the contract marriage

CHAPTER 3

Aiden

I arrive at Starlight Talent at 6 PM. Emily is already waiting outside, her expression perplexed as I open the door.

As we step inside, I flick on the lights and notice her intentionally avoiding eye contact. Lately, she’s been acting strangely—showing up late and smelling like beer.

I’ve known her for three years, and this behavior is unusual. The elevator ride feels tense, so I break the silence. “Did you sleep well?”

She looks up, and I catch sight of bloodshot eyes shadowed by dark circles.

I can’t help but ask, “Emily, what’s going on? Are you in trouble? Do you need help?”

It’s a dumb question, but she doesn’t seem like the trouble-making type. Still, there’s always a first time.

She shakes her head, brown curls falling into her face. “No, I’m just having trouble sleeping.”

She bites her bottom lip, and I see her eye twitch—a telltale sign she’s lying. I know her well enough to recognize the signs.

Pushing the elevator’s stop button, I step closer, boxing her into the corner. She takes a shaky breath, avoiding my gaze. I feel irritated that she won’t meet my eyes.

I gently grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I can’t help you, Em, if you don’t tell me. Why do you smell like alcohol?”

She sighs, shoulders slumping. “Someone spilled beer on me when I was on the train.”

I keep my eyes locked on her face, searching for any sign of deception. “Why have you been having trouble sleeping?”

Her irritation flares. “Sir, I came to work. Why does it matter?”

She’s right, but her words grind my patience. Through clenched teeth, I retort, “It matters because it’s affecting your work.”

Arms folded, she glares at me. “You know my work isn’t affected. Can you please just push start instead of interrogating me? I need to use the bathroom.”

We have a standoff, glaring at each other until I relent and press start. She’s right; as long as she does her job, it isn’t my business. I won’t ask again.

When the doors open, I storm toward my office, snapping over my shoulder, “Buy some new clothes. You can’t smell like that if you’re using my bathroom and shower.”

I don’t wait for a response as I slam the door behind me. I take off my suit jacket, roll up my sleeves, and settle in. I have calls to make.

Kelly wants the lead role in a new movie called Trapped, where a woman gets kidnapped by a stalker but eventually escapes. That’s all I know, but I believe she’ll nail the audition.

I need to inform Lucy about her shoot and confirm if it’s what she wants. For the next two hours, Emily will take calls and send them to me while I call Lucy and answer emails.

Eventually, Emily appears in my office, likely following my shower suggestion. I have a bathroom here because I can’t always go home to change.

I act like an asshole. “I didn’t ask for you. What do you want?”

She steps further inside, her tone softening. “First, I want to apologize for how I spoke to you. I know you’re trying to help, but honestly, I don’t need it. I appreciate your concern. Second, I got some clothes like you suggested, and I’d really like to take that shower if the offer still stands.”

Surprised, I look up. She apologized. I do the same, “Sorry for prying into your personal life.” I glance back at my laptop. “You know where it is. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Mr. Davis,” she replies softly.

I don’t look up as she shuts the door. A couple of minutes later, the shower kicks on, and an unprofessional thought of Emily pops into my mind—her naked body in my shower, hands lathering her creamy skin with my body wash.

My pants tighten. I’ve never thought of her like this before. Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind of the inappropriate image.

What the hell is wrong with me today? Just as I’m about to leave my office, the phone rings. Grateful for the distraction, I answer, “Hello?”

“Mr. Davis, it’s security. We have your brother here. Should I send him up?”

The only brother they could be talking about is Emmet, who has fallen into bad habits since our father died—drinking and drugs. Every two weeks, he shows up asking for money. “Yeah, send him up.”

“Right away, sir.”

Once the call ends, I let out a long sigh, hoping Emily finishes before Emmet arrives. He’s become a shadow of himself, and I’ll protect her at all costs. He won’t dare touch her while I’m here, but I still don’t trust him.

I close my laptop and lean forward, waiting for Emmet to walk in.

He looks like a mess in a black cotton top and gray sweats. He doesn’t care anymore; all that matters to him are his habits.

As he sits down, I stare him down, waiting for him to speak. “How are you, brother?”

I raise a brow. He’s asking how I am? I’m not in the mood to pretend he cares. “Let’s get to the point. Why are you here, Emmet? I’m busy.”

He glances around my office, scratching his arm. “Where’s your lovely assistant?”

My blood boils at the mention of Emily. Three years of loyalty earn her my friendship.

I stand, leaning over him. “This is the only warning I’m giving you. Stay away from my assistant. Any attempt to look or touch her, and I’ll f**k you up. Do I make myself clear?”

He gulps, hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It was just a question.”

Just a question? My ass. I take a deep breath and step away, moving toward the window to watch the downtown traffic from the top floor. The cars look small, just like the people walking below.

I place my hand on the glass. “How much do you need, Emmet?”

I see his reflection shift in the glass. “I won’t ask after this. It’s just until next week.”

Annoyed, I clench my teeth. “How much?”

He clears his throat. “Five thousand.”

Keeping my expression blank, I turn toward him, pull my checkbook from the drawer, and write out the amount. Sliding it across the desk, I hold it down with my finger. “This is the last time I’m giving you money, Emmet. Now, I want you to do something. You can either do it or not; that’s your choice. I can’t force you.”

He looks from the check to me. “What?”

Leaning forward, I keep my finger on the paper. “Go to rehab. Get yourself clean, Emmet. This has gone on too long. I don’t want to see you dead.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t need to. I’m fine. This isn’t for booze—just a few debts to pay off.”

I don’t believe him, but I can’t force him. Unless he seeks help, there’s nothing more I can do.

As I release the check, the bathroom door opens, and Emily emerges, looking much improved.

Emmet gives me a knowing look. “No wonder you’re so protective of her.”

With clenched teeth, I mutter, “You got what you wanted. Now go.”

He tilts his head and smirks. “Does HR know you’re screwing your assistant? It makes sense why you’ve kept her and not all the others.”

I cut him off. “Leave, Emmet, before I make you.”

I want to throttle him and watch his face turn blue as he struggles to breathe.

He laughs as he stands. “Be careful, Aidey. Someone might report this, and she could lose her job while you get written up for s****l harassment.”

My hands ball into fists as I bite my tongue, struggling to remain still. I’ve never had s*x with Emily, and I won’t start now. He walks out, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Emily still stands in the doorway, hair pinned back, makeup gone. She looks stunning.

I get irritated with myself and bark, “What are you still doing here? Get back to your tasks, Miss Anderson.”

She jumps and rushes out, eyes wide. I shake my head and take a seat, thanks to my brother. Now I’m in a foul mood.