Two Brothers, One Contract: I Chose My Own Heart

I heard the debt collector say in a malicious tone, "One point two million dollars. If you cannot pay it back, then you will have to settle the debt with your daughter."

My father, Richard Parker, who had gambled away our lives and piled up crushing high-interest loans, clutched my hand tightly.

"Chloe, please help me. Have mercy on me!" He said pleadingly.

I'm Chloe Parker, and in that moment, my blood turned to ice. I shut my eyes in despair.

Just then, a black Rolls-Royce silently came into view.

Inside sat a man who seemed like a predator hiding itself for a hunt. With nothing more than a single glance, he made the menacing debt collector flinch.

"Sign the contract," he said to me, "or let them take you. Your choice."

He held out an agreement and two photographs. "These are my two sons. It will be your eighteenth birthday three months from now, and after that, you will pick one and be engaged to him."

His sons in the photos looked about my age, and they bore a faint resemblance to each other.

Yet one of them looked cold and distant, the other gentle and refined.

Behind me, the thugs who were brought by the debt collector were still watching us like hungry wolves. My father stood there, spineless and useless. I had no choice. So I signed my name with a trembling hand.

Yet I did not notice that the man studied my face and murmured under his breath so softly I could not hear, "She looks just like her..."

...

Only after signing did I learn that the man was George Parker, the richest man in Riverton City.

I could not understand why someone like him would ever take an interest in a girl from the slums.

But the contract was sealed. I was required to move into the Hayes Manor, his house, before my eighteenth birthday and spend time getting to know his two sons.

When the driver carried my battered suitcase into the manor, I was stunned.

The living room was high enough to put our entire alley into it. The marble floor gleamed so brightly I could see my own reflection. There were exquisite dark-gold carved patterns in the banister of the staircase.

A butler stood at the entrance, bowing slightly. "Miss Parker, this way please."

Dragging my suitcase, I followed him.

As we reached the foot of the stairs, footsteps echoed from above.

A young man came down holding a mug.

He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his smile was disarmingly bright.

He saw me and flashed a warm smile at me. "So you are Chloe Parker?"

His eyes swept over me once, then he lifted his eyebrows playfully. "Welcome. My fiancee, aren't you?"

His blunt words made my cheeks burn.

Probably sensing my discomfort, he stopped teasing me right away, quickly descended the steps, and smoothly took my suitcase from the butler's hand.

He said, "I am Ethan Hayes."

Before I could even respond, he already had my suitcase.

"The south-facing room has been prepared for you. Great sunlight there," he added, glancing sideways at me, his voice warm.

When he smiled, faint lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

For some reason, the house suddenly did not feel quite so cold anymore.

"I will show you upstairs," Ethan said, leading me upstairs.

We had just stepped onto the first stair when a door slammed open at the far end of the second-floor hallway.

Another young man emerged from his room.

He wore a baseball glove loosely on his hand. He wore a black tank top that revealed sharply defined arms.

He glanced at me, his eyes full of disdain.

"So this is the girl our old man found on the street?" He said lazily, his voice dripping with mockery.

Anger surged through me.

I clenched my fists, biting back the urge to snap at him.

"Liam," Ethan said, his tone dropping lower, "watch your mouth."

Liam Hayes, the young man who was harsh on me, snorted, turned on his heel, and went back into his room, slamming shut the door hard.

Ethan turned to me with an apologetic smile. "Do not take it personally. He is like that with everyone."

I stayed silent, my gaze still fixed on the closed door to Liam's room.

My room was on the east side of the second floor.

Deep blue curtains framed the windows, and the bed was neatly made.

Ethan put my suitcase in the corner, then pointed to the wardrobe. "We got you your school uniforms. You can find them in there."

"Thank you," I said.

He walked to the doorway, paused, and added gently, "Good night, Chloe."

Then he closed the door gently behind him.

I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the bed, but couldn't fall asleep.

After tossing and turning until the small hours, I finally gave up. I got out of bed and walked to the window in the corridor barefoot.

The full moon hung in the sky, shining cold and pale light.

It was pitch dark in the backyard below, except for a single lamp burning in the farthest corner.

Suddenly, a dull thud broke the silence.

I looked down and saw Mathew standing inside the batting cage.

Over and over, he swung, hit, and reset his bat.

His T-shirt was soaked through with sweat, clinging to his back so tightly I could see his shoulder blades tense and relax with every motion.

After about twenty minutes, he stopped to catch his breath.

Then he lifted his head and stared up at the moon.

From this distance, I could not make out his expression.

But I saw his whole body go rigid. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if all the strength had been drained from him in an instant, making him look a bit lonely and depressed.

I suddenly felt a sting in my heart when I saw this.

I shut my eyes tight and thought to myself, standing in the dark, that I had to get a grip, and reminded myself that this was just a deal, so anyone's feelings were none of my business.