The CEO’s Contractual Heart

Chapter 8: The Morning Interrogation

Morning sunlight filtered through the heavy velvet drapes of Chloe's guest room, casting long, sharp bars of golden light across the intricate Persian rug. But the peaceful, quiet ambiance of the morning was shattered the moment a sharp, authoritative knock rapped against her heavy oak door.

Chloe groaned, pulling a thick silk pillow over her head and burying her face in the mattress, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could pretend she had simply vanished into thin air overnight. The knock came again, louder and harder this time, completely unapologetic in its interruption.

"Miss Hayes," a crisp, unfamiliar voice called out from the hallway, dripping with formal stiffness. "Mr. Vance requests your presence in the solarium for breakfast immediately. Do not keep him waiting."

Groaning audibly, Chloe threw off the heavy covers and stumbled out of bed. She hurried to get dressed, opting for a sharp, cream-colored blazer and tailored trousers that screamed professional competence and unbreakable armor. She wasn't going to let the Vance family catch her looking disheveled, vulnerable, or unprepared on day two of this ridiculous charade.

When she finally pulled open her door and stepped out into the quiet corridor, she found Mason waiting for her at the top of the grand staircase. He was already fully dressed in a sharply tailored charcoal-gray suit, looking entirely composed and unfazed, as if he hadn't spent the previous night keeping her awake with his lingering, electric presence just across the hall.

"Sleep well, Miss Hayes?" Mason asked, a subtle, knowing smirk playing at the corner of his chiseled mouth as she approached him.

"Like someone who is eagerly waiting for a ticking time bomb to go off in her face," Chloe shot back, sharply adjusting her cuffs and leveling a glare at him. "What on earth does your grandfather want now? Did one of your overly observant cousins already find a microscopic flaw in our engagement timeline?"

"Worse," Mason murmured, offering his arm for her to link through with practiced, public-facing grace. "He wants to discuss the wedding arrangements."

Chloe froze dead in her tracks, her hand hovering just inches from his tailored sleeve. Her heart skipped a beat, and the air seemed to leave her lungs. "The what?"

"We are officially engaged, Chloe," Mason reminded her smoothly, his gray eyes flashing with a dangerous, thrilling mix of corporate challenge and genuine amusement. "And in this family, an engagement isn't just a quiet promise—it's a public spectacle. Try to look happy about it for the cameras and the relatives."

With a breathless sigh of absolute regret, Chloe linked her arm tightly through his, keeping her chin held high and her shoulders back as they descended the grand staircase once more into the lion's den.