Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 7

The Breeder

B linking awake, I feel groggy and… I don’t know. Uneasy, I guess. I sit up and reach for the lamp on the bedside table, switching it on. Although I’m still alone, I feel like I’m being watched. It wouldn’t even surprise me if there are cameras in here so the psycho Santa can keep an eye on me.

Scoffing at the idea, I get out of bed, needing to stretch. The way my muscles creak and protest tells me I’ve been sleeping for longer than I should. After freshening up in the bathroom, I walk over to the large bedroom windows and pull the curtains back.

“Wow!” I whisper, completely awestruck at the view that greets me of Central Park, blanketed in fresh snow, glowing under the city lights.

The trees are dusted in white, shimmering like jewels against the night sky. Not only is the view breathtaking, it’s so… majestic. The snowy expanse of the park stretching out beneath me, making everything feel beautifully still and surreal. It’s like the whole city is wrapped in a winter spell, and I can’t look away.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I realize I’ve gotten what I wanted—at least partly. Assuming Santa isn’t going to let me go, then, for now, I live in a prestigious area, one I’ve lusted after for years.

Talk about getting your wish delivered in a twisted way.

I take one last look at the winter wonderland below before turning away from the darkness. I wish I knew how long I’ve been here, how long I’ve slept the first and second time. But without any clocks in sight, there’s no way to gauge the passing of time.

Sure, it’s dark outside, but that hardly tells me anything this time a year. When he made his outrageous proposal, it felt like we were talking for hours, but in reality, it might only be minutes.

A sad laugh bubbles up my throat, but I swallow it down. It doesn’t matter if it’s been days or weeks, because the only person who’ll miss me is Willow. And she’s… well, she’s not exactly able to throw herself into a rescue mission.

My thoughts stray to Willow as I look out of the window. I need my phone so I can text her, let her know I’m okay before she starts to worry. If it’s still the weekend, she’ll be busy with arts and crafts at the care home, so there’s a chance she hasn’t noticed my absence yet.

I whip around as the door opens, and the guy strides into the bedroom. He’s carrying a tray with a bowl of something that looks like pasta, and a bottle of water.

“Do you always sleep this much?” he asks, walking over to the vanity table where he places the food.

I just shrug before asking a question of my own. “What day is it?”

“Sunday,” he replies.

Shit. “I need to call my sister,” I rush out, my voice high with the growing panic I feel. “She’ll worry and I have to… please. I’m all she has.”

“I’ve texted your sister,” he says, gesturing at his food. “She’s fine.”

I pin him with my stare. “I said I need to speak with her,” I all but growl.

“Eat first,” he says, like that’s more important than Willow. “You can talk to your sister later. You must be starving.” The way he takes care of my needs is… daunting. I almost think I’d prefer if he were shouting and threatening me.

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I am.”

Since I believe his earlier words about not wanting to poison me, I accept the food and water without any objections.

While I eat, I pretend not to notice the way he’s studying me. But I can feel his eyes on me, burning into my skin. I hate the way my body reacts under his stare. I hope he can’t see the way my nipples tighten.

“Stop watching me,” I huff.

“No.” That’s it, that’s all he says.

Scoffing, I do my best to tune him out while I finish the huge plate of food. Once I’m done, I shuffle over to the bed and sit down at the edge. “Tell me more about this deal you mentioned,” I say, swirling my hand in the air in a ‘go-on’ motion.

He sits down in the same chair at the end of the bed he had sat in earlier. “Straight to business, huh?” His voice is dark and deliciously husky.

I nod. “Why not? It’s not like I have much of a choice.” Licking my lips, I let my eyes trail the length of his impressive body, the suit he’s wearing isn’t hiding how built he is.

When our eyes lock, he raises a brow, and I shrug. I don’t care if he’s seeing me checking him out. I’m caught in-between a rock and a hard place, so sue me for trying to find any redeeming qualities about this shit show that is my life.

“You want to breed me,” I remind him, like he could have forgotten what he said earlier. “Tell me what it is you want from me, exactly.”

