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50% Awaken / Chapter 6: A Friendly Contract

Capítulo 6: A Friendly Contract

[January 18th, 2017]

[1:05 P. M]

Sebastian Allenson.

A man of few words.

He is the CEO of the biggest company in all of North America. Allenson Corporations. Sebastian is a strict man and a man who always knows what he wants without a second thought. But outside of work, Allenson is just a lonely, fun man. Not a player.

Allenson has soft short black hair and his skin has a slight tan to it, complementing Ivy's skin tone. Warm brown eyes that you can get trapped there for eternity. He stood close to seven feet and had a muscular body build. The blind could even see that he was a fit man and went to the gym often. His hands were enormous with long fingers, both of Ivy's small hands could fit into his big gigantic hands. Ivy and Sebestin were like David and Goliath. But… it would take more than a small pebble to take Sebestin down.

Walking into the calm and quiet study of Sebastian made Ivy feel uneasy. Ivy had always been in chaotic, noisy and loud places but rarely calm, collected and quiet places. She felt quite comfortable in those places.

The maid left Ivy at the door of Sebastian's study, and Ivy knew Sir Allenson was rich, which scared her the most.

His lips curled into a smile once he saw the petite young female walk in.

Her head was down as she watched her feet move instead of watching in front of her. Her adoptive father had lectured and lectured her about how to act proper when you are around someone of higher status than yourself.

[April 25, 2012]

[Time unknown]

"Follow these three rules and you will impress any men or women from the upper class, especially if you are from the middle or lower class, in your case you are from the lowest class." Her father had said he always told Ivy that she was from the lowest class because she was adoptive. Her parents either saw no hope in her or couldn't afford the simple things you need to raise a child. "One always look towards the ground unless they say you can look up at them. It is disrespectful for a servant to look up at the queen. Two, never speak unless you are told to. It's common sense unless you are praying for a death wish. Remember, they have more money than you do so they can easily get you thrown in jail or killed without second guessing it. And third, always obey. This shouldn't be much of a problem for you knowing that I've raised an obedient daughter."

[January 18th, 2017]

[1:05 P. M]

That was the one lecture that Ivy will never forget. Her adoptive father had told her that her entire life, it was drilled in her brain. She didn't want to make a mistake just to give her siblings another reason to laugh at her.

Stopping a few feet away from his desk, she stared at her feet, waiting for him to speak.

Pursing his lips, he was wondering why she was staring at the ground. Was he that scary? Or did she just like watching her feet? The answer could be either, so he decided to think that she just likes to look at her feet.

"Are you done staring at your feet?" He asked.

She didn't know how to respond to the question, so she just nodded.

"Then why don't you look up? Your neck must hurt by now."

'Was that an invitation to look up?' She wondered. Possibly.

After a slight argument in her head, she risked it and slowly raised her head so her emerald green eyes were staring directly in his warm brown ones.

He studied her face for a moment before gesturing towards a black leather armchair in front of his desk, "Sit."

She obediently sat down without a peep.

The lady in front of him was being oddly quiet. Most ladies he talked to were loudmouths, and it annoyed him. Maybe she was still ill, or maybe even mute. She didn't talk when he found her in the snow, but she was too ill and was on the verge of dying. She looked a lot healthier now, so maybe she was mute.

"Tell me your name." In his simple demand, it held lots of power. Ivy could only think of how dangerous this man in front of her was, really.

"I-I-I-Ivy." Ivy stuttered in a low whisper.

"I don't think I heard you." He said.

Ivy nodded and inhaled before speaking louder. Still in a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear, "I-I-Ivy."

He nodded, repeating her name in his head. So she can talk. Maybe she was just shy.

"And surname?"

"A-Alexander."

"Hm." He hummed, picking up a pen and fiddling with it in his hands while leaning back in his chair. She was not a girl from the upper class. He knew other people with Alexander as a surname, but none with the first name Ivy, and all the people were in the upper class.

"What do you truly want? It could be anything. A car, money, library, etc."

The question surprised Ivy; she didn't expect him to ask such a question. He must want something from her, but what? She had nothing and very little skills, which include the skills that slaves had.

"M-my Fashion-on B-Business back." She continued to stutter.

He raised an eyebrow at her request. Her fashion business? Was she a seamstress? O even a tailor? What happened?

"If that is what you truly want… I can give it to you. Or even make your business worldwide if you wish-" He started.

Ivy perked up at the sound of that she was going to get her business back!

"But…" He excitement died down hearing that. There was always a but, wasn't there? "I want you in return." He grinned.

She was confused. Did he want her as another maid? Maybe she could live as that to save her business, but what if he wanted her as a slave? Or even a sex slave? That is something that she won't be able to live through.

"Wh-why do you want s-someone like me? I-I c-can't do an-anything bu-but cook, clean and s-sew." She explained in her whisper. It was quite daring for her to ask such a question to someone of the upper class.

"Well, for many reasons. One, you can do the basics of life. Two, I think your stuttering is cute." He smiled towards her as heat flew to her checks hearing that, "and three…" There was a third reason? If his second reason gave her checks a tinted pink color, she could only predict what his third reason would do. "I think you are the most beautiful lady I laid eyes on, even when I found her in the snow."

She froze. Beautiful? Did she hear him correct? She was told that she was anything but beautiful. Blonds are ugly and stupid, that is what her adoptive father told her. That time her adoptive father was trying to convince her to get her hair dyed brown to look like the rest of her so-called family.

"P-pardon me, b-but I d-don't think I-I heard you correctly."

He raised an eyebrow towards her.

"D-did you just call me b-beautiful?" She clearfield.

He pursed his lips, "Did you find that offensive? If I am being honest, there are really no words to describe your beauty. Beautiful was the first thing that came to my mind." He shrugged it off like it was nothing.

She quickly shook her head, "N-no, I j-just l-l-look at m-myself as a u-ugly blond." She explained, "That is what my father told me." She mumbled.

"Your father told you that? He must be joking. I see no ugliness in you." She nodded and smiled.

"Hm, what is your father's name?" He asked.

She didn't know why he would want her father's name. Was he going to do something bad to him? "D-David A-Alexander." He nodded and noted it in his head, looking up at the ceiling before looking back down to the petite girl, "anyway, do you agree? You can have your fashion business up and running plus anything you want." He started, "In exchange for you living here."

She thought about that. She didn't really have anywhere else to live and also had nothing. Getting her fashion business up and running would be her dream. But was this selling herself just for her dream? Giving away herself to this man in front of her blind to his true intentions, just for her small dream.

After a minute of long thought, she looked back up at him with a nod, meaning yes.

He smiled, handing her a pen. In front of him on his desk was a piece of paper with a contract printed on it, "sign it and then all you can dream for is yours."

"What is it?"

"Just a friendly contract."

Taking a deep breath, she placed the pen on the paper where she was supposed to sign. Was this really all she had to do? Sign a contract, become his, and save her business. Was it really that easy?

Gliding the pen smoothly across the paper, the ink on the paper was in a messy cursive with her first and last name. It took one second before she finished and dropped the pen.

She was finished, she would have her business back and all her debt would be paid. She had a roof over her head and everything that she could ever dream of right at her fingertips. But she had locked herself in a cage where there was no escape from. She was now property of Sebastion Allenson as long as this contract was kept in one piece.

She would never have freedom again, even if she says she was free to go wherever, she was not truly free, she never had freedom in her life.

Now she just needed to inform Mrs and Mr Clair that she found a place so they won't have to worry about her anymore.


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