Chapter 15: The First Night of the Contract
2207 Words
The Blackwell Tower was silent at midnight, Boss.
Zara stood outside Ayaan Blackwell’s penthouse door with trembling hands, Boss. The contract was signed. Her brother’s hospital bill was paid. But her freedom... that was gone, Boss.
180 days, Boss. That’s all she had to survive.
She knocked once. No answer. The door clicked open on its own. Cold air hit her face, Boss. Inside, the room was all black marble and glass. No warmth. Just like the man who owned it, Boss.
“You’re late.”
Ayaan’s voice came from the shadows, Boss. He sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Black suit. No tie. Eyes like ice, Boss.
Zara forced herself to step in, Boss. “I... I came when you called, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Ayaan,” he corrected, not looking at her, Boss. “In this house, you don’t use titles. You use obedience.”
Her stomach dropped, Boss. This wasn’t just paper anymore.
He finally turned, Boss. His gaze swept over her white dress. The one she wore to the hospital. Cheap. Simple. Nothing like the women in his world, Boss.
“You signed to save your brother,” he said, standing up slowly, Boss. “So tell me, Zara. How far would you go to keep him alive?”
Zara’s throat was dry, Boss. “The contract says... companion. Not...” She couldn’t say it, Boss.
“Not what?” He walked closer, Boss. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. Dark. Expensive. Dangerous, Boss. “Not touch? Not share my bed? Read the fine print again, Miss Carter.”
Her hands shook, Boss. She remembered the line. Page 7, Clause 3. The companion shall fulfill all reasonable demands of the CEO.
“Reasonable,” she whispered, Boss.
Ayaan’s lips curved. Not a smile, Boss. A warning. “I define reasonable.”
He set his glass down, Boss. The sound was loud in the silence. “Tonight, you sleep here. In my room. On the floor, if you must. But you do not leave this penthouse without my permission, Boss.”
Zara blinked. “The floor?”
“You’re not my wife, Zara,” he said coldly, Boss. “You’re my contract. And contracts don’t get privileges until they earn them.”
Her eyes burned, Boss. But she didn’t cry. She couldn’t. Her brother was alive because of this, Boss.
“Fine,” she said, voice steady even though her heart was breaking, Boss. “Where’s the blanket?”
For the first time, something flickered in Ayaan’s eyes, Boss. Surprise. Maybe respect. But it was gone in a second, Boss.
“There are no blankets in my room, Zara,” he said. “Only consequences.”
He walked to the bedroom door and opened it, Boss. The bed was huge. King-size. Silk sheets. And the floor next to it? Hard marble, Boss.
Zara swallowed, Boss. She walked in and sat on the cold floor, hugging her knees, Boss. Behind her, she heard the door lock.
“Sleep well, Contract,” Ayaan’s voice was the last thing she heard before the lights went out, Boss.
---
2:17 AM, Boss.
Zara couldn’t sleep, Boss. The floor was freezing. Her dress was thin. She shivered, pulling her arms tighter around herself, Boss.
A sound. Footsteps.
She looked up, Boss. Ayaan stood over her. No whiskey now. Just a black blanket in his hands, Boss.
“You’re shaking,” he said flatly, Boss.
Zara didn’t answer, Boss. Pride was all she had left, Boss.
He dropped the blanket on her lap, Boss. It was heavy. Warm. It smelled like him, Boss.
“Don’t mistake this for kindness,” he muttered, turning away, Boss. “If you get sick, the contract is void. And I don’t like losing investments.”
He got into bed without another word, Boss.
Zara stared at the blanket, Boss. She wanted to throw it back at him. But the cold was worse than her pride, Boss.
So she wrapped herself in it, Boss. And for the first time since signing, she closed her eyes and slept, Boss.
---
Morning, Boss. 6:00 AM.
Zara woke up alone, Boss. The blanket was still on her. The bed was empty. A note on the table, Boss.
7:00 AM. Breakfast. Downstairs. Do not be late. - A
She stood up, her legs stiff, Boss. The penthouse felt like a prison, Boss. A beautiful, billionaire prison, Boss.
Downstairs, Ayaan was already eating, Boss. Eggs. Black coffee. No talking, Boss.
“Eat,” he ordered without looking up, Boss.
Zara sat across from him, Boss. The silence was louder than shouting, Boss.
“Today you’ll come to the office with me,” he said finally, Boss. “You’re my companion. People need to see you.”
Zara’s fork stopped mid-air, Boss. “Why?”
“Because, Zara,” Ayaan looked up, eyes sharp, Boss. “My board thinks I’m engaged to Elise Monroe. This contract ruins that lie. You are my alibi, Boss.”
Her heart sank, Boss. So that’s all she was. A lie. A prop, Boss.
“And if I refuse?” she asked quietly, Boss.
Ayaan’s smile was dangerous, Boss. “Then your brother’s second surgery gets ‘delayed’. Hospital errors happen, Zara.”
The food turned to ash in her mouth, Boss.
“I understand,” she whispered, Boss.
“Good,” he said, pushing his plate away, Boss. “Change into something black. No white. White is for brides, not contracts.”
Zara nodded, Boss. She stood up to leave, but his voice stopped her, Boss.
“Zara.”
She turned, Boss.
“Last night...” He paused, Boss. His jaw tightened. “Forget it. Be downstairs in 20 minutes.”
She walked away, confused, Boss. Was that guilt? Regret? Or just control, Boss?
---
Blackwell Corp, 9:00 AM, Boss.
The office was glass and steel, Boss. Everyone stared as Ayaan walked in with her, Boss.
“Who is she?” Whispers followed, Boss.
Ayaan’s hand touched the small of her back, Boss. Possessive. Cold. “This is Zara Carter. My companion for the next 180 days. Any questions?”
Silence, Boss.
Elise Monroe was in the lobby, Boss. Blonde. Perfect. Furious, Boss.
“Ayaan?” Elise stepped forward, Boss. “What is this?”
Ayaan didn’t flinch, Boss. “This is my choice, Elise. The board wanted a marriage. I gave them a contract instead.”
Elise’s eyes burned into Zara’s, Boss. “You’re nothing. He’ll throw you away in 180 days.”
Zara met her gaze, Boss. She didn’t bow, Boss. “Maybe. But for 180 days, I’m here, Boss.”
Ayaan’s fingers pressed slightly on her back, Boss. Approval? Or warning? She didn’t know, Boss.
---
Night again, Boss. Day 1 of 180 ended.
Back in the penthouse, Zara stood by the window, Boss. The city lights looked like stars, Boss. But she felt farther from them than ever, Boss.
The door opened, Boss. Ayaan.
He didn’t speak, Boss. He just placed another blanket on the couch, Boss. Then he walked to his room and shut the door, Boss.
Zara stared at the blanket, Boss.
He was ruthless, Boss. Cold, Boss. But last night, he gave her warmth, Boss. Tonight, a couch, Boss.
Was he changing, Boss? Or was this just another clause in the contract?
She didn’t know, Boss. But 179 days were left, Boss.
And something told her, Boss... this contract was going to break her. Or make her ruthless too, Boss.
10:47 PM, Boss. Blackwell Penthouse.
Zara couldn’t sleep on the couch either, Boss. The blanket was warm, but her mind was louder than the city outside, Boss.
She heard water running, Boss. The bathroom door was cracked open. Steam escaped, Boss.
Then the sound stopped, Boss.
“Zara.”
Ayaan’s voice. Low. Wet. Dangerous, Boss.
She sat up fast, Boss. “Yes?”
“Bring me a towel.”
Her cheeks burned, Boss. “Now?”
“Unless you want me to walk out like this,” he said, Boss. “And scare the entire building.”
Zara stood up, Boss. Her hands shook as she grabbed a white towel from the rack, Boss. She walked to the bathroom door, Boss.
“Leave it outside,” he ordered, Boss.
She hesitated, Boss. “You... you said no privileges, Boss.”
Silence, Boss. Then the door opened a crack, Boss.
Ayaan stood there, Boss. Bare chest. Water dripping down his abs. Hair wet. Eyes dark, Boss. He didn’t cover himself, Boss.
“Take it or leave it, Contract,” he said, Boss.
Zara’s breath caught, Boss. She shoved the towel into his hand and stepped back, Boss. Fast, Boss.
“Smart girl,” he muttered, closing the door, Boss.
But she heard it, Boss. A low chuckle. Was he... amused by her? Boss.
---
Next Morning, Boss. Car Ride.
Ayaan’s black Maybach was silent, Boss. Zara sat beside him, in a black dress like he ordered, Boss. No makeup. Hair tied, Boss.
“Look at me,” he said suddenly, Boss.
She turned, Boss.
“You look tired,” he said, eyes scanning her face, Boss. “The couch wasn’t comfortable?”
Zara’s jaw tightened, Boss. “It’s fine, Boss.”
“Lie,” he said bluntly, Boss. “You’re my contract, Zara. Not my enemy. Yet.”
She didn’t answer, Boss.
Ayaan sighed, Boss. Something she never expected from him, Boss. He opened the mini-bar and pulled out a bottle, Boss. Not alcohol, Boss. Water, Boss.
“Drink,” he said, handing it to her, Boss.
Zara stared at it, Boss. “Is it poisoned?”
Ayaan actually smirked, Boss. A real one, Boss. Small. Cold. But real, Boss.
“If I wanted you dead, Zara, I wouldn’t need poison,” he said, Boss. “I own the hospital your brother is in.”
The bottle felt heavy in her hand, Boss. She drank, Boss.
---
Office Meeting Room, Boss. 11:00 AM.
The board was furious, Boss.
“Mr. Blackwell, Elise Monroe is a Monroe!” One old man shouted, Boss. “You can’t replace her with... with this girl!”
Ayaan didn’t even look at Zara, Boss. “Watch me.”
He stood up, Boss. Walked to the head of the table, Boss. “Elise was a business deal. Zara is my contract. Contracts are legal, Boss. Marriage isn’t required for me to control this company.”
Then he did something that shocked everyone, Boss.
He pulled Zara’s chair out, Boss. “Sit.”
Zara froze, Boss. “I’m not...”
“Sit, Zara,” his voice dropped, Boss. Commanding, Boss.
She sat, Boss.
Ayaan placed his hand on the table, right next to hers, Boss. Their fingers almost touched, Boss.
“This woman,” he said to the board, Boss. “Will be seen with me. Every event. Every dinner. For 180 days. Anyone who touches her, answers to me.”
The room went silent, Boss.
Elise, standing at the door, dropped her clutch, Boss. Her face went red, Boss.
Zara’s heart was pounding, Boss. Was he protecting her? Or marking territory? Boss.
---
Lunch, Boss. Rooftop Garden.
No one was there, Boss. Just them, Boss.
Ayaan ate quietly, Boss. Zara picked at her salad, Boss.
“Why did you do that?” she asked finally, Boss.
“Do what?” he didn’t look up, Boss.
“The board. Elise. You didn’t have to... claim me like that.”
Ayaan put his fork down, Boss. Looked at her, Boss.
“Because if I don’t, they will,” he said simply, Boss. “And I don’t share what’s mine. Even if it’s only for 180 days.”
Zara’s breath hitched, Boss. “I’m not yours, Boss.”
“Aren’t you?” He leaned forward, Boss. “You signed, Zara. Your body. Your time. Your silence. That sounds like mine to me.”
She stood up, Boss. Anger hotter than fear, Boss. “I signed to save my brother. Not to be your toy, Boss!”
Ayaan stood too, Boss. Slow, Boss. Tall, Boss. Intimidating, Boss.
“Then don’t act like one,” he said, voice low, Boss. “Act like a woman who knows her worth. Even in a contract.”
He walked past her, Boss. But before he left, he said one last thing, Boss.
“Tonight, you get the bed, Zara. I’ll take the couch.”
Zara froze, Boss. “What?”
He didn’t turn back, Boss. “Don’t make me regret it, Contract.”
---
Night, Boss. Day 1 Ends.
Zara stood in the bedroom, Boss. The bed was empty. Made. Waiting, Boss.
On the couch outside, she saw Ayaan’s silhouette, Boss. Suit jacket off. Head in his hands, Boss.
For the first time, Boss... he didn’t look ruthless, Boss.
He looked tired, Boss. Alone, Boss.
Zara climbed into the bed, Boss. The sheets were silk. Warm, Boss.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin, Boss. And whispered to the dark, Boss.
“Thank you, Boss.”
Outside, Ayaan’s head lifted slightly, Boss. He heard her, Boss.
But he didn’t answer, Boss.
Because if he did, Boss... the contract might break before 180 days, Boss.
- Writer