“I want everything from you, Carolina,” he answers, and the simplicity of it terrifies me more than any threat could.

His words echo in my head, a heavy weight that threatens to crush me. And yet, beneath the fear and the fight, there’s something else—a flicker of curiosity about the man hiding beneath a bushy beard. But I push it down, lock it away.

“I’ll make it easy for you to choose,” he croons. “Your options are death or carrying my heir.”

Although I had already worked that out for myself, hearing it said out loud so casually is an entirely different matter. The room spins, and I fight to keep my composure. Death—a word that hangs over me, a shroud waiting to fall. My mind flashes to Willow, her smile, her laughter. She’s all I have left.

“Death?” My voice trembles despite my best efforts to sound defiant.

He leans closer, his head cocked as if examining prey. “Yes, that’s one option.” I can’t read his face, but his eyes—they glimmer with a predatory glee. What sick game is this? “Choose wisely, Carolina.” His voice drops to a whisper, a devil’s caress. “I’m not known for my patience.”

Unable to sit still any longer, I get off the bed and walk over to the fireplace. I know I shouldn’t turn my back on him, but… oh, who am I kidding? This man has all the power whether I’m facing him or not.

I need a minute to process all of this, and I can’t do that while looking at the fake bushy beard. Dread pools in my stomach. Death or a deal with the devil himself? My life, Willow’s future, it all hangs in the balance.

Knowing he has me beat, I sigh and turn back around to face him, squaring my shoulders. “Give me the details,” I demand, trying to mask the quiver in my voice with bravado. “What does giving you an heir entail?”

“Smart girl.” He straightens up, nodding approvingly. “Always best to know what you’re agreeing to. The devil is in the details, after all.”

No, the devil is here, in this room, looking at me like he’s contemplating all the ways he wants to use me.

I glare at him, my fear mingling with anger. The need to protect Willow gives me courage, or perhaps its reckless desperation. Whatever it is, I cling to it. “Just tell me already.” My eyes burn into his, searching for any hint of humanity, but finding none.

The tension coils tighter, a spring ready to snap. I’m trapped, bound by circumstance, my fate intertwined with a man hidden behind a festive disguise and sinister intentions. I have to make a choice. For survival. For Willow. For the glimpse of hope that still flickers, stubborn and persistent, within me.

He stands up and walks over to where I’m standing, and I catch the scent of pine and something darker, like a snow-covered forest hiding predators. The room is silent, save for the crackling fire and my ragged breaths. His next words are ice, chilling the air between us. “Ten million dollars to bear my child.” The sentence hangs heavy, a guillotine poised to sever my future from my past. “And you must conceive by Christmas.”

A cold sweat drenches my skin. Ten million dollars. The sum echoes through my mind like the chime of a cursed bell, each toll weighing down on my chest. I should be repulsed, terrified at the thought of carrying the child of a man who is synonymous with danger, whose very presence sends shivers crawling up my spine.

“Think about it, Carolina.” His voice slices through my spiraling thoughts, every syllable laced with power. “You wouldn’t have to poke holes in condoms anymore.”

My heart stammers at his knowledge, and I hate him for reminding me of my own desperation. He’s observed my darkest moments, seen through the facade of the sophisticated life I’ve pretended to lead. It’s as if he’s peeling back my layers, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

The money he offers is life changing, too much to decline on the principle of morals I don’t even have. Ten million dollars would secure both mine and Willow’s futures; it would be a sanctuary in a world where we have none.

It gnaws at me, this choice between swift damnation and cruel salvation.

“Is that even possible?” The question slips out before I can censor it, my mind grappling with logistics over morality.

There’s a gleam in his eyes, a predator sighting its prey. “It is,” he confirms.

“Christmas,” I whisper, the word a mingling of dread and wonder. It’s insane, impossible, and yet…

The room feels too small; the walls pressing in. My sister’s face dances before my eyes, her smile the beacon guiding me through this tempest. What am I willing to sacrifice for her? My body? My soul? It’s not even a question, I was already willing to become pregnant to ensnare a rich man. This way, I at least have a guarantee of money.

