CONTRACTED: His Dangerous Obsession

I Found You

Monday morning...

Phoebe stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her clothes. She wore a deep burgundy waistcoat suit over a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to the forearm. She added simple earrings, grabbed the matching blazer and headed downstairs.

She drove to Vantage Advisory and parked in the staff area. Inside the building, she greeted the receptionist with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Miss Quinn." The receptionist replied with a friendly nod. "Third floor."

"Thank you." Phoebe took the elevator to the third floor and found her desk. She settled in, arranged her notes and started going through her assigned tasks.

A notification from the team chat pulled her attention. The manager had called an urgent meeting in the conference room. When the team assembled, the manager stood at the front with a serious face.

"We have a problem with Client X," the manager started without preamble. A client account worth several million was at risk of walking. After the manager was done explaining the situation at hand, he threw the question to the floor.

One team member, called Theo, spoke first. "We could restructure the contract and extend the payment terms," he said, tapping his notepad with a pen. "This could ease pressure on their side and buy us time to fix the underlying issues later."

The manager shook his head, unconvinced. "And what happens to our own cash position while we're waiting on that 'later'? We're not a bank, Theo."

"It's temporary."

"It could become permanent if we're not careful about that." The manager said. "Next."

Another colleague, Sofia, jumped in. "What if we offer a discount tied to early payment instead? Incentivise them to pay faster rather than restructuring anything."

"Too risky," another colleague added. "Besides, they've ignored every discount offer we sent in the last quarter. "Why would this one land differently?"

Sofia opened her mouth, then closed it. Clearly, she doesn't have an answer to that.

Another idea, escalating to legal language in the contract, got shot down for being the fastest way to actually lose the client rather than fix anything.

The suggestions kept coming, but each one had gaps. The manager then turned to Phoebe. "Quinn, you've been quiet. What do you think?"

Phoebe sat up straighter as every head turned to her. "I think the real issue isn't the contract structure," she said. "It's that everyone's trying to fix a cash flow problem with a structural solution. Restructuring the contract could sure buy us time, but it doesn't solve why the cash isn't moving in the first place."

Theo frowned. "So what does?"

"Their receivables cycle," she said, looking at Theo. "The actual bottleneck is how long it takes them to invoice after delivery. If we tighten that, the cash flow problem resolves on its own without touching the contracts at all."

The manager leaned forward. "That sounds promising, but what if the client refuses to change their invoicing process? They've resisted that exact request twice before. It's in the account history." He handed the tablet to Phoebe to see the emails where the client had refused to change their invoicing process.

She studied it for a minute, noted the client's complaint and let out a quiet exhale. "Then we don't ask them to overhaul the whole process." She said, handing the tablet back to the manager. "We isolate it to the three accounts responsible for most of the delay; their biggest, slowest payers. Pilot the change there only. Show them the cash flow numbers improve in thirty days, then ask for the company-wide rollout once they've already seen it work." She paused and looked at the faces of her colleagues. "Smaller ask. Same result. And it's harder to say no to something they've already watched succeed."

Theo glanced at the manager, nodding. "That actually closes the gap."

The manager looked at Phoebe for a long time, impressed. "That's the plan." He tapped his folder shut. "Quinn, write it up by end of day so we can put it out by tomorrow. Good catch."

As the meeting broke and chairs scraped back, Phoebe felt satisfied, and she stepped out. Her ideas had helped move the team forward, and it had nothing to do with anyone pulling strings. She had earned her place through her own work.

...

After lunch, one of the team leads dropped a thick file on Phoebe's desk and exhaled deeply. "Here is a new client case," the team lead said. "Everyone in the department got the same file. Go through it and bring your individual solutions by Thursday. We'll compare approaches."

Phoebe opened it that afternoon and read through the pages carefully. Near the middle, a name caught her attention. A prestigious charity organisation, The Halloway Foundation, had entered a partnership with Lane Holdings.

The Halloway Foundation.

She knew that name. In fact, everyone did. It is one of the most respectable charity organisations in the country. And there it was, listed as entering a new partnership with Lane Holdings, with a joint gala planned to mark the occasion.

Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. "So this is how you want to move now, mhmm?" She muttered under her breath.

It made perfect sense why Ethan needed this partnership as it'll help him repair his public image after the scandal with Vivien Monroe. A charity partnership with the Halloway Foundation was just the kind of image laundering his PR team would have crawled to.

She closed the file, tucked it into her bag at the end of the day, and took it home with her.

...

That evening, Glacier Residence was back to the usual quietness that it had when it was just the two of them. Carl had gone back to the Manor.

"Are you familiar with the Halloway Foundation?" Phoebe asked, between bites. "And their partnership with Lane Holdings?"

Damon glanced up and nodded. "Yes. It was announced recently."

Phoebe nodded back and they continued eating in silence for a few minutes. Then Damon looked at her. "Do you need help with anything?"

She considered the question, then set down her fork. "Actually. Yes. I heard the charity will hold an event soon. I need your help to get us an invitation."

Okay. I will get the invitation for us." Damon said.

"Thank you," Phoebe said.

They finished the rest of the meal without much more talk.

After dinner, Phoebe went to the study Damon had prepared for her when she told him about the new job. The room was simple and felt calming with soft lighting, a comfortable desk, and shelves for books. It looked completely different from Damon’s own serious study.

She sat down with the file, opened her laptop, and lost herself in it entirely. She didn't notice the passing time. She wrote notes, checked details and built her plans.

A knock sounded on the door, but she did not hear it. Then, the door opened quietly; Damon stepped inside with a cup of coffee and placed it beside her without a word.

She startled slightly, looking up. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I knocked," he said. "You seemed deep into your work."

"I was." She picked up the cup, grateful for it, and took a slow sip. "Thank you for this."

"You looked like you needed it," he replied. He gave her a small nod and left the room to return to his own study.

Phoebe watched the door close behind him and she let out a quiet breath before she returned to the file.

Some time later, when her eyes ached enough that she finally looked up to rest them, she noticed a small flash drive beside her laptop that hadn't been there before.

She frowned, picked it up and turned it over in her fingers. She didn't remember putting it there. She glanced toward the door, then back at the drive. Curiosity won and she plugged it into her laptop.

She browsed through the folders until she found an audio file. She clicked on it and listened.

The recording played clearly. She recognised the main voice immediately and listened quietly. By the end of it, her hands had gone very still on the keyboard and her eyes narrowed.

"I found you," she muttered as a slow smile appeared on her face.