Sold to Sin

ISLA'S POV

Only a desperate bitch signs her life away for money—and I guess tonight, that’s me.

I'm Isla Grant, and I'm in med school.

For now.

If I don't pay up my tuition before the new session starts, well…I'm fucked.

I lost my last job because my boss was a douchebag.

Well, also because I spilled hot coffee on his wife.

It's not entirely my fault. She called me a slut. I guess she's not wrong.

I need money. Real money. And slinging lattes at a sloppy coffee shop just won't cut it.

Which brings me to this moment.

I chew my bottom lip nervously as I stand in front of the double doors, questioning every life choice I've ever made.

Screw it.

If I'm losing my virginity, it might as well be to a smoking hot billionaire.

Cold air wafts up my thighs. I tug down my skirt. Damn Rosie for putting me into this outfit. I look like a Vegas hooker.

Anything to seal the deal, I guess.

“Are you lost?” A deep voice echoes behind me. I turn around and lose my breath.

Tall. Sharp jawline. Eyes that could cut through steel.

If this isn't my contractor, I just might cry.

“Yes, I am. I'm looking for Mr…” I look down at my phone, cursing my hands for shaking so violently.

“Damien Crowe.”

He smiles–perfect teeth, pure danger. My heart flutters.

“You're in luck. Right this way” He pushes through the doors and I catch a faint glimpse of the veins on his forearm.

My knees melt as I follow him into the cold office. His scent envelopes me.

His office smells and looks expensive. I feel out of place in my too tight shirt and miniskirt with fishnets.

His hair looks so soft. I long to run my fingers through them.

He pulls back a chair for me and I settle into it. My skirt rides up and my ass glues to the cold leather.

He hovers behind me. I feel the heat of his eyes roam down my cleavage, burning into my thighs.

The thought of him growing hard behind me sends excited shivers up my spine.

He circles the table and shoves his hands into his pockets. I muster the courage to look at his face again and—

Oh my God!

His eyes are so intent on mine. I blink and look down at my hands.

“I'm Isla. Isla Grant”

He presses both hands on the table and leans toward me.

“Rule number one, Isla. No speaking unless I ask you to.” His voice is low but carries command.

I raise my eyes to meet him.

If he wants a submissive toy, I’ll play the part. Two million reasons say yes.

“Understood?” He presses.

I nod and bite my bottom lip. He blinks and leans back. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a red file and slides it towards me. I can't help but notice his perfectly manicured hands.

“Open it”

I flip through the pages, my heart thudding.

It's thirty-five pages of terms which I know nothing about; exhibition, voyeurism, gagging…

The whole contract spells out one thing–He stays in charge. No matter what.

Six months. On his private island. What the hell is even on that island—chains? Cages? A damn dungeon?

I read through the rules; No phones, no jewellery whatsoever, and no safe words.

There are two forbidden words spelt out in block letters; “NO” and “STOP”

Signing this would mean automatic consent to whatever.

My throat goes dry.

He's just standing there, watching me. Waiting.

The silence in the air feels thick, suffocating me.

What the hell am I getting into?

I think about running through those doors, but to what? I'll be kicked out of my dorm in a matter of weeks.

But is this the only way? Signing my body away for six months felt cold…like surrender.

But I have to.

This is the only way to make quick money.

I pick up the cold pen, heavy with finality.

I slide the signed contract back to him and tuck my shaky fingers between my thighs.

It’s done. I’ve officially sold myself to a stranger with a contract I barely understand. What the hell am I thinking?

He studies my signature.

“Did you even read this, Isla?”

My mouth goes desert-dry. I force myself to swallow.

“Not really. I didn't understand most of it”

He nods slowly. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I would explain it to you, but that'll ruin the surprise”

I don't know what to say in response.

Any lawyer would scream scam, but I didn’t come here for fine print. I came for a payday.

“As agreed, two million dollars will be wired into your account at the end of today, and the rest will come at the end of the deal”

I nod slowly, containing my excitement.

Everything comes at a cost. If mine is total submission to the hottest billionaire in the city, so be it.

I want him to ruin me. I don't care how dirty that sounds.

******

“So you’re really going? You’re gonna let Mr. Tall, Rich, and Scary have you on a leash?” Rosie squeals, jumping on my bed excitedly.

“It’s more of a collar, actually.” I reply, deadpan. I shove my clothes into my huge carry-on. I don't know what to wear, so I pack everything.

Rosie jumps off my bed and rummages through her wardrobe.

“Here. Take this. Put it on before he pops your cherry” She throws a black wrapping paper at me.

I tear it open.

A black lace lingerie stares back at me. I hold it up against the light. There are so many hooks and straps.

What am I even doing? I don't know how to put on simple lingerie and I signed a six month contract with a hot billionaire.

He doesn't even know I'm a virgin. The closest I’ve gotten to sex was a half-hearted finger from my ex.

I'm such a phony.

But there's no going back.

I'm his to own now. Mind, body and soul.

“This stays between us, Rosie. If anyone asks about me, I took a hiatus. Or jumped off a cliff”

Rosie puts one hand to her chest and the other to her lips.

“I promise. They won't even know you're gone.” She pauses and sighs “Just…come back in one piece. I'd hate to mourn you too”

Oh I'll come back, alright.

Just without my virginity. And maybe my heart.