Our Contracted Romance

Chapter 5: ' I Wasn’t Leaving '

At the mansion, Madam Vallin lounged elegantly on the chaise, a glass of white wine between her fingers. She was midway through giving the maids another harsh lecture when her phone buzzed.

She frowned, swiping to answer.

“Yes? What is it now?”

The doctor’s shaky voice filled the line.

“Madam… your husband is at the hospital. With the girl. She had a reaction to the injection and—”

Before he could finish, her expression twisted.

“With Mara?” she spat the name like poison. “What do you mean my husband is with her? He left the office for that girl?”

The doctor hesitated, but she could hear the sounds of medical equipment in the background.

“He hasn’t left her side, Madam. He—”

She didn’t let him finish.

“Oh, wonderful,” she snapped. “Just wonderful. I tell you to give her one simple shot, and now my husband is playing hero beside her hospital bed.”

The maids froze, watching her with wide eyes as her voice rose.

“Useless doctor. Useless girl. Useless day!”

She slammed her glass down, wine spilling onto the table.

“I’m going over there,” she hissed. “RIGHT NOW.”

And without waiting for anyone, she grabbed her coat, heels clicking furiously as she stormed out—

Her fury gathering like a storm ready to break over the hospital.

The moment Madam Vallin stormed out, her angry footsteps echoing down the marble hall, the maids exchanged quick, frightened glances.

One of them—Lina—pressed a hand to her chest. “If Madam finds out the girl almost died… she’ll blame us next.”

Another maid swallowed hard. “She already blamed the nurse. And she made the doctor lie. If this continues, that poor girl won’t last a week in this house.”

The head maid, older and sharper than the rest, exhaled shakily.

“No. This has gone too far. Mr. Vallin needs to know who truly caused this.”

The others stared at her, stunned.

“Are you crazy?” one whispered. “If Madam discovers we told—”

“She won’t,” the head maid said firmly. “The CEO protects what’s his. He’ll protect us before he protects her lies.”

With trembling hands, she picked up the house phone and dialed the CEO’s private line—something only staff of higher rank dared to do.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then his cold voice came through.

“Vallin speaking.”

The head maid gathered her courage.

“Sir… forgive us, but we need to tell you something important.”

The other maids leaned in, holding their breath.

She continued, voice steady despite her fear.

“Your wife… Madam Vallin… she instructed the doctor earlier. She told him not to run any tests on the new girl. She said to give her the injection directly.”

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence from his end.

The head maid swallowed.

“Sir… the doctor lied. It wasn’t the nurse. It was Madam Vallin who told him to skip the procedure.”

The phone remained quiet for a long, dangerous moment.

Then Vallin’s voice came through—low, sharp, and icy.

“…I see.”

Not a question.

Not disbelief.

Just quiet, deadly understanding.

The maids looked at each other, trembling.

Vallin spoke again, slowly.

“Thank you for your honesty. Not a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the maids chorused, voices shaky.

He hung up.

The maids stared at the silent phone, hearts pounding.

One finally whispered:

“…God help Madam Vallin now.”

[ BACK AT THE HOSPITAL ]

Jonas rushed back into the private room, breath unsteady, as if he’d sprinted the entire hallway. His eyes were wide—not with confusion, but with the kind of fear a loyal employee felt when the truth was too heavy to carry.

“Sir,” he said urgently, stepping closer. “I—I need to tell you something. It’s about what happened today. About the injection.”

Vallin didn’t look up at first.

He sat beside Mara’s bed, eyes fixed on her pale face, fingers barely touching the edge of her blanket as if checking she was still real, still breathing.

“Sir,” Jonas repeated, voice shaking. “It was… it was Madam. She told the doctor not to run tests. She ordered him to give her the clearance injection directly. She—”

“I know,” Vallin said quietly.

Jonas froze mid-sentence.

Vallin finally raised his head, and the look in his eyes made Jonas swallow hard. There was no shock. No confusion.

Just cold certainty.

“And I know the doctor lied,” Vallin added slowly. “I know the nurse was innocent. I know everything.”

Jonas blinked. “Sir… when?”

Vallin exhaled through his nose, eyes dark with a storm he was barely holding back.

“The house staff called me. They told me the truth.”

He leaned back in the chair, jaw tightening.

“I was willing to give her… patience. I was willing to overlook her moods. But this—” His voice hardened. “She put Mara’s life at risk.”

Jonas lowered his head, unsure what to say.

Vallin looked at him sharply.

“When my wife arrives—and she will—no one lets her near this room. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

The CEO turned his gaze back to the sleeping girl, letting the silence settle again.

“She nearly died today,” he murmured, anger beneath every word. “Because of someone who should’ve known better.”

Then, softer—barely a whisper:

“I won’t let anyone else touch her.”

Jonas nodded and stepped back, realizing something quietly terrifying:

This wasn’t just responsibility anymore.

Whatever Mara was becoming to him…

Vallin wasn’t letting go.

Outside the hospital, the wind was sharp, stirring the loose edges of Madam Vallin’s coat as she stepped out of her car. Her heels struck the pavement with the same anger burning in her chest. She didn’t wait for her driver—she stormed toward the entrance like the whole building owed her an apology.

But she didn’t make it far.

Just before she reached the sliding doors, Jonas stepped directly into her path, blocking her with a calmness that only made her angrier.

“Move,” she snapped. “Where is my husband? I want to see him. Now.”

Jonas didn’t flinch.

“Madam, I’m under strict orders. You cannot go inside.”

Her eyes widened. “Strict orders from who? From Adrian? Since when do you take commands to stop his own wife?”

“Since today,” Jonas replied evenly. “He asked—no, instructed—that you do not approach the room.”

She scoffed loudly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Step aside. I’m going to see my husband.”

She went to push past him.

Jonas didn’t move.

“Madam,” he said, voice firmer this time, “the CEO is aware of what happened. All of it.”

A flicker of panic broke through her anger.

“…What exactly do you think he knows?”

Jonas met her gaze directly.

“That you ordered the doctor to skip her tests. That you told him to give her the injection blindly. And that your actions nearly killed her.”

Madam Vallin’s breath caught.

For one second—just one—fear flashed through her expression.

Then it twisted back into rage.

“Oh, please,” she hissed. “That girl is nothing. A nobody. She doesn’t deserve this entire circus act you’re putting on.”

Jonas’s eyes hardened.

“The CEO doesn’t see it that way.”

She froze again.

Jonas continued, voice low, calm, and dangerous:

“And for the first time since I’ve worked for him… I’ve never heard his voice sound like that. He is furious, Madam. Truly furious.”

Her lips parted—panic now fully visible.

She tried to step forward again. “I don’t care. I am still his wife. I have every right—”

Jonas shook his head.

“Not today, Madam.”

Behind them, two hospital security guards approached quietly, standing at Jonas’s side.

“Please return to your car,” Jonas added. “Sir’s instructions are strict. You are not permitted inside.”

Her face burned red with humiliation as she realized—

She had been shut out.

Rejected.

Denied access.

By her own husband.

Her hands curled tightly around her handbag, knuckles whitening.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered, eyes shooting daggers at Jonas. “Not by a long shot.”

Jonas didn’t blink.

“Then you might want to decide very carefully,” he said softly, “which side you want to be on when it finally is.”

Madam Vallin slammed the door behind her and sank into the back seat, breathing hard, her heartbeat still racing with rage and humiliation.

The driver glanced at her through the rear-view mirror, uncertain.

“Madam… where would you like to go?”

Her nails dug into her handbag, eyes glittering with something sharp and dangerous.

“Take me to Mara’s house.”

Her voice was low. Controlled. Too calm.

The driver hesitated.

“Mara’s… Madam, you mean the girl’s family home?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “The apartment they were in before. The old place. Drive there. Now.”

“But Madam, the CEO said—”

She leaned forward suddenly, her voice like acid.

“Did I ask you what the CEO said? I said drive.”

The driver swallowed, turned his eyes back to the road, and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

As the city blurred past the window, Madam Vallin’s expression hardened, jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached.

Mara.

That little girl with her soft voice and downcast eyes.

That girl who had already stolen too much attention.

Her husband’s attention.

She refused to lose control.

She refused to be humiliated twice in one day.

If she couldn’t get to her at the hospital…

She would go to the next place she could reach her.

Her mother’s home.

Her lips curled slowly.

“Let’s see what sort of woman raised her,” she muttered.

“And let’s see how she reacts when I make her understand who she’s dealing with.”

The driver kept his eyes forward, but the tension in the car was thick—heavy enough to choke on.

Whatever Madam Vallin planned…

It wouldn’t be kindness.

Meanwhile, Mara’s eyelashes fluttered before her eyes opened fully—slow, heavy, as if waking through water.

The room was dim and quiet except for the soft rhythm of the heart monitor. Her chest rose unevenly as she tried to breathe, the oxygen mask making her voice faint.

A tall figure was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward with both elbows on his knees, head bowed.

Adrian Vallin.

He looked like he hadn’t moved in hours.

The moment she shifted, even slightly, he lifted his head sharply.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, he didn’t speak—he just watched her, something fierce and unreadable flashing across his face.

“Mara.”

His voice was low, tight. “Can you hear me?”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “Y… yes.”

He exhaled—a sound almost like relief—but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease.

“You fainted,” he said quietly. “Your system reacted badly to an injection. Doctors nearly lost control of the situation.”

Mara blinked slowly, her brows pulling together. “Injection…?”

“You’re safe now,” he added quickly, as if he didn’t want her to panic. “You’re stable. Breathe slowly.”

She inhaled shakily, trying to do exactly that.

Adrian stood, stepping closer to adjust the oxygen mask carefully against her face. His fingers didn’t