The Silent Contract

Chapter Two:The Selection

I got in the car after him—

What else was I going to do? He just swung that door open, didn’t even bother with words, and the air changed. Like, whatever happens now, there was no reverse button. This car? Straight-up fever dream. Leather seats reeking of expensive cologne, so plush they almost swallowed me whole. Tinted windows so dark, I felt like I slipped off the grid the second I slid inside.

No one said a thing. We just… drove.

I had nothing. No bag, no spare shirt, just my almost-dead phone clinging to life. Oddly enough, not freaking out. Like, I should’ve lost it, but I didn't. Maybe my nerves just ran away screaming.

City lights blurred past as we left it all behind. My stomach growled— I should’ve eaten more than someone else’s leftover croissant bits. But the ride itself? Smooth as silk, engine purring like a satisfied cat. Fancy, even in the way it moved.

Next thing, we to the airport. No lines, no annoying security checks, no nothing.

He handled everything—cool, slick, not a bead of sweat. Then, out of thin air, he hands me a passport. My photo, my name. Never even filled out a single form. Wild.

We parked ourselves in the waiting area. Silence got loud. My thoughts started throwing a party in my head. I finally blurted, “I don’t have any clothes. Just what I’ve got on.”

He just nodded. “That’s sorted. "You’ll be fine.” His voice, softer now. Almost like he was letting a little humanity show.

I shot my shot: “What’s your name?”

He looked at me, caught off guard for a sec. “Vale.”

I was about to say something about his name being cool, but then—boom—intercom called our flight.

On the plane, I spotted my name stitched onto a business class seat. Next to it? Vale Michaelson. I just gawked for a second.

Trying to ease the silence, I joked, “Michaelson sounds way better with Clarke than Hansgregor. Just saying.” I laughed, then instantly realized—yeah, that could totally sound like a proposal.

He grinned. “Already want to marry me?”

We both laughed. For the first time in forever, I felt a little less alone.

I must’ve knocked out, because next thing I knew, Vale tapped my shoulder. “We’re at our destination. Time to get off.”

Back to his stone-cold self.

Outside, a red luxury car waited. Vale opened the door and told me to get in. He didn’t join, just watched as I got whisked away.

The new driver? Silent mountain of a man. I kept my mouth shut. Outside, city lights glittered like a jewelry store window. No clue where we were going.

Finally, we pulled up to a hotel that screamed money. The driver handed me a suitcase and a key, marched me to my door, then vanished.

Inside? The room was palatial. Soft everything, spotless, way too perfect. My old apartment looked like a shoe box in comparison.

Then I spotted a pink envelope. My name, all swirly and pretty.

I opened it.

Dear Miss Hansgregor,

You have now been selected to participate as a contestant for the ongoing housekeeper position.

This is your chance to prove why you’re eligible and worthy of this opportunity to serve me.

You will be picked up at 4:00 PM tomorrow.

Put on the brown dress in the suitcase you’ve been provided.

—WI

My heart took a nosedive.

A contest? I wasn’t the only one?

Didn’t feel like a job anymore. More like something out of a reality show, but with higher stakes.

I tore open the suitcase. Clothes folded tighter than origami—designer, obviously. Dresses, pants, shoes, all in my size. Not weird at all, right?

I pulled out the brown dress. Short, tight, looked like it belonged at a gala, not a cleaning gig. But when I slipped it on? I felt… different. Kinda powerful. Like someone finally noticed me.

No clue what was happening, but I just went with it. Lay in bed, heart doing gymnastics. Fear and excitement—couldn’t tell which was winning.

—

Next morning, I woke up to a card under the door: Contestant 8. Silver clip. Guess that’s me. At least seven others, then.

Took the elevator down. There he was—Vale.

“Vale!” I called, giving him a hopeful smile. He didn’t even blink, just turned and walked off. I trailed after him, what else?

He led me outside to a black bus. Seven other girls inside, all numbered, all looking like they were born rich. Not a single word.

The ride felt like a funeral procession.

When we got there, they lined us up like dolls on display. Eyes raked over us, measuring, judging. I felt naked, even in that fancy dress.

Then—his voice. Deep, cold, everywhere at once.

“I pick Clarke.”

Didn’t even have time to smile before he kept going:

“My reason is not because you stand out.

It’s because you have no one after you.

This contract is safe.

Your parents died in an accident.

Your aunt abandoned you.

You’ve lived with people who mistreated you.

You’re living alone, wretchedly, in a little place in Europe.

You have no one to tell about this… even if you wanted to.”

And just like that, I knew—this was way more than a job. And I was in way, way deep.

His words cut into me.

They weren’t just facts—they were attacks.

Raw. Exposing. Truthful.

And they broke me.

I stood there, frozen. My eyes burned with tears I didn’t want to shed in front of the others. My chest felt tight. My lungs couldn’t take in enough air.

I wanted to scream.

But I couldn’t.

I broke down—right there. No time to grieve. No one came to comfort me.

The other girls were dismissed.

I was led into another car, alone this time, and driven away without a single word exchanged.

The mansion I was taken to looked like it was in the middle of nowhere. It was massive—everything I’d ever dreamed of. Tall columns, marble stairs, arched windows, and endless space.

But it wasn’t mine.

I was there… to work.

Or maybe something more.

When I stepped inside, the silence was thick.

There was no boss. No welcome. No human interaction.

Just air-conditioning, furniture that looked untouched, and lights that turned on without switches.

I wandered until I found a door with my name on it—Clarke.

I opened it and stepped into the room. It was warm, feminine, cozy. My things were already there. I didn’t even remember bringing anything.

The bed pulled me in.

I lay there, heart pounding.

Alone. In a stranger’s mansion. Selected for something I didn’t understand.

And yet…

I felt safe.

Safe in the strangest, scariest, most unpredictable way possible.