A tremble courses through me, a leaf caught in a storm, as I lift my gaze to meet his obscured one. “And what makes you think I’d agree to this madness?” My voice is a whisper of defiance, but my heart betrays me with its frantic beating.

“Because, Carolina,” he starts, his tone void of mockery. “You’re a survivor. You’ll do anything for your sister. And deep down, you know I’m your best option.”

He’s right, and the realization tastes bitter on my tongue, a pill too large to swallow. Yet, amid the fear and reluctance, a tiny spark ignites within me—the possibility of a future without the constant struggle, the endless worry.

I take a deep breath, watching him as he folds his arms across his chest. Though his eyes are cold, there’s a flicker of something hidden in the depths, something I’ve also heard hints of in his voice. “You need this,” I breathe, finally realizing the magnitude of the situation. “You’re trying to turn the tables on me, making it sound like I’m the only one who’s desperate.”

His eyes crinkle with amusement, but he doesn’t speak.

Feeling bolder, I lift my chin. “I have conditions of my own.”

His broad shoulders shake with unshed laughter. “I expected nothing less,” he chuckles darkly.

“I won’t be your prisoner,” I demand, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. “And you’ll pay all my expenses for December, including Willow’s care—”

He interrupts me with a scoff. “We can call you my guest if that makes you feel better. But you will live here with me, share my bed, and only do what I allow.” His tone makes it clear this isn’t up for discussion. “And, yes. I’ll pay for strangers to take care of the sister you’re too busy to look after yourself.”

My hands ball into fists, and I suck in a sharp breath of air. His assessment, though wrong, hurts. The truth is that I can’t take care of my sister by myself. I want to, so damn much. But the shitty studio I’m renting isn’t exactly disability friendly, not that I’ll tell him that. Let him think I’m a cold-hearted monster.

“I have work to do,” I say, inwardly cringing as I think about the money I’ve already lost out on.

“No, you don’t,” he says. When I open my mouth to argue, he presses his index finger against my lips. “I’ve deleted your Cam Girl site and shut down your account for good.”

“You what?” I screech, angered beyond belief. “You had no right to do that, and I need the money.”

He just shrugs. “No, you don’t. Take my offer and you’ll never want for anything again.”

My entire body shakes with anger, and, yeah, humiliation. I’m not proud of the way I’ve been making money. Though I’m not exactly embarrassed either. I’ve done what I could, what was needed. I refuse to feel bad about that.

The thing is, as great as his offer is, and no matter how amazing ten million sounds, it isn’t going to last me forever. Not in New York, and not with everything Willow needs. And what about taxes? And… I bet there are things I haven’t even thought about yet.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Santa observes, dryly. “If you say no, that’s it. There’ll be no second chance for you.”

Sighing, I consider if I should ask for more money, but before I can even come up with an amount to counter with, he speaks again.

“I’ll throw in an apartment. One for you and your sister. One where you never have to pay rent again.”

Well… shit. I can’t say no to that. “Wait, what happens if I don’t become pregnant before Christmas?” This is something I need to know before I can even consider it. If he’s just going to kill me anyway, that’s a lot of pressure to put on my poor womb.

“What do you mean?”

Meeting his gaze straight on, I roll my shoulders back, feigning confidence. “I still want to be paid, and I want your word I get to walk away from you. Alive.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyeing me curiously. “Deal. If you’re not pregnant by Christmas, I’ll pay you two million for your troubles, and you’ll be free to leave.”

Looking down at my bare feet, I pretend to ponder this. In reality, I’ve already agreed in my mind. But he doesn’t need to know he has me, so I bide my time while shifting my weight from one foot to another.

Although I’m acting calm, I’m anything but. My mind is racing, trying to come up with ways to escape. At the same time, I’m trying not to entertain those stupid thoughts. There’s no escaping this. It’s happening whether I want it or not.

Maybe I should… no. I need to accept this. “Okay,” I finally whisper, feeling as though I’m signing my life away. “I’ll do it.” I raise my head, looking into his dark eyes.

He nods. “Just so we’re clear, the deal is that I pay you ten million dollars to conceive and carry my heir. If you’re successful, I’ll pay for everything you need until one year after giving birth. At which time you’ll walk away with the full ten million. Obviously, you’ll never be permitted to see the child again. If you’re unsuccessful, I’ll pay you two million, give you a place to live, and you get to walk away, free to live your life free of me.”

“Okay,” I repeat.

“One more thing,” he says. “If you ever tell anyone about this deal or about me, your sister will pay the price. I’ll make her suffer in ways you can’t even imagine, Carolina. Is that clear?”

Tears gather in my eyes, making me blink furiously to stop them from falling. “Yes, I understand,” I croak around the ball of emotions in my throat.

My heart beats a staccato rhythm, matching the seconds slipping away. I’m hyper-aware of him as he stands before me, a menacing Santa in this perverse holiday tale.

“In that case,” he rasps. “Time to unveil the man behind the myth.” His fingers hook beneath the white beard as he takes a step back, putting more distance between us.

The fabric peels away from his skin with a whisper, and I find myself holding my breath. The hat follows, a slow reveal that feels like unwrapping the most twisted of Christmas presents. And then, there he is—a real life Adonis if I ever saw one. I can’t help but gape. His features are sharp, carved from stone by a skilled sculptor. There’s a ruggedness to him that no amount of civilization could tame.

“Do you know who I am?” His voice is thick with amusement, eyes glinting with something unrecognizable.

Shaking my head, I continue to study him; a scar slashes across his face—a jagged line that starts at the bridge of his nose and carves a path down his cheek. It’s a flaw that enhances rather than detracts, adding to the dangerous allure of the man who now owns me.

“No. Should I?” I ask, swallowing harshly as I answer his question with one of my own. My eyes trace the contours of his face, the ink-black hair, the predatory gaze. He’s not just handsome; he’s devastating. Which is fitting since he holds the power to ruin me, wipe me from the face of the earth without anyone but my sister and uncaring mom even knowing I ever existed.

His smirk tells me he enjoys my discomfort. But there’s also an intensity in his gaze that holds me captive, even without the restraints. It’s as if he’s searching for something within me, some sign of acquiescence or maybe something else.

“It wouldn’t be good for you if you did.” His approval sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. “But you can call me Nicklas.”

“Nicklas.” I taste his name on my tongue, paying close attention to the way the organ rolls to speak it. Then an unbidden giggle slips out as I eye the discarded costume. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Nicklas… Nick… Saint Nick… Santa.”

The glint in his eyes is a mixture of dark amusement and a predator. “Ho, ho, fucking ho,” he deadpans, flashing me a smile that’s all teeth.

This is it—the turning point of my life. I’ve struck a deal with the devil himself. Ten million dollars. One child. A future secured for me and Willow. Questions whirl through my mind. Can I really go through with this? What does it make me? Am I a victim or a willing participant? The answers elude me, lost in the depth of Nicklas’ dark eyes.

“Come over here,” he commands huskily, holding his hand out to me.

Before I can fully process his words, my body obeys, moving closer to him. As soon as I take his hand, he pulls me flush against him. “Wait,” I squeak, surprised by his nearness. Nicklas’ body is as hard as mine is soft, and he smells incredible. Without meaning to, I sag against him.

“Look at me.” I tilt my head back and look up at him. “Normally, I seal business deals with a handshake. But I think a kiss is more fitting for our arrangement.”

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can utter a word, he bends and fuses his lips to mine in a hard kiss that leaves me breathless. Our lips move together, and when his tongue licks along the seams of my lips, I immediately open up to him, unable to resist.

As he kisses me like he’s trying to possess me, I mewl into his mouth. I slide my hands up his strong arms, winding them around his neck. Every part of me is pressed against him, and it feels… amazing.