A contract with the CEO

Chapter4-the confrontation

Scarlett Johnson’s POV)

I knew something was off the second I stepped out of my building.

Not in a dramatic way.

Nothing obvious.

Just… that feeling.

The kind you don’t notice right away, but it sits under your skin like a quiet warning you can’t explain.

I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, scanning the street without making it obvious. Morning traffic. People moving like they had somewhere to be. Nothing out of place.

And yet, I didn’t move immediately.

Because instinct doesn’t lie.

Even when you want it to.

“Scarlett Johnson.”

I didn’t flinch.

Didn’t turn right away either.

I just stood there for half a second, letting the voice settle in my head.

Calm.

Controlled.

Familiar.

Of course.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

James Devon.

Standing like he belonged everywhere, even on a street that had nothing to do with him.

Suit perfectly in place. Expression unreadable. Eyes already on me like I was exactly where he expected me to be.

That annoyed me more than it should’ve.

“You found me,” I said.

Not surprised.

Just stating it.

“I don’t look for things I don’t intend to find,” he replied.

Of course he didn’t.

I crossed my arms slightly. “That sounds exhausting.”

His gaze didn’t shift. “It’s effective.”

I almost smiled, Almost.

“What do you want?” I asked.

Straight to the point.

No time for whatever this was supposed to be.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at me—really looked this time. Not the way he had at the event. This was more focused. More deliberate.

Like he was confirming something.

I didn’t like that.

“We need to talk,” he said.

I let out a quiet breath. “We already did.”

“Not about what matters.”

“And what exactly is that?”

A pause.

Then—

“Last night.”

There it was.

I held his gaze.

“Last night was exactly what it was supposed to be,” I said. “Temporary.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“Not entirely.”

Something in my chest shifted.

I ignored it.

“If this is about regret,” I said, “you’re wasting your time. I don’t do that.”

“Neither do I.”

“Good. Then we’re done here.”

I moved to step past him.

He didn’t touch me.

Didn’t block me.

But—

“Protection.”

That single word stopped me.

Of course it did.

I turned back slowly.

“Be more specific,” I said.

Even though I already knew.

His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“We didn’t use it.”

Direct.

No hesitation.

No attempt to soften it.

That was… expected.

Still didn’t mean I liked hearing it out loud.

I let out a quiet breath, shifting my weight slightly.

“And?”

“And that creates a variable,” he said.

Of course he would call it that.

A variable.

Not a possibility.

Not a risk.

Just something to calculate.

“You’re assuming a lot,” I said.

“I don’t assume. I confirm.”

I studied him for a second.

“You tracked me down for that?”

“Yes.”

Honest.

Again.

I shook my head slightly. “That’s… intense.”

“It’s necessary.”

“For you, maybe.”

“For both of us.”

That made me pause.

Silence stretched between us.

Not awkward.

Just… heavy.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

And I hated that he wasn’t wrong.

“What do you want?” I asked again.

This time quieter.

More careful.

“A test,” he said. “A medical confirmation.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

I looked away for a second, exhaling slowly.

This wasn’t how mornings were supposed to go.

Not mine, anyway.

Then again—

Neither was last night.

“And if I say no?” I asked.

“You won’t.”

That made me look back at him.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re not careless.”

That—

Caught me off guard.

Not the words.

The tone.

It wasn’t condescending.

It wasn’t dismissive.

It was… certain.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

Another pause.

And this time—

I felt it.

The shift.

Not in him.

In the situation.

Because this wasn’t just about him anymore.

It was about me.

My body.

My consequences.

“Where?” I asked finally.

His expression didn’t change.

But I saw it.

That slight shift of confirmation.

“Now,” he said. “I’ve already arranged it.”

Of course he had.

“Of course you did,” I muttered.

Then I looked at him properly.

“And what makes you think I’m just going to follow your plan?”

“Because it aligns with yours.”

I let out a quiet breath.

Annoyed.

Because again—

He wasn’t wrong.

“Fine,” I said.

“But we do this my way too.”

That got his attention.

“How?”

“No assumptions. No decisions without me. And you don’t treat me like I’m part of some business transaction.”

A pause.

Short.

Measured.

Then—

“That depends.”

I raised an eyebrow. “On what?”

“On whether you are.”

I stared at him.

For a second longer than necessary.

“Careful,” I said quietly. “You’re starting to sound like you’re not in control.”

That landed.

I saw it.

And for the first time—

Something in his expression shifted.

“Get in the car, Scarlett.”

Not a command.

Not entirely.

But close.

I held his gaze for a second.

Then walked past him.

Not because he told me to.

Because I chose to.

The ride was quiet.

Too quiet.

He didn’t try to fill it.

Neither did I.

Because there wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t make this more real than it already was.

The clinic was exactly what I expected.

Private.

Clean.

Discreet.

The kind of place where questions weren’t asked unless necessary.

“Mr. Devon,” the receptionist greeted immediately.

Of course.

I glanced at him. “You do this often?”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

We were taken in almost immediately.

No waiting.

No delay.

Everything efficient.

Controlled.

“Scarlett Johnson?”

I looked up.

The doctor.

Older. Calm. Professional.

“Mr. Don,” James said.

Of course he knew him.

“This way,” Mr. Don said.

I followed.

Because at this point—

What else was I supposed to do?

The room felt too quiet.

Too clinical.

Too real.

“You understand why you’re here?” Mr. Don asked.

“Yes,” I said.

My voice didn’t shake.

I made sure of that.

The test itself didn’t take long.

But the waiting—

That was different.

James stood near the window.

Still.

Controlled.

Like this was just another situation to manage.

I sat on the edge of the chair, hands resting loosely in my lap.

Not tense.

Not relaxed.

Just… there.

Neither of us spoke.

Because there wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t change everything.

When Mr. Don walked back in—

Everything shifted.

“The results are positive.”

Silence.

Complete.

Heavy.

I didn’t react immediately.

Didn’t panic.

Didn’t move.

I just—

Processed.

Pregnant.

The word didn’t feel real yet.

Didn’t settle.

Didn’t mean anything.

Not fully.

I looked at James.

He didn’t look shocked.

Of course he didn’t.

But something in his expression had changed.

Not control.

Something under it.

“Alright,” I said quietly.

That was it.

No breakdown.

No reaction.

Just—

Acceptance.

Because panic wouldn’t fix anything.

“We’ll discuss next steps,” James said.

Of course he would.

Already moving forward.

Already controlling the outcome.

I stood up slowly.

“Yeah,” I said.

My voice steady.

Even if everything else wasn’t.

Because one thing was clear now.

This wasn’t temporary anymore.

And neither of us had planned for what came next.