He Belongs To Me✔️

1|| A Compromise

Copyright© 2018 Chassity White. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

EDITED

Melia

"The lot has been cleared," Shaun says, "When should construction start, Miss."

"Start tomorrow," I say, "I don't like to wait."

Having said what I needed to say, I return to my paperwork. Will, my personal assistant, escorts him out and returns shortly. "Miss," he says. I glance up. He is standing with a tall man with blonde hair and green eyes. "You must be Mr. Anderson" I confirm.

The man nods and says, "Yes I am."

"Sit," I say, gesturing towards the chair in front of my desk.

"Miss. Devereaux" he starts, "I really don't know why you've arranged this mee-"

"Shut up. You don't start the conversations here. I do. You nod your head like a puppet when I speak to you. Understand?"

He clenches his jaw in anger but wisely chooses to say nothing and nods his head instead.

"Good. As to why you're here...I want my money," I say, getting straight to the point.

"What money," he asks, confused.

"The 1.3 million dollars you stole from me," I say, coldly.

He chuckles. "Oh, that," he says, "I didn't steal it. I asked your personal assistant if you could loan some money and with a little encouragement, she gave it to me immediately."

"If you still want to keep your limbs, I'd advise you to stop laughing," I say, coldly, "You seduced my assistant. I want my money. NOW."

He pales and starts spluttering. "I-I c-can't g-give you the m-money right now" he stutters, "My business isn't big enough to repay that kind of money."

"Either give me my money" I state, "or I take your business."

"B-But I've been working really hard. I can't afford to give you my business. It's the only thing that is supporting my family right now. Please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" I ask, leaning forward and folding my hands on the desk.

"Anything" he confirms.

"Okay," I say, "I am willing to compromise." He nods and waits for me to continue.

"What's the name of your son?"

"Um, I don't have a son," he says, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"Really, then who the fuck is this?" I say, pulling out a magazine where there was a picture of him and a cute (read: gorgeous) guy on the cover.

"Um...he's not my son. He's my stepson" he says, crossing his arms.

"I don't really care about the details. I want him in an arranged marriage."

Because why the fuck not. He is the legitimate personification of a Greek God and this girl wanna get herself some.