Under The billionaire's contract

Chapter 17

~Chloe

Scott poured me a glass of vitamin water and handed it to me.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked.

I propped my elbows on the kitchen counter and took a large gulp. "I feel sick."

He smiled. "I'm sorry, baby. Is that what you go through every day, the vomiting thing?"

I sighed and took another chug at my water.

"That's just half of it."

He pulled out the chair next to me and sat.

"Don't you think it's best to skip the charity event if you don't feel good? You need to be resting full time."

I shook my head. "It's fine. I can manage

"You're still adamant about telling mum about your wedding tonight, aren't you?"

A sinking feeling weighed heavily in my belly. I sighed a little. It'd been almost a week since we last saw or spoke to each other. I felt like the worse daughter on planet earth.

"It's the only chance I'll get and sooner or later, she's going to see it somewhere."

He nodded. "That's true but just try as much as possible to stay away from Aryan, I don't like him around you."

His face had gone rigid again. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"That's a pretty long story." He looked away.

"One I'm not willing to tell. But my point is, he's not worthy of you. You're too kind for him. He is an insensitive asshole who doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine, I can totally handle him." I honestly hope I could. After that kiss yesterday, I was starting to rethink a lot of things.

"We might not share the same father but I care for you, Chloe, you're my little sister and I want what's best for you."

I smiled. "I know you do."

"Yes I do and I know you don't love Chloe, you're marrying him because you feel you need to, you feel you owe it to this baby, which is wrong because you don't. But If you're really going to go through with this, you both need to figure out your s**t before your child is born because things just get complicated from there and I wouldn't want my niece-

"Or nephew," I added with a meek chuckle.

He smiled. "I wouldn't want my niece or nephew to witness how miserable both of you would make each other."

I reached out to place my hands on his. I wished I could come clean and tell him about our bizarre arrangement but I couldn't. I knew he would react and most likely force me into calling it off. I had to do this on my own. On my own. The way I've always been.

******

I couldn't believe I was doing this.

Jesus Christ this felt wrong in so many ways.

When I stepped into the women's clothing section, Patricia, the woman I'd earlier spoken with on the phone approached me in her oversized sweater and pleated skirt. She was presumably in her late thirties with brown eyes framed by big round glasses.

"It's so nice to finally meet you Mr. Aryan".

She gleamed, pulling my hand into a shake and letting it linger in mine for longer than was expressly necessary to complete a courtesy.

I cleared my throat when she still didn't pull away and glowered at her. "Your hand."

She blushed. "Oh my! So silly of me." She pulled her hand away and clutched it to her side.

"Do you have the dresses ready?"

Her cheeks flushed. She readjusted her glasses.

"Yes, we do. I picked out a couple of dresses according to your description. I'm sure they'd suit your taste. Would you like to see them?"

I nodded.

"This way please."

****

It was four in the evening when I arrived back from the local library. On my way to the entrance of my house, I noticed a black dispatch car parked outside. As I neared, a uniformed driver got out.

"Ms. Callahan, your delivery has arrived." He handed me two pink rectangle boxes.

My brows knitted together. "Thank you. But I think there's a mix-up somewhere. This isn't mine, I didn't order anything."

"I was instructed to deliver this here ma'am."

"By who? What's in it?"

"I don't know, ma'am." He gave a polite nod and opened the car door. "You have a good evening."

I picked up the boxes and checked the delivery card glued to the back. It surprisingly had my name and address written on it. Curious to see what was inside, I hurried into my apartment, plopped down on my bed, and pulled off the pink wrap before opening one of the boxes.

My jaw immediately dropped at the sight of a white two-piece suit outfit neatly wrapped with the prize tag sticking out. "4000 dollars!" I exclaimed, and with shaky hands, opened the other box, only to find a pair of white pearl heels I couldn't possibly afford.

What the-

My mind ran wild. I searched the box for some kind of note and found one tucked underneath the white paper.

I assumed you didn't have anything grand to wear to the fundraiser so I bought this. I'll come pick you up by 7. You better not keep me waiting.

Aryan...

Of course, it was Killian. He was the only douche arrogant enough not to cut off a price tag. I narrowed my eyes and fought back my smile. I admit. The idea of him shopping in the women's section for me did amuse and scare me, but I was mostly amused.

Jiggling with excitement, I clambered out of my bed and dashed into the bathroom.

Three hours later, I was nervously smoothening my hands along the streams of my white skirt.

I admit, this wasn't the kind of outfit I usually went for but it looked good on me.

Puffing out a nervous breath for the last time, I added some powder to my naughty-nice make-up and toed my foot into my heels.

Just then did a knock resonate.

He was here.