Author: [writers hub]
Zara Jones stared at the shattered fragments on the polished obsidian floor, her heart mimicking the broken pieces. The prototype, the culmination of two arduous years of her life's work, lay in ruins, destroyed in a single, careless second. A cold dread seeped into her bones, far deeper than the sting of the glass shards she nervously brushed from her arm.
"Miss Jones, you've just cost Botermet Industries nearly a trillion Won."
The words, sharp and precise, sliced through the frigid air from behind her. Ragnar Botermet. The name was whispered with a mix of reverence and terror across Seoul's elite business circles. He stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the city lights filtering through the penthouse windows, his presence as imposing as the global empire he commanded.
Three days ago, Zara was meticulously preparing for the pitch that would finally save her family's struggling design studio. Three days ago, her biggest worry was impressing a minor investor. Now, she was staring at the man who could, with a single command, erase her entire existence. The previous night, a bizarre chain of events had led her, mistakenly, into a restricted R&D lab within the colossal Botermet Tower. A frantic, accidental collision with a robotic cleaner, a toppled experimental display, and now this.
She recalled the blinding flash of reporters' cameras that morning, capturing her stunned face as she was harshly escorted out, the whispered accusations of industrial espionage echoing in her ears. Her studio, her family's dwindling legacy, her entire reputation – everything was now teetering on the brink of absolute collapse.
Ragnar Botermet didn't love her. He didn't even know her, not truly. He despised her, seeing only the clumsy, destructive woman who had jeopardized his most critical, top-secret project. And Zara? She resented him for the absolute, terrifying grip he now held over her fate. His cold, calculating gaze promised nothing but a lifetime of inescapable servitude.
"I... I can explain," Zara stammered, her voice barely a whisper, hoarse from unshed tears. She straightened her shoulders, trying to appear brave, though her knees felt like jelly beneath her. She had always prided herself on her independence, on her ability to overcome any obstacle through sheer hard work. But this man, he was an immovable mountain, an obstacle she couldn't possibly outmaneuver.
Her phone vibrated insistently in her pocket. It was a message from her mother, filled with frantic questions about the viral news reports. Zara's heart constricted painfully. She couldn't let her family suffer because of her accidental, monumental mistake.
"Explain what, Miss Jones?" Ragnar's voice was devoid of warmth, like polished ice. He stepped further into the room, his expensive bespoke shoes crunching softly on the glass and intricate circuitry. "That you were merely clumsy? Or that you were sent by my competitors, perhaps the Kim Group?" His eyes, dark and sharp as a predator's, seemed to pierce through her very soul.
"Neither!" she gasped, her fragile resolve crumbling completely. "It was an accident! I swear!"
He walked past her, his scent of rich, expensive oud and undeniable power overwhelming her senses. He picked up a small, almost intact quantum processor from the floor, examining it with a detached, clinical precision that sent shivers down her spine.
"Accidents, Miss Jones," he said without looking at her, his tone chillingly calm, "have irreversible consequences." He finally turned, his gaze fixing on her, cold and absolute. "And your consequence, it seems, is me."
Her breath hitched in her throat, catching painfully. This was it. The ruin. The complete, utter end of everything she had worked for.
"I have a proposition," he continued, his eyes glinting with a predatory, intelligent fire. "One that will salvage your family's dignity, and perhaps, even your own reputation. But it comes with a singular, non-negotiable price."
Zara could feel her stomach lurch violently. She knew, with a horrifying certainty, that whatever he was about to propose, it would bind her to him, utterly and completely, in a way she could never escape.
"What... what is it?" she managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper, trembling uncontrollably.
He smirked, a cold, unfeeling expression that promised nothing but a lifetime of cold demands. "You will become my wife."