Behind The Contract

The grand hall shimmered under golden lights, every corner filled with people dressed in elegance and power–Men in tailored suits, women in gowns. Tonight was about Davis, our breakthrough, about him–my father. I adjusted the straps of my dress, smoothing it down as another group approached us. “Congratulations, Mr. Davis!” a man said, shaking my father's hand. “This biotech project, it's revolutionary.” My father smiled. “Thank you, it's only the beginning.” I had heard him say that phrase countless times growing up and it always meant one thing–he was already thinking ten steps ahead while the rest of the world was still catching up. Moments later, the light dimmed slightly, and the spotlight cut across the room. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC announced. “Thank you all for joining us tonight to celebrate a groundbreaking achievement in biotechnology. Please join me in welcoming the brilliant mind behind it all.” Applause erupted like thunder. I clapped along with everyone else as he stepped on the stage. “Thank you,” he began. “Tonight is not just about success. It's about persistence, about vision, and about believing in something even when others doubt it,” he said smiling, scanning through the crowd till our eyes met. “And none of this would have been possible without the incredible team behind me and my family.” I smiled at him as he glanced toward my mother and I. He ended the speech and another wave of applause filled the air. He stepped down from the podium. “Impressive speech,” a voice came from behind me. I turned, for a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade. He stood there with an effortless kind of confidence, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. “Thank you,” my father replied before I could speak, extending his hand. “Lucien Smith, I presume.” “The one and only,” he said, shaking my father's hand. “Congratulations, you've given the industry something to talk about.” “I intend to do more than that,” my father replied with a faint smile. “I don't doubt it.” Then my father turned slightly. “This is my daughter, Kelly.” Lucien’s gaze shifted to me. “Kelly,” he said. “Nice to meet you.” “You too,” I replied. We moved to our table and I found myself aware of him beside me. Not just his presence but the way it shifted the space around us. “Please, have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the seat next to mine. “Thank you,” he said without hesitating. “So, what’s it like growing up in a house where innovation is basically the family language,” he said, leaning back slightly. I let out a quiet laugh. “Challenging and exhausting.” “Honest answer,” he said, amused. “And you?” I asked. “Running a company like Smith Group can't be easy.” “It's not,” he admitted. “But I enjoy the challenge.” “Wow!” There was a pause. Not awkward, just charged. We talked, at first, it was simple. Just work, travel, random childhood memories, but somehow, the conversation flowed effortlessly like we had known each other longer than just a few minutes. He shared his early struggles, the risks he had taken. I shared stories I rarely told anyone–about growing up in the shadow of expectations. We both listened to each other. “That sounds lonely,” he said at one point. “It wasn't always,” I replied, before I could say more, he glanced at his watch and stood up. “I should get going now,” he said. “It was really fun talking to you, Kelly.” “You too,” I replied. “Do you mind if we have dinner together,” he said. “At my penthouse tomorrow. No pressure.” My heart skipped, glancing at his face for a moment. “I don't mind,” I responded. “Good,” he said with a smile, heading towards the exit. “It seems you have a nice time with your new friend,” my mother's voice came beside me. I chuckled faintly. ****** Lucien’s penthouse was at the very top, so I stepped out of the elevator approaching the door. Before I could knock, the door opened. “You're right on time,” he said, stepping aside. I walked in and stopped, the place was stunning. I noticed the table; the dinner was already set, candles flickered gently. The aroma of something rich and delicious lingered in the air. “You went all out,” I said. “I like making a good impression,” he replied. A few chefs and servers moved quietly in the background but as soon as we stepped further in, he gave them a small nod and they left. “Come,” he said, guiding me toward the table. The dinner passed in a blur of soft laughter and easy conversation. The kind that made time feel irrelevant, at some point, we moved to the living area, sitting closer to each other. “Tell me something real,” he said. I glanced at him. “Define real.” “Something you don’t usually say out loud.” I hesitated for a moment. “I don’t always know who I’m supposed to be,” I said quietly. The words slipped out before I could stop them. He didn’t react immediately, he just watched me. “Then maybe,” he said slowly, leaning in slightly.“You’re not supposed to be anyone yet.” The space between us shrank. I became aware of everything—his gaze, the warmth of his presence, the way my heartbeat seemed louder than the silence. And then, his lips brushed mine. I stood still for half a second, then I responded. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, pulling me into something I didn’t fully understand but didn’t want to stop. His hand moved slightly, resting against my arm, sending a spark through me. For a moment, the world disappeared. But then, something inside me snapped. I pulled back abruptly, the space between us snapped open. “Kelly?” His voice was quieter now. I stood up quickly, my pulse racing. “I can’t do this.” “What happened?” “I don’t know,” I admitted, shaking my head. “It just doesn’t feel right.” He stood too, taking a step closer. “We can slow down.” But I was already shaking my head. “I should go.” “Kelly…” “I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my bag. I didn’t wait for him to respond, I walked out.