A CONTRACT MARRIAGE

Chapter 5-Cole's Mansion

-DAMIEN'S SIDE-

Damien Cole stood silently on the balcony, the morning breeze brushing against his face as his sharp eyes followed the car that just entered the gate. He wasn’t expecting her — that girl — to actually accept his grandfather’s offer.

When Gwynne stepped out of the car, looking around with awe at the mansion, something inside him twisted in irritation. So she really came.

His jaw tightened as he watched her. She was supposed to be just another stranger, another person trying to please his grandfather for advantage. But when her gaze met his, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look impressed or intimidated — she simply looked past him, as if he were nothing but another wall of the mansion.

That tiny act stung his pride more than he cared to admit.

“So she’s here for my grandfather,” he murmured under his breath, eyes narrowing, “but she doesn’t see me as her future boss?”

He gave a cold, humorless chuckle and turned away from the balcony.

“Fine. Let’s see how long you can last in this house, Miss Sinclair.”

Damien descended the stairs with slow, measured steps, his expression perfectly composed. But inside, irritation churned like a quiet storm. He still couldn’t believe his grandfather had gone through with it — hiring her of all people.

The moment his gaze landed on Gwynne, standing in the middle of the grand hall, he almost laughed in disbelief. She looked so out of place — small against the vast marble and gold of the mansion, her simple clothes contrasting sharply with the luxury around her.

What does Grandfather even see in this girl? he thought, watching her wide eyes take in every corner of the room.

Then, unexpectedly, her gaze met his. For a second, she looked startled — then her expression changed. Calm. Composed. As if he were just another piece of furniture.

The corner of his mouth twitched. No one ever dared look at him that way.

“Ah, Damien,” his grandfather’s cheerful tone broke the silence. “You already know Miss Sinclair. She’s officially joining us as your personal assistant starting today.”

Of course she is.

“Yes, Grandfather,” Damien said evenly, his voice cool and distant. “I’m aware.”

Gwynne smiled politely and bowed slightly. “Good morning, Mr. Cole.”

Damien’s reply was little more than a nod — curt and indifferent. Her steady tone caught him off guard, but he quickly brushed it off.

“Now, now, Damien,” Mr. Chase chuckled, clearly amused by his grandson’s coldness. “Don’t scare the poor girl. She’s here to help you, not to fight with you.”

“Help me?” Damien murmured under his breath. “We’ll see about that.”

He turned away and called one of the servants. “Show Miss Sinclair to her room. Then bring her to my office.”

“Yes, sir,” a woman in uniform answered softly. She turned to Gwynne with a kind smile. “This way, Miss Sinclair. I’m Elizabeth, one of the house staff. I’ll help you settle in.”

As Damien walked down the hall, he glanced back once — just in time to see Gwynne following Elizabeth up the grand staircase, clutching her small bag close to her chest. She looked so small in this enormous house, yet there was something in her stride — quiet determination.

He faced forward again, his expression hardening.

His grandfather might think this girl could change something in him.

But Damien Cole didn’t need changing.

Still… a part of him couldn’t forget that look she gave him — unafraid, unbothered, almost challenging.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s see how long you’ll last, Miss Sinclair.”

-GWYNNE'S SIDE-

Gwynne followed the woman named Elizabeth up the grand staircase, her small bag held tightly in her hands. Her heart was still racing from the moment she’d met Damien Cole again — that cold stare of his lingered in her mind like a shadow.

Elizabeth gave her a kind smile as they walked through the long hallway, the walls lined with paintings and crystal lamps. “Don’t let Mr. Damien scare you,” she said softly, as if she had read Gwynne’s thoughts. “He’s not as bad as he looks. Just… reserved.”

Gwynne gave a nervous laugh. “Reserved? That’s a polite way to put it.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. He doesn’t talk much, but Mr. Chase is a good man. Everyone here respects him.”

They stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway. Elizabeth opened it gently, revealing a beautifully furnished guest room — soft cream walls, elegant furniture, and a window that overlooked the garden.

“This will be your room, Miss Sinclair,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “If you need anything, just press that button by the door. Dinner is usually served at seven, and Mr. Chase prefers breakfast with the household staff every morning.”

Gwynne stepped inside, still in awe. “It’s beautiful… much more than I expected.”

“You deserve it,” Elizabeth said kindly. “Mr. Chase trusts you, and that means a lot around here.”

Gwynne placed her bag on the bed and took a deep breath. For the first time since arriving, she allowed herself to smile. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

But just as she turned toward the window, a soft knock echoed through the room.

Elizabeth opened the door slightly, her tone respectful. “Miss Sinclair, Mr. Damien is ready to see you now.”

Gwynne froze.

The warmth she felt moments ago vanished in an instant, replaced by a familiar nervous flutter in her chest. She smoothed her clothes, inhaled deeply, and gave Elizabeth a faint, shaky smile.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Let’s get this over with.”

The sound of her footsteps echoed softly along the long hallway as Gwynne followed Elizabeth to Damien’s office. Each step made her heart beat faster, but she kept her chin high. She had already faced worse things than a rude man with too much pride.

Elizabeth stopped in front of a tall wooden door and gave her an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Sinclair. Just be yourself.”

Gwynne nodded, trying to calm her racing heart. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

When the door opened, the room’s cold air seemed to greet her first. The office was vast — floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a glass wall overlooking the city, and a grand desk where Damien Cole sat like a king in his own world. He didn’t look up right away; he was flipping through documents, his face emotionless.

“Miss Sinclair,” he said at last, his voice deep and sharp. “Close the door.”

She did as told, standing before his desk.

Without glancing at her, he continued, “I’m not in the habit of working with people my grandfather picks for me. But since he seems to believe you can be useful, we’ll test that theory.”

Gwynne blinked, her patience already thinning. “Useful?” she repeated. “Mr. Cole, I’m here to work, not to prove I exist.”

That made him finally look up — his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You seem bold for someone who was nearly thrown out of this house once.”

She met his stare steadily. “And yet, I’m still here,” she said softly, but with firmness. “Maybe your grandfather saw something you didn’t.”

A long silence followed. Damien’s gaze lingered on her — assessing, calculating. He leaned back in his chair, lips curving faintly into a half-smirk. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Gwynne straightened her posture. “Should I be?”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes — surprise, maybe even amusement — but it vanished just as quickly.

“No,” he said quietly, turning back to his papers. “Fear isn’t necessary. Just obedience.”

Gwynne’s voice came out steady, though her pulse was racing. “I’m not here to be anyone’s puppet, Mr. Cole. I’ll do my job — but I won’t let you treat me like I don’t deserve to be here.”

His hand froze mid-turn of a page. Slowly, Damien looked at her again — really looked this time.

Most people bowed their heads or stuttered under his tone. But this woman? She stood her ground, her eyes bright with quiet defiance.

Interesting.

“Fine,” he said finally. “Let’s see if your attitude matches your work.”

“Gladly,” she replied, refusing to look away.

As Gwynne left the office, her heart was pounding, but a tiny smile tugged at her lips. He could glare all he wanted — she wouldn’t back down. Not to Damien Cole. Not to anyone.