CHAPTER SEVEN
891 Words
Carl stood by the door, hands glued behind his back, eyes switching between his boss and the girl like he was watching an episode of a show he didn’t remember agreeing to star in.
What was Ethan doing?
Actually — the real question was,Where on earth did he magically get a contract from?
Carl blinked slowly.
Did he print that thing when I wasn’t looking? Does he have another assistant?
Did I do something wrong—no
Is this how I get fired? God, please.
He watched Ethan slide the contract toward the girl with the same calm confidence he used in board meetings — the same calm confidence he used to shut down grown men.
Except this time… it was directed at a confused, heartbroken, mascara-smeared young woman who looked like she had cried out half her soul downstairs.
Carl nearly choked when Ethan started talking to her.
Ten minutes
Ten Whole Minutes.
His boss never spoke to women that long.
In fact… his boss barely spoke to anyone that long.
But Where did this contract come from
Carl pressed his lips tightly.
So this is how the world ends for me
AMARA’S POV
I stared at the black folder on the table like it was a bomb. A contract? For… revenge?
I didn’t reach for it.I just sat there, hands on my laps, trying to understand what was happening.
Ethan seemed to notice my hesitation. He pushed a bottle of cold water toward me.
“Drink,” he said simply.
I obeyed. My mouth was dry anyway.
After a few seconds, he nodded toward the folder.
“You can open it.”
I slowly lifted the cover — expecting… I don’t know, blood or something.
But it was just words, lot of words,Legal things.Rules,Terms,Responsibilities,Duration,
Conditions.
And the part that made my stomach flip was
TEMPORARY PARTNERSHIP CONTRACT
(Professional + Public Relationship Role)
My eyes widened.
“What… what is this supposed to mean?”
“It’s simple,” Ethan replied. “You will be close to me Publicly and Professionally Enough for him to think you’ve moved on to someone better.”
My heart thudded painfully.
“You want me to pretend to be your… your—”
“My partner,” he finished. “Not forever. For the duration of the plan.”
I shook my head, closing the folder.
“I can’t. I can’t get involved in anything like this.”
“It’s not illegal,” he said calmly.
“That’s not the point,” I whispered, my hands trembling. “This is too much. I barely even know you.”
“You don’t need to,” he said. “You just need to understand that we want the same thing.”
“I don’t want revenge,” I lied.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You do. You tried to hide it, but I saw it.”
I opened my mouth — but nothing came out.
He leaned forward a little, voice softer.
“Read the benefits section.”
I hesitated… but turned the page.
My breath caught.
Full custody of your designs from Rowans’s company
Financial compensation
A guaranteed one-year Salary and luxury
Access to resources to build your own fashion line
Freedom to walk away once the contract ends
My heartbeat slowed.
Everything I ever wished for… was staring at me.
But still…
“This is too much. Why would you offer a stranger all of this?”
His answer was plain.
“Because I want to win. And with you… I will.”
I looked away, my chest twisting painfully.
Silence settled between us.
He didn’t rush me,Didn’t pressure me,Just waited.
Finally, I closed the folder gently.
“I… I need time,” I said. “To think. To check everything. To be sure I’m not making a mistake.”
“That’s fine,” he replied. “You can take it with you.”
“You mean… I can take the contract home?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled shakily, holding the folder close like it might fly away.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He stood.
“Let us drop you home.”
“I—what? No, I can—”
“You’ve been crying for long you forgot the time ,” he said quietly. “It’s late. Let me drive you,your friend will be informed about your departure”
Something in his voice… wasn’t commanding.
It was gentle,So I nodded.
THE CAR RIDE
We walked out through a private exit into an underground parking lot. His car was dark, quiet, and terrifyingly clean.
The moment I sat inside, I felt small — like I didn’t belong.
The drive was completely silent.
No music,No talking.
Just the hum of the engine and my heartbeat in my ears.
Ethan kept his eyes on the road.
I kept mine on the contract.
In that silent car, everything felt too real.
Too close.
Too risky.
When he finally pulled up in front of my house, he didn’t look at me — he just said:
“Think about it. And when you decide… call the number on the last page.”
I nodded.
“Goodnight”
“Goodnight…”
I stepped out, clutching the contract.
And for the first time since Rowan broke up with me…
I felt something other than pain.
I felt possibility.
- Writer
