A CONTRACT MARRIAGE

Chapter 4- A CALL FROM FATE

The neon glow from the streetlights filtered through the thin curtains of Gwynne’s small hotel room. It wasn’t much — just a single bed, a wobbly table, and a window that overlooked the noisy city below.

A week had passed since she turned down Mr. Chase Cole’s job offer.

And in that week, life in the city had been far from kind.

Every morning, Gwynne left her room with a folder of résumés clutched tightly in her hands, her heart full of hope. And every evening, she returned exhausted, rejected, and questioning her choices.

“Sorry, we’re not hiring.”

“We’ll call you if there’s an opening.”

“Do you have prior experience?”

The same answers, the same polite smiles — and the same closed doors.

By the seventh day, her savings were running thin. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the cracked wallpaper, the weight of her situation pressing down on her.

Her gaze wandered to the small card lying on the bedside table — Mr. Chase’s calling card. It gleamed softly under the light, as if silently waiting for her to notice it.

She sighed, picking it up and tracing the golden letters with her thumb.

“Maybe…” she whispered, “maybe I should call him.”

For a moment, she hesitated. What if Damien was still angry? What if it was a trap?

But then she remembered Mr. Chase’s kind eyes and warm smile.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her phone and dialed the number written on the card.

The line rang once. Twice. Then a familiar, cheerful voice answered.

“Miss Sinclair!” Mr. Chase’s tone was filled with genuine delight. “I was just thinking about you. What a pleasant surprise!”

Gwynne smiled nervously, holding the phone close. “Good evening, Mr. Chase. I… I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nonsense,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I was expecting your call, actually.”

She blinked. “You were?”

“I had a feeling you’d call once the city showed you its rough edges,” he said kindly. “So, Miss Sinclair — have you changed your mind?”

Gwynne hesitated. “About the job?”

“Yes. My offer still stands,” Mr. Chase said, his tone warm but firm. “Become my grandson’s personal assistant. You’ll live with us, and in return, I’ll pay for your tuition — in full — until you graduate from college.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “You… you’d really do that?”

“Of course,” he said simply. “Consider it a thank-you for what you did that day — and a little push toward your future.”

Gwynne stared at the floor, her heart pounding. It was more than she could ever dream of. A safe place to stay. A steady job. A chance to finish her studies.

And yet… working for Damien Cole still made her stomach twist.

Still, she smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mr. Chase. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Mr. Chase exclaimed. “Meet me tomorrow morning. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I promise, this time there will be no misunderstandings.”

Gwynne couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I’ll hold you to that, sir.”

After ending the call, she placed her phone down and looked out the window. The city lights shimmered like tiny stars, reflecting in her tired eyes.

“Alright, Gwynne,” she whispered to herself. “You can do this.”

She lay back on the bed, clutching her pillow. A small smile curved her lips as she murmured under her breath, “I may be Damien Cole’s personal assistant… but I’m working for his grandfather, not him.”

Still, deep down, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervous anticipation.

Because something told her — working for Damien Cole was about to change her life in ways she could never imagine.

The next morning came faster than she expected.

Gwynne woke before sunrise, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. After a quick shower, she slipped into her neatest outfit — a pale blue blouse and a simple skirt — and tied her hair back into a low ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and whispered,

“Alright, Gwynne. It’s time.”

When she stepped out of her small hotel room, an expensive black car was already waiting by the curb. It gleamed under the morning light, far too luxurious for someone like her.

The driver, dressed in a formal suit, gave a polite bow. “Miss Sinclair? Mr. Chase sent me to pick you up.”

Gwynne nodded, clutching her small bag. “Thank you.”

Once inside, she couldn’t help but sink slightly into the soft leather seat. Everything smelled faintly of new leather and pine. Her fingers fidgeted nervously as the car began to move, the city slowly waking up outside her window.

Halfway through the drive, her phone began to ring. The screen lit up with a familiar name — Dad 💚.

Her chest warmed instantly. She answered with a smile. “Hi, Dad!”

“Gwynne!” Ashton Sinclair’s warm voice filled the car. “How are you, sweetheart? How’s the big city?”

Gwynne laughed softly, her voice gentle but confident. “I’m doing okay, Dad. The city’s… huge, and honestly, a little scary. But I’m getting used to it.”

Her father chuckled from the other end. “That’s my girl. So, did you find a job already?”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing out at the tall buildings racing by. “Yes… actually, I did. I’m on my way to meet someone right now. It’s a good opportunity, Dad. I think this could really help us.”

There was a long pause, then she heard the emotion in her father’s voice. “Your mother and I are so proud of you, Gwynne. You’ve always been strong, even when things get hard.”

Gwynne smiled, though her eyes stung slightly. “Tell Mom I love her, okay? I’ll call her tonight.”

“I will,” he said warmly. “Just remember, no matter where you go, we’re always with you.”

“I know, Dad. I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetheart.”

When the call ended, Gwynne sighed softly, placing her phone back in her bag. The warmth of her father’s words lingered in her heart, calming her nerves just a little.

But as the car continued its journey, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anxiety. What if Damien is still angry? What if he refuses to accept her?

She shook her head, trying to smile. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered to herself. “I’m working for Mr. Chase — not for him.”

After what felt like an hour, the car finally began to slow down. Gwynne leaned closer to the window, and her eyes widened in awe.

Beyond the tall, golden gates stood a mansion — no, a palace.

The Cole Estate looked like something straight out of a dream. Marble walls gleamed in the sunlight, fountains sparkled in the courtyard, and wide stone steps led up to an enormous double door framed with carved pillars.

Gwynne’s breath caught. “It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.

The car stopped, and the driver stepped out to open her door. “We’ve arrived, Miss Sinclair.”

Gwynne stepped onto the gravel, her eyes darting from the lush gardens to the high balconies above. She felt small — almost insignificant — compared to the grandeur around her.

Then her gaze froze.

Up on the second-floor balcony, a tall figure stood silently, watching her.

Even from a distance, she recognized him instantly. Damien Cole.

His dark hair moved slightly with the morning breeze, his suit sharp and flawless. But what caught her most were his eyes — cold, unreadable, and filled with restrained fury.

He wasn’t pleased to see her.

Gwynne swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. For a moment, neither of them moved. It felt like the world had gone silent — just her standing at the gate of his palace, and him above, glaring down like a storm she was about to walk into.

Her grip tightened on her bag. She straightened her posture and lifted her chin.

You can look at me however you want, Mr. Damien Cole, she thought silently. I’m not here for you. I’m here for your grandfather.

Still, as she followed the butler toward the grand entrance, she couldn’t shake the feeling that his sharp eyes were still on her — watching her every step, as if challenging her to survive whatever was coming next.