Marked by Cadence.
Author's Note
The first half of the story has now been completed, and I am deeply grateful to everyone who has supported this novel from the very beginning up to this point. Your patience and encouragement mean the world to me.
The second half will be published shortly, and I assure you that the story is only just beginning to unravel. As we move forward, expect the suspense to tighten, the climax to unfold, and the scenes to grow darker, bolder, and more intense.
Thank you once again for walking with me on this journey. The best—and the most gripping—chapters are yet to come.