CHAPTER 3: Signing Away My Soul
1568 Words
Elisa's POV
The contract was already on Leonard's desk when I arrived at his penthouse office. Twenty floors above downtown, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, furniture that probably cost more than my father's house. Everything about this place screamed power and big money.
Leonard sat behind his desk in a charcoal suit, looking every bit the ruthless alpha businessman he was rumored to be. Another man stood beside him, younger, maybe late twenties, with sandy hair and sharp blue eyes. He watched me with an expression that made my skin prickle. Pity mixed with something hungry.
"This is Kieran," Leonard said. "My lawyer. He will witness the contract."
I walked forward on shaking legs. I had not slept last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Williams in bed with Lena, felt the bond snapping, and I heard my father gasping for air on the floor.
I picked up the contract. It was thick, full of legal language I barely understood.
"Should I read all of this?" I asked.
"If you want," Leonard said. "But I will explain the terms now if you prefer."
I set it down. "Explain."
"You will live in my territory. In a private apartment I own. You will attend pack functions with me as my contracted mate. You will present yourself to the outside world as mine." He paused, his gray eyes never leaving my face. "There will be no mating mark unless you give explicit consent. This is a business arrangement, not a claiming."
"For one year," I said.
"For one year," he confirmed. "After that, you are free to leave. The debt will remain paid. Your father will keep his job in my pack. You will keep any financial support I have provided."
It sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch.
"What about my school?" I asked.
Leonard pulled out his phone and showed me an email. "Already reinstated. Full tuition paid for the remainder of your program. You start back on Monday."
"How did you do that?"
"I made a donation." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "A large one."
Of course, he had. Money solved everything for people like him.
Kieran cleared his throat. "If you are ready to sign, Miss Monroe."
I looked at the contract one more time. My hand hovered over the pen. This was it. Once I signed, I belonged to Leonard Crane for a full year. I would be his in every way that mattered, except for the one way that might have made it bearable. No mating mark meant no real bond. Just a transaction.
I picked up the pen and signed my name.
Kieran witnessed it, his signature neat and precise next to mine. When he looked at me again, the pity in his eyes had deepened.
"Congratulations," he said quietly.
It did not feel like something worth celebrating.
Leonard took the contract and filed it away in his desk. "Your father is recovering well. The healer says he will be released tomorrow. I have arranged for him to stay in pack housing until he is fully healed."
"Can I see him?" I asked.
"Of course. Kieran will take you this afternoon." Leonard stood up, buttoning his jacket. "But first, we need to discuss your living arrangements and your schedule."
A knock on the door interrupted him.
"Come in," Leonard said, irritation flickering across his face.
The door opened and another man walked in. He was younger than Leonard, probably early thirties, with dark curly hair and warm brown eyes. He wore a leather jacket over an expensive shirt, the kind of effortless style that suggested old money trying to look casual.
"Leonard, sorry I am late." He stopped short when he saw me. "Oh. I did not realize you had company."
"Dante." Leonard's voice had gone cold. "This is Elisa. My contracted mate."
Dante's eyebrows shot up. He looked between Leonard and me, clearly trying to process this information. "Your contracted mate. Since when?"
"Since this morning," Leonard said. "Elisa, this is Dante Morelli. He owns several art galleries downtown."
My heart skipped. I knew that name. Dante Morelli was famous in the art world, known for discovering new talent and launching careers.
"Art galleries," I repeated.
Dante smiled at me, and it was a genuine smile, warm and interested. "You are an artist?"
"I am a student," I said. "At the Institute."
"The Institute has an excellent program." He walked closer, and I caught his scent. Alpha, but different from Leonard. Lighter. Less oppressive. "What is your focus?"
"Contemporary mixed media. I work with found objects mostly."
"Interesting." Dante pulled out his phone. "I am always looking for new artists. My main gallery is hosting a group show in six months. I would love to see your portfolio."
"She will send it to you," Leonard said before I could respond. His voice had taken on an edge that made the air in the room feel heavier.
Dante glanced at Leonard, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Will she? Or would she prefer to speak for herself?"
The tension between the two alphas was thick enough to choke on. Kieran had gone very still beside the desk, watching them like he was waiting for a fight to break out.
"I would love to send you my portfolio," I said quickly. "Thank you."
"Excellent." Dante handed me a business card. It was warm from being in his pocket. "My personal number is on there. Call me anytime. If you need anything at all, I am happy to help."
The way he said it made it clear he was not just talking about art.
Leonard moved then, so fast I barely saw him. One moment he was behind his desk, the next he was beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand wrapped around my wrist, not painfully, but firm enough to make a point.
"She will not need anything," Leonard said. His voice was soft, deadly. "She has me."
Dante's smile widened. "Of course. Congratulations on the contract mating, by the way. Very sudden."
"Our business meeting is over," Leonard said.
"I just got here."
"And now you are leaving." Leonard's eyes flashed gold for just a second. Not fully shifted, but enough to show his wolf was close to the surface. "Get out, Dante."
Dante held up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. I will call to reschedule." He looked at me one more time. "It was lovely to meet you, Elisa. I look forward to seeing your work."
He left, closing the door behind him. Kieran made some excuse about needing to file the contract and disappeared as well. Then I was alone with Leonard.
He had not let go of my wrist.
"You will not see him alone," Leonard said. His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the growl underneath it. "Do you understand?"
"He offered me a gallery show," I said. "That is a huge opportunity."
"I don't care. You will not see him alone." His grip on my wrist tightened slightly. "You are mine now, Elisa. Even if only on paper. That means something."
My wolf stirred again, responding to the possessiveness in his tone. It should have made me angry. It should have made me want to pull away. Instead, my broken wolf was leaning into it, craving the strength and dominance that Leonard radiated.
"Let go of me," I said quietly.
He released me immediately, stepping back like my skin had burned him. The gold faded from his eyes, replaced by cold gray again.
"Your apartment is ready." He pulled a key from his desk drawer and held it out to me. "Fifteenth floor. You have your own entrance, your own space. I will not disturb you unless necessary."
I took the key. It was heavier than it should have been, weighted with everything it represented.
"Thank you," I said, because I did not know what else to say.
Leonard nodded. "Kieran will take you to see your father now. I will have your things moved from your old residence tomorrow."
He was dismissing me. I should have been relieved. Instead, I felt strangely abandoned as I walked out of his office.
The apartment was beautiful. Hardwood floors, modern furniture, and a kitchen I would probably never use. Everything was pristine and cold and perfect.
I walked through it in a daze, trying to imagine living here. Trying to imagine belonging to Leonard Crane for a full year.
I heard a sound from the bedroom. A sniffle. Someone crying.
My wolf went on alert. I walked slowly toward the bedroom door and pushed it open.
Lena sat on the edge of the bed, mascara running down her face, her hands twisted in her lap.
"Elisa," she gasped. "Please, you have to help me."
"How did you get in here?" I demanded.
"I followed you. I had to talk to you." Lena stood up, reaching for me. "Williams, he is not who you think. I made a terrible mistake and now he is threatening to—"
She stopped. Her eyes went wide, fixed on something behind me.
I turned and saw Leonard standing in the doorway. His expression was murderous. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Territory."
- Writer
