Chapter 2 The Contract

Adrian didn't kiss me.

He didn't even touch me.

He just folded the signed contract back into his jacket, straightened his tie - which was still undone, by the way - and said, "Come on. We have a lot to do before noon."

Then he walked off the terrace like we'd just closed a business deal.

Which, I supposed, we had.

I stood there for a second, the pen still warm in my hand, wondering what the hell I'd just done.

Twenty million dollars.

Mom's medical debt - gone.

One year.

I followed him.

---

The gala was still roaring inside. Champagne, laughter, the low hum of powerful people pretending to like each other. Adrian cut through the crowd like a shark, and people parted for him the same way they parted for Damian - with a mixture of respect and fear.

Only difference was, Adrian smiled while he did it.

"Where are we going?" I whispered, hurrying to keep up.

"My car."

"Now?"

"No time like the present." He glanced back at me. "Unless you'd like to stay and watch my brother announce his engagement to Victoria Hale. I'm sure that would be a lovely experience."

My jaw tightened.

"No," I said. "Let's go."

His smile widened.

---

The car was black. Of course it was. A sleek, silent thing that smelled like leather and money, driven by a man in a suit who didn't look at me twice.

Adrian opened the door for me. I climbed in.

He slid in beside me.

And then we were moving.

I stared out the window, watching the Ashford mansion shrink in the distance, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that I was in a stranger's car, wearing a dress I couldn't afford, with a signed contract in his pocket that promised me a life I'd never imagined.

"You're quiet," Adrian said.

"I'm processing."

"Fair." He stretched his legs out. "Ask me anything. I'll answer."

I turned to look at him.

In the dim light of the car, he looked even more like Damian - and somehow nothing like him at all. Where Damian's face was all hard lines and cold angles, Adrian's had a looseness to it. A warmth that felt almost like a trap.

"Why me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I told you. Damian takes everything he wants. For once, I wanted to take something first."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the truth."

"It's half the truth."

He laughed. Low. Genuine. "You're sharper than he gave you credit for."

"I'm sharper than you gave me credit for."

"Fair point." He turned to face me fully. "Alright. You want the real answer?"

"Yes."

"I've been watching you for six months."

My heart stuttered. "What?"

"Not in a creepy way." He held up a hand. "In a professional way. You designed the east wing of my brother's penthouse. I saw the plans. Then I saw the finished product. You're brilliant." He paused. "And then I saw the way you looked at him."

I looked away.

"Everyone looks at Damian like that," Adrian continued. "He's the heir. The golden boy. The one our father actually wanted." His voice was light, but there was something underneath it. Something sharp. "But you looked at him like he was worth something. Like he was more than just a name and a trust fund."

"And that bothered you?"

"No." He leaned closer. "It interested me. Because I've spent my whole life watching people fall over themselves for my brother, and not one of them ever stopped to ask if he deserved it."

I didn't answer.

"So when I saw you standing on that terrace tonight, about to throw yourself at his feet - I decided to make you an offer instead."

"To use me."

"To partner with me." He leaned back. "There's a difference."

"Is there?"

He smiled. "You'll see."

---

The penthouse was in the city. Of course it was. A glass-and-steel tower that rose above the skyline like it was trying to touch the stars.

Adrian led me through the lobby, past a doorman who didn't blink, into a private elevator that required a keycard and a fingerprint scan.

"Fancy," I murmured.

"I like nice things."

The elevator opened onto a sprawling open-concept space - floor-to-ceiling windows, dark wood floors, a kitchen that looked like it had never been used.

"This is yours for the next year," he said.

I stepped inside.

The city stretched out below me, a sea of light. I could see the Ashford mansion from here, tiny and distant.

"You'll have your own room," Adrian said, gesturing down a hallway. "Down there. Lock on the door. I'm not a monster."

"Why not?" I asked. "You're a stranger who just bought me."

He paused.

For a second, the smirk disappeared.

"Because I know what it's like to be used," he said quietly. "And I'm not going to do that to you."

I didn't know what to say.

So I said nothing.

He nodded once, then turned toward the kitchen. "You should eat something. You look like you haven't eaten since Tuesday."

"I haven't."

"Thought so." He opened the fridge. "Sit. I'll make you something."

I sat on one of the barstools, watching him move around the kitchen like he actually knew what he was doing. It was surreal. Ten minutes ago, I was crying on a terrace. Now I was watching a billionaire make me a sandwich.

"You're not what I expected," I said.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know." I shook my head. "Someone colder. Someone more like him."

Adrian's hands stilled.

Then he looked up.

"I'm nothing like him," he said. "That's the problem."

---

I ate the sandwich. I slept in a bed that cost more than my apartment. I woke up to the sound of the city and the smell of coffee.

And then I remembered.

Damian is announcing his engagement today.

I sat up fast.

On the nightstand, there was a note in neat handwriting.

Breakfast is on the counter. Wear the dress in the closet. Be ready by eleven. - A

I looked at the closet.

It was full.

Dresses. Shoes. Jewelry. All in my size.

My stomach turned.

He'd been planning this longer than he'd admitted.

---

By eleven, I was dressed.

The gown was deep emerald - elegant, tasteful, expensive. It hugged my body like it had been made for me. Because it probably had been.

Adrian was waiting by the door.

He looked me over slowly.

Once.

Then he nodded.

"Perfect."

"Where are we going?"

He smiled.

"To crash a press conference."

---

The Ashford mansion was chaos.

Cars lined the drive. Press vans. Security guards. A red carpet leading up to the front doors.

Damian was inside, about to announce his engagement to Victoria Hale.

And Adrian was about to walk in with me.

"Wait," I whispered, as we approached the entrance. "What if this doesn't work?"

"It will."

"What if he-"

"Sienna." Adrian stopped. Turned to me. Took my hands. "Look at me."

I looked up.

"When I walk through those doors with you on my arm," he said quietly, "Damian is going to see something he's never seen before. He's going to see someone choosing me. Not him. Me." His eyes burned. "And it's going to destroy him."

I swallowed.

"And that's what you want?"

He leaned closer.

"That's what I need."

Then he took my arm.

And we walked in.

---

The doors swung open.

The room went silent.

I felt every pair of eyes in the room turn toward us. Heard the sharp inhale of shock. Saw the cameras start flashing.

At the podium, Damian was mid-sentence.

"...and I'm proud to announce my engagement to-"

He stopped.

His eyes found mine.

Then dropped to my hand - tucked in Adrian's arm.

Then to the ring on my finger.

For the first time in two years, I saw something other than contempt in Damian Ashford's eyes.

I saw shock.

I saw fury.

I saw something else.

Something that looked almost like pain.

"Apologies for the interruption," Adrian said smoothly. "But I have an announcement of my own."

He raised our joined hands.

"May I introduce my wife - Sienna Ashford."

The room exploded.

Cameras flashed. Reporters shouted. Victoria Hale dropped her glass.

And Damian Ashford stood at the podium, frozen, staring at me like I was a ghost.

I held his gaze.

And for the first time since I met him - I didn't feel small.

---