Arranged: Bound By Contract (girlxintersex)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15
Stella POV

A twelve-page document containing conditions and obligations hung over my head. It was virtually suffocating me, and I went to bed with my breath choked like a backed-up drain. I didn't feel very well knowing that I had signed my life away.

There it all was. The agreement was sealed. Mateo wants sex wherever, even on the journey to paradise, and I have to give it to her. If she wants me to dress like a clown and jump on one leg, I'll do it—you get the idea.

I didn't have control over my life. But will it break like an egg and call it quits? No. She'll have to live with my cruel personality.
For she depends on the success of this transaction just as much as my father does.

Everything would fall into place once she invested in my father's firm. My father's casino and Hotel Company will thrive. What had occurred was that my father's firm had a downturn, prompting him to seek alternative sources of income. As previously remarked, it would be an unappealing image to have a casino and hotel closed down in the heart of the city of sins.

I didn't like that I signed this deal naively. I didn't get a chance to read it over. I was immediately thrown into a dress, and before I knew it, Mateo had my life in her palms to play with.
I groaned in frustration as I felt her needle-like fingers delve into my thigh. I assumed that was her way of waking me awake. I have been awake for the past hour. Listening to her gentle snores and praying she'd quit breathing.

I turned and gave her a frown.

"Up,"

"I have been up,"

"Uniform,"

My brow wrinkled in displeasure at her use of single words to address me.

"Can I please get a divorce?"

"No,"

I wanted to ask for it as soon as she showed me the first page of the contract.

"Why?"

"Once signed, you cannot go back on. Didn't you learn this in school? Or are you a naturally dumb blonde?"

"I am not dumb. I have an excellent GPA."
She sneered, clearly not believing me. Still, I had no intention of pursuing her. I was still trapped with her. When I glanced through the curtains, it was still dark outside. I stretched over her side to get my phone, and her delicious perfume filled my nostrils.

That was the only good aspect about this. Her beautiful face and captivating smell. Everything else was a nightmare.

I didn't like how the prominent time on my screen displayed 4:30 a.m. I scowled at her. "It is early. Very early." I could feel a big headache building on. It started at my temple and went straight up to the center of my head.

"We got a late start yesterday. I want my coffee at 5 a.m. and my breakfast by 6. I want the home cleaned. I also want you to go to the flower shop and get some flowers. The front yard looks as dull as your face."

"Do you have to add that insult?"

"Put some makeup on. You look rather awful without it."

"I just wake up you fucking big dick energy. What a pain in my ass!" I shouted, lowering my body into the bed, only to have her perfume tickle my nose. I took a discreet hold of the cover, shoved it up my nose, and took another, very deep whiff.
If I didn't have anything to sniff like a drug addict to soothe my tensions, I would have chopped her dick off.

"Up," She took the blanket from me. The sole source of tranquility. I wished my look could cut her body vertically in half.

"I should have pushed you down the stairs when I got the opportunity yesterday."

"I wouldn't die."

"Why do you believe you're better than death or stronger?"

"Death is constantly gazing at you. I simply grinned back at it. Get up." She proceeded to the bathroom.

"This is my life right now. A wife's life." I affirmed quietly. "A wifey life is probably never happy." They always seemed so stress in Hollywood movies.
****************
Whatever brightness comes my way, I have to accept it. I have to be happy that I didn't have to crawl around with my maid outfit—the maid outfit—no part of that thing was mine to own.

Instead, I was wearing pants that were too wide to go around my waist and hung low, with my hip bones serving as a hanger. I wore large t-shirts, and when I looked in the mirror, I realized I looked like a dull woman with two children and a shit face for a husband.

I had served her coffee which I was very much tempted to poison.
I had prepared her breakfast, which comprised of burned eggs, too light bread, and a beautiful glass of orange juice.

I walked inside her office. The curtains were drawn, giving the room a wonderful radiance from the sun. I extended my hand as I approached her desk. She has her feet pleasantly put out and her gaze fixed on the document at her ring fingers.

"Money,"

"For?"

"To buy the stinking flowers."

"I hope you don't pick flowers with too strong of an odors because you'll have 10 years to water and care for them. Think of them as babies, before your actual babies."

Babies?

Her pen sparkled as she signed and stamped the document before placing it in the file basket. My arms were still extended out.

"I want snacks," I demand, as she slide her hand in her pocket for her wallet. She halted, her scorching gaze fixed on mine.

"We've already got food."

"I don't want that food. "I want snacks, energy drinks, and..." My fingers toyed beneath my chin as I thought about what else I might buy. "Ah, I want roughly 8 packs of gum. There might be more. But you can give me roughly $1,000 to buy whatever I want. I don't care about the flowers." She stung her face in frustration at my straightener grin.
"Chips make you fat. Energy drinks cause heart failure and gum damage your teeth. No."

"You could've just said no and spear yourself from the long lecture. I'll buy it from my pocket." I shrugged cheerfully. My arms were still extended. She eventually slides into her pocket and pulls out a small black wallet.

I couldn't help but tip my toes as she flashed it open. I saw a black unlimited card, as well as a couple other debit and credit cards. However, her fucking finger skated over them, extracting cash. My face and hand sank as I refused to accept cash.

Who did she believe I was? A fucking prostitute on the street.
She better fork out that fucking black card so I can have a field day with it.

"The Black Card." My unhinged eyes mirrored my tone.

She sneered and returned her attention to the wallet. Her fingers, however, did not slip the black card out of the slot; rather, they counted through thin currency. My finger ached to rip her beautiful flesh off.

"I am not handing you my cards. You don't deserve them." She spoke as she handed me the money. I glared at the limp currency. What has become of my life? I've never touched cash. It was always cards. Credit cards. Debit. Travel card. Whatever the occasion, I had a card for it.

"Take it."

"Eww, I can't touch that."
I could feel my skin stinging from being so hypersensitive to this awful behavior. First, we were not in a mansion. Then I basically have to be a slave/wife, and now there's this hostility.

"Take it," she said, growling like a hound dog.

I gasped, appalled. My hand directed the following hand to take it, but I couldn't.

"No!"

"Don't make me get up from this chair and make you take all of it." She gritted.

I whined, prancing in pain on my feet from having to accept currency like the poor. I snatched the money fiercely.

"I fucking hate you!"

She grinned with enjoyment at this. "Make sure they are pretty."

"I wish your dick falls off!"
She leaned back, her palm firmly gripping her junk. "This thing? It's staying to fuck you." She winked.