bound; governed by fate or extremely likely to occur.
"Face it, Marco. You and I are bound to one another. Even after all this time, even despite the consequences of our love, you can't keep yourself away from me-and neither can I."
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"I really loved you, Romessa."
"I find that very hard to believe." Romessa gazed at her expensive wristwatch, then her computer screen. Transaction Incomplete. "How much longer do you plan on doing this? You know I have places to be, William."
William Seifert was in an unfortunate position. Romessa was enjoying every moment of it. Currently, she was in the process of acquiring 3.3 million shares of the Bundesliga; a company worth 10 billion euros. 3.3 million shares represented 10% of the company's value, and when she walked out of William's office, she would be a billionaire.
She'd shown up with the intention of getting just his house, but seeing his face—and lack of remorse—had angered her. Maybe if he just tried to apologize for all the pain he'd caused her, she'd show him more mercy. But he didn't, and now, she was practically robbing him blind. She could do that, because William had no choice but to do what Romessa demanded of him. She'd easily hacked his security system and downloaded all the video footage she could find of him abusing her; thanks to Gianna, she'd already possessed evidence of his embezzlement. If William didn't do what Romessa told him to, he'd end up spending the next few years right along with Robert Lewandowski behind bars—the Pole had recently plead guilty to everything from rape to embezzlement to fraud, and if it meant ratting out William to receive a reduced sentence, he'd be sure to do so.
William shot Romessa a glare before pressing a button on his computer keyboard, nostrils flaring in anger. "If you think I'm letting you off this easy, Romessa, then you're wrong. I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you. Especially considering that Marco doesn't know the truth about the baby, does he?"
Romessa scoffed, then looked at her computer screen. Transaction Complete. She closed the computer after easily verifying that it wasn't any sort of gimmick, then shot William a nervous glare. "What are you talking about?"
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" William grinned, cynically. "People follow you everywhere you go, Romessa. There were five news articles about the fact that you went to that clinic. All it took me was googling the phone number and bribing the receptionist to find out what you were doing there, and what the test result was."
"Merde," muttered the Moroccan. "If you tell him," she hissed, "I'll take the house, too. And I'll make you resign. I'll leave you with nothing, William." She paused. "I will give you this much, though. That child was certainly yours, because it put me through hell. You can be proud your son for hurting me just as much as you did, but I'm just glad it's gone." That wasn't true. Romessa had lost two children now—the first being when she had to terminate the pregnancy caused by Marco when she was eighteen—and the toll it took on her self esteem was immense. Though she didn't want William's child, it was still her child, and to have lost it made her feel devastated; inadequate. But she wouldn't let him know that.
