Rhyle's cold eyes bore into Mick as he repeated his demand, “Make your decision, little rabbit.”
Mick stood rooted to the spot, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he couldn’t help but feel trapped. A part of him wanted to bolt out of the room and never look back, but he knew that running wouldn’t solve anything. He had to face this. Taking a deep breath, Mick straightened his posture, trying to project an air of confidence that he didn’t truly feel.
“What do you want? Why are you doing this?” Mick’s voice was steadier than he expected, but inside, he was trembling.
Rhyle’s expression remained calm, almost amused. “Oh, dear little rabbit,” he said with a smirk, “I told you, I just want some fun. And one month is not a big deal.”
Mick's frustration grew. How could Rhyle be so dismissive of the chaos he was causing in his life? “But how can I trust you?” Mick pressed, desperately seeking some assurance. “How do I know you’ll destroy everything after one month?”
Rhyle seemed to have anticipated the question. Without hesitation, he walked over to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. With deliberate calmness, he handed it to Mick. “Here,” he said smoothly, “this should ease your mind.”
Mick unfolded the paper, his hands trembling slightly. “What is this?” he asked, his heart sinking as he already suspected the answer.
“It’s a contract, little rabbit,” Rhyle replied, his tone dripping with condescension. “It states that you will do whatever I order you to for one month, and in return, I will destroy all the pictures and videos. That’s all. Now, sign it.”
This time, Rhyle’s voice carried an undeniable authority, leaving no room for negotiation. Mick’s eyes flickered over the words on the contract. Each line felt like a chain wrapping tighter around him. He wanted to resist, to fight back against the unfairness of it all, but the more he read, the more he realised how futile that would be. Rhyle had him cornered, and there was no escape.
Mick’s voice was barely a whisper as he said, “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Rhyle’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “No, you don’t.”
Defeated, Mick reached for the pen Rhyle handed him. His hand shook as he hovered over the signature line, his resolve crumbling. But in the end, he knew he had no choice. With a heavy heart, he scrawled his name on the contract, sealing his fate.
Just as he placed the pen down, Mick’s phone buzzed in his pocket. The screen lit up with the name that sent a cold shiver down his spine—*Dad*. Panic gripped him as he stared at the phone, his mind racing. His father's anger was something he feared more than anything, and the thought of facing him now, after everything that had happened, was almost too much to bear.
He was about to slip the phone back into his pocket and make a quick exit when Rhyle’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. “Answer it,” Rhyle commanded, his voice low and menacing.
Mick’s heart pounded even harder. “I—I'll call him back later,” he stammered, trying to pull away, but Rhyle’s grip tightened.
“No, little rabbit. You’ll answer it now, and put it on speaker,” Rhyle ordered, his eyes daring Mick to disobey.
Reluctantly, Mick swiped to answer the call, his hand trembling as he pressed the speaker button. He could feel Rhyle’s eyes on him, cold and unforgiving.
“Mick,” his father’s voice barked through the speaker, harsh and impatient. “Where the hell were you last night? I told you not to cause any trouble, and yet you can’t even follow that simple instruction!”
Mick swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper as he responded, “I’m sorry, Dad... I—”
“Sorry isn’t good enough, Noah,” his father snapped, cutting him off. “Do you have any idea what kind of attention this could bring? You’re supposed to stay out of the spotlight, not draw it towards us!”
Mick’s hands were clammy with sweat as he tried to steady his breathing. He could feel Rhyle’s intense gaze, watching his every reaction, as if this conversation was just another part of his twisted game.
“I—I didn’t mean to...” Mick’s voice faltered, and he could feel his father’s anger seething through the phone.
“Get yourself home, I have something to talk with you . Don’t make me repeat myself,” his father finished coldly before the line went dead.
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Mick slowly lowered the phone, his heart still racing, his mind reeling from the reprimand. He felt exposed, humiliated, as if Rhyle had stripped him of whatever remained of his dignity.
Rhyle finally let go of Mick’s arm, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “Now, wasn’t that enlightening?” he teased, his voice dripping with mockery.
Mick didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His throat felt tight, and all he wanted was to get out of there. “Can I go now?” he asked, his voice small and defeated.
Rhyle’s eyes softened just a fraction, but the amusement never left them. “Of course, little rabbit. But remember, our fun is just beginning.”
Without waiting for another word, Mick turned on his heel and left the office, feeling Rhyle’s gaze burn into his back as he made his escape. The weight of the contract in his pocket felt like a leaden reminder of the new reality he was now trapped in, with no clear way out.
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YOU ARE READING
Broken promises
Romantiek**Description:** Mick Williams, a boy blessed with both looks and talent, lives under the shadow of his father's disdain. Despite being adore by everyone for his kind heart and gentle nature, he is haunted by the guilt placed upon him by his father...
