THE MISTRESS CONTRACT

CHAPTER 6: THE SECRET

He kissed and held me like he meant it, but I could tell he was having a double face.

Ivy erupted into laughter. “Oh! Gina, isn’t it too early for this kind of joke?”

“I’m serious Ivy,” Gina murmured.

“So, you’re saying; a ghost bought all my paintings?”

“Literally, yes. No paper trail. No medical records. No bank records. No digital footprints. Even his company doesn’t exist,” Gina snapped.

Ivy breathes out deeply. “This doesn’t seem like a joke.”

“It’s not. Clearly, they don’t want him to be found, and that is because he is not just hiding. Someone somewhere deliberately scraped out his existence.”

“Okay, this could only mean they are trying to hide something,” Ivy mumbled.

“My point exactly,” Gina concurred. “But come to think of it, why did you ask me to look him up?”

“I just wanted to know everything about him, considering…” Ivy swallowed her remaining words.

“Considering what?”

“Nothing Gina,” she responded sadly.

Ivy wished she could tell Gina about her s****l contract with Mr. J. But she doesn’t know how to go about it because Gina would never approve of it.

“I have to go, so I can process all that you have said. Thank you and take care, Gina.”

Ivy ended the call before Gina could respond.

She lay on her bed pondering Gina’s words. What could he be hiding? Why doesn’t he want people to know things about him? Was that why he wore a mask around? Was he formerly a fugitive? No, she shook her head.

Suddenly, her face lit up and she smiled. “I know what to do.” But she was forgetting something.

Tonight was different. Ivy was in a costume. She was playing the role of a chef. Cladded in a chef's cap and a mini apron gown. Standing. Waiting. For the call of Mr. J.

Mr. J stood by the doorway. His eyes darkened with unleashed passion. His rod nudged bit by bit till it became fully erected.

The air was thick with tension, heavy with the scent of lavender.

But this time, Ivy was bolder, sharper with unanswered questions pressing against her lips.

He closed the distance between them and lowered his lips to her ears. His breath was warm on her skin. “What are mine having for dessert?”

Ivy’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with him, caressing his bare chest with her hand, stylishly ignoring his question.

She threw hers. “Why are you always in a mask? Who are you really?”

He remained calm, but there was something in the way he subtly tilted his head. Like he was trying to avoid her question. Deflecting.

“I’m not someone you should be looking for,” he said bluntly.

“But, why?”

Mr. J’s chest tightened. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, I call the shot here, not you. You seem to be forgetting something. I have rules governing this contract, and you just broke it,” he replied angrily.

Ivy squeezed her eyes and muffled, “f**k!” She totally forgot the rule.

“I-I-I’m sorry, please forgive me, Mr. J,” she pleaded.

He was about to leave, but she quickly grabbed his left wrist and bowed her head, “Please give me another chance. I am truly sorry, I won’t cross the line again.”

“I will let this sly but bear in mind that you have earned yourself a strike already and one more slip. The contract will be terminated,” he muttered, giving her a cold stare.

Ivy nodded. She felt frightened by the coldness of his eyes and words. She took a step backward.

Mr. J noticed it and released his breath in an attempt to calm his nerves.

He reached out, grabbing her wrist in a way that was both forceful and intimate; pulling her closer. She responded and leaned in on him more. The electricity between them sparked. He cupped her chin and closed her lips with his. The kiss was slow at first. He was savoring every one of her tastes with his tongue. But as the seconds stretched, the kiss deepened with a hint of urgency. She wanted to impress him, so her hands found their way to his rod. Mr. J groans in pleasure. Her fingers stroke his hard rod gently in a circular motion. She started slowly but then she increased the pace. She curled her fingers softly around his rod, worshiping him. She went on her knees and stuck out her tongue, nibbling at the tip of his rod.

Mr J moans out loud, “Put me in your mouth, my pretty bunny.”

She grabbed him, her eyes fixed on him, and put him in her mouth. “Aww! You taste so good.” She smiled seductively.

She licked and sucked him so hard with Ecstasy, her wild monster dripped with more juice.

Mr. J groans and gently swings her up with her back to his chest. He bent her over and thrust his rod into her wild monster. Ivy jerked and cried out in a low moan. “This is heavenly.”

He held her by her waist, thrusting deeper and faster, till he exploded. They clung on to each other, gasping for more breath as the night faded away.

Mr. J sat in his luxurious bedroom, with a troubled look on his face. He stood up and started pacing back and forth, sprawling his hair with his hand.

Instantly, he grabbed his car key and headed out.

He halted his car in front of Lockwood’s mansion where his father lives.

He headed to the study room, knowing fully well that’s where he was going to be.

“Father.” He barged in.

Damon Lockwood. A clean-shaven, stoic man in his mid-50s raised his head up from the book he was reading and slowly took off his glasses. “Did you forget your manners at home, boy?”

Mr. J shot him a hard stare. “I am tired of hiding. People are already asking questions.”

“And so f**k what?” he mumbled, a sneer riding his tone. “You’re supposed to stay in the shadows, you know what is at stake here.”

“I just came to warn you, that I won’t stay hidden forever. Can’t be living my life to fan your ego,” he murmured angrily and slammed the door behind him.

Damon sat unbothered and returned to reading his book like nothing had just happened.

Mr. J sat in his car, revved the engine, and rode off with speed. He was driving, but Ivy’s questions kept on playing in his head.

If I don’t reveal my identity myself and someone else does it for me. It would be chaotic for my reputation, and it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.

His eyes filled with fury. His hands were tighter on the steering wheel, and the speed of his car had increased to 80mph.

Because he was distracted, he missed the flashing yellow light ahead. He had lost track of his lane without knowing.

A horn blared angrily and tires screeched in protest. He was quick to snuck his head around in time to see the truck barreling towards him from the left—too fast, too close.

He grunted, stirring the wheel forcefully to the right, but it spun out of control. Before he realized it.

A loud deafening bang! Metal crunched. Glass shattered.

The car flipped in the air, once, twice, before it finally crash-landed onto its roof with a bone-rattling finality.

Silence. Smoke.