Bound By Contract: The Possessive CEO's Bride

Kaylee twisted the brass doorknob of the bedroom with both hands. The metal was freezing against her palms. The lock mechanism was completely jammed. It did not budge a single millimeter.

Her knees gave out. She collapsed onto the cold hardwood floor, her chest heaving as she struggled to pull air into her lungs.

Sharp, rhythmic clicks echoed from the hallway. High heels. The sound stopped right outside her door. Kaylee's heart slammed against her ribs so hard it physically hurt.

"Put on the engagement dress, Kaylee," Donita's voice pierced through the heavy mahogany wood. The tone was absolute. There was no room for negotiation.

Kaylee's hands started to shake. The tremor traveled up her arms to her shoulders.

"Mitch is waiting," Kallie's voice chimed in from the hallway. A cruel laugh followed. "He might be sixty-five, but he has plenty of money to keep you comfortable. You should be grateful."

Bile rose in the back of Kaylee's throat. Her stomach twisted into a violent knot. The thought of that old man touching her made her skin crawl.

She scrambled to her feet and threw herself at the door. She slammed her open palms against the wood. "Let me out!"

The heavy door did not even rattle. Her palms turned raw and red from the impact. The stinging pain shot up her wrists.

"Your allowance is cut off," Donita said coldly through the door. "You have no money. You have nowhere to go. Be ready in an hour."

The clicking of the high heels faded down the hallway.

Kaylee slid down the door until she hit the floor again. She looked up. The clock on the wall read ten at night. The ticking sound felt like a hammer hitting her skull. Her breathing turned shallow and rapid.

Her eyes darted around the room and landed on the nightstand. An empty jewelry box sat there. It was the only thing her mother had left her. The actual crystal box inside it had been confiscated by Donita.

A sharp ache bloomed in her chest. She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. She forced herself to stand up.

She ran to the floor-to-ceiling windows and yanked the heavy curtains apart. The storm outside was violent. Rain lashed against the thick glass. The wind howled. She took a step back, her body shivering instinctively.

She gritted her teeth and pushed the window open. Freezing rain immediately whipped into the room. It soaked the thin fabric of her nightgown in seconds. Her teeth began to chatter.

She leaned out and looked down. The drop from the second floor to the lawn was steep. The darkness swallowed the ground below. Vertigo hit her hard. The world spun for a second.

She turned around and sprinted to the large bed. She grabbed the edge of the silk bedsheet and pulled with all her might. It came loose. The fabric was incredibly slippery. She tried to tie a knot, but her hands were sweating and shaking.

She brought the silk to her mouth and clamped her teeth down on one end. She pulled the other end with both hands, tearing her fingernails in the process. A sharp pain ripped through her nail beds. The pain cleared her head.

She tied the other end of the sheet around the heavy mahogany bedpost. She pulled on it with her entire body weight. The wooden frame let out a dull creak, but it held.

She climbed onto the windowsill and swung one leg over the edge. A gust of wind hit her chest, nearly throwing her backward. She wrapped her arms around the window frame, her knuckles turning white.

She grabbed the wet silk sheet and slowly lowered herself. The rain made the fabric impossibly slick. She had to squeeze her hands so tight that the fabric dug into her skin, leaving angry red welts.

Halfway down, a loud ripping sound cut through the noise of the rain. The silk tore.

Her body dropped suddenly. A scream tore from her throat, but she instantly slapped her hand over her own mouth to muffle the sound.

She was still six feet above the ground. She let go.

She hit the muddy lawn hard. Her right ankle twisted violently. A blinding flash of pain shot up her leg. She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted copper.

She dragged herself up from the mud. Rain plastered her hair to her face, blinding her. She wiped the mud and water from her eyes and looked toward the main gate.

A bright beam of light swept across the bushes ten feet away. The estate security guards were patrolling. The light was blinding.

Kaylee dropped to her stomach in the mud. She stopped breathing. Her lungs burned.

"Terrible weather for this," a guard muttered. The sound of his heavy boots squelched in the mud and then faded away, masked by a loud crack of thunder.

She exhaled a shaky breath.

She pushed herself up and limped toward the iron fence at the side of the estate. The cold wind sliced across her wet cheeks like tiny blades. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

She reached the side gate. A thick steel chain and a heavy padlock secured it. She shoved the gate with her shoulder. It did not move.

Despair settled heavy in her chest. Then, she looked down.

At the bottom of the fence, years of rust had eaten away a section of the iron bars. The gap was incredibly narrow. She dropped to her knees in the puddle.

She squeezed her head and shoulders through the opening. The jagged, rusted edges of the iron scraped against her bare arms. Warm blood mixed with the cold rain running down her skin. She ignored the stinging and pulled the rest of her body through.

She rolled out onto the asphalt of the public road. It was pitch black. There were no streetlights. The sheer isolation of the road hit her all at once.

A sports car roared past her. Its tires hit a massive puddle, sending a wave of dirty water crashing over her. She wrapped her arms around her freezing body, shaking violently.

An image flashed in her mind. Donita dragging her by the hair. Mitch Ziegler's wrinkled hands touching her skin.

Pure terror injected adrenaline into her veins. She started running barefoot on the rough asphalt. She didn't know how long she ran. Time blurred as her bare feet slapped against the freezing pavement, every second stretching into an eternity of pain and desperation.

She ran toward the direction of the Long Island beach. Her physical strength drained with every step. Her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass. Every breath was agony.

In the distance, near the edge of the beach, several blinding headlights cut through the dark storm. The lights looked like a tear in the fabric of the night. She ran toward them. It was her only chance.