Risk Contract: The CEO's Fake Wife

Chapter 7: The Law of Entropy

Stefano laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. He walked around the bar, closing the distance between them.

"You think you can analyze me, Ms. Scientist? You think you can dissect me like one of your rocks?"

"I think you're terrified," Livia challenged, lifting her chin. She refused to back down, even as he towered over her. "You built this perfect, ordered system—this contract, this apartment, this life. And now you realized that you can't control the variables. That's entropy, Stefano. Disorder is increasing. And you can't stop it."

Stefano stopped inches from her. He smelled of scotch and the lingering scent of the rain from outside. He looked at her mouth, then up to her eyes, fighting a visible war with himself.

"I can control anything I own," he whispered.

"You don't own me," Livia whispered back. "You rented my time. You didn't buy my reactions."

He reached out. For a second, she thought he would grab her shoulders. Instead, his hands went to her neck.

Livia gasped, freezing.

Stefano’s fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her nape, finding the clasp of the heavy sapphire necklace. His touch was hot, searing against her cool skin. He wasn't violent, but he wasn't gentle either. He was deliberate.

"This," he said, unclasping the heavy jewelry, "belongs to the company."

He pulled the necklace away, the cold metal sliding over her skin like water. He dropped it onto the side table without looking at it.

"And this," he reached for her ear, his thumb grazing her jawline as he unhooked the diamond earring, "is insured for three million dollars."

He removed the second earring. He was stripping her. Not of her clothes, but of the armor he had bought her. He was dismantling the "Mrs. Ferraz" persona, piece by diamond piece.

"The dress," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the cowl neck of the silk gown. "It's Rossi. It goes back to the vault tomorrow."

"Do you want me to take it off here?" Livia asked, her voice trembling. "Or should I go to my room and send it to you via courier?"

Stefano’s eyes flashed. He stepped closer, crowding her against the edge of the sofa.

"Clause 15," he recited, his voice rough. "No consummation."

"I know the clause, Stefano. I signed it."

"Then why," he growled, leaning down until his lips were a breath away from her ear, "are you looking at me like you want me to burn the contract?"

Livia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She could feel the heat radiating from him. It would be so easy. Just one inch. Just one movement, and the contract would be void. The entropy would win. The chaos would consume them.