bound | reus

19.

Romessa cleared her throat and scooted her seat away from Robert's, instantly earning her a glare from William. Realizing that she couldn't remain silent for the entire time, she finally forced her eyes to meet Robert's. She knew she couldn't seem cowardly—she couldn't let him see how much he'd destroyed her. That's what he wants, she thought, as she pursed her lips. In an attempt to sound as confident as possible, she spoke. "William has told me that you'd like to invest in the program."

Robert smirked, a clear display of power. He knew that she was still traumatized, and that there was nothing she could do about it—and he knew that in investing in her program, he would have even more power over her. She desperately wished that she could stop everything and tell William the truth about what Robert had done to her, but they both knew that she couldn't do even that—because to do so would reveal her past affair with Marco. "I see amazing potential in Athleta," began Robert. "My offer is simple. In exchange for an 8% share in your program and 10% of the profit for the first five years after it becomes available on the market, I'll invest ten million euros—yearly—in the program. Whatever remains unused is to be utilized under your discretion, so long as it isn't for immoral purposes."

Romessa felt her mouth fall open; felt her body buzz with an undeniable sensation of relief and excitement. It was an offer she couldn't refuse. The amount necessary to operate her program was just shy of seven million euros—this deal would make her a virtual millionaire. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't ignore the red light which flickered on and off. It won't be your money, she reminded herself. It'll be his. "What's the catch?" Inquired Romessa, finally blinking herself back into the present. But what choice do you have, Romessa?

"The catch?" William spoke, sliding forward a contract that had evidently already been drafted and prepared for her signature. "As long as you remain free of a criminal record and are mentally competent, there is no catch, Romessa. This is the best type of offer you'll receive at this stage. Even the league couldn't match something this generous."

Romessa knew that William was right, but the last thing she wanted was to accept funding from her rapist. But doesn't have to be forever. Once the program hits the market, and once it makes its own money—I won't need his. She could hardly think straight as her eyes scanned the paper, the words all blurring into one another. All she wanted was to be out of the same vicinity as Robert. With a trembling hand, she grabbed one of William's expensive fountain pens before signing her signature, hardly managing to do so without driving the pen off of the paper. She stood up immediately after, ignoring the approving smile on William's face as Robert stood up as well. He held a hand out, and with smug eyes, spoke. "I look forward to doing business with you, Romessa."

Romessa drew in a breath and placed her hand in his, struggling to speak without her voice cracking. "Yeah," she muttered, without an ounce of sincerity. "You, too."

Upon hastily leaving William's office—and shooting a cautionary look at his receptionist on the way out—Romessa was relieved to breath in fresh air, despite how cold it was. It was the first week of December now; Bella and Julian's wedding was scheduled to take place in two weeks, though because Italy was in a nationwide quarantine, their plans had been nearly ruined. Romessa let out an audible French profanity. "Merde!" Bella had asked her to search for new places to host the wedding, but she'd been so busy that she completely forgot to. The two had already had a lengthy discussion about Romessa's ability to commit to being the maid of honor—she was so busy that she hardly talked to her friends, and Bella was beginning to feel concerned about it. But Romessa assured her that everything was fine, and that she wanted more than anything to be the maid of honor, which was true. Way to prove it, thought Romessa, her stomach feeling heavy with disappointment towards her own self.