(Violet’s POV)
The contract between us was made of paper—but it might as well have been carved in
stone.
Lucian didn’t speak as I walked into his office. He simply slid the folder across his desk
with the quiet command of a man used to signing lives away. His posture was
infuriatingly relaxed—leaned back in his leather chair, one leg crossed, golden eyes
locked on me with that calm, unreadable intensity that made my pulse spike for all the
wrong reasons.
“This is what you asked for,” he said. “Clause by clause.”
I stood frozen before the desk, arms crossed, refusing to sit. “And what did you ask for,
Lucian?”
He didn’t blink. “Clause 14.”
Lucian leaned back, calm as ever, his fingers steepled like he was making business
decisions instead of rearranging my entire life.
I opene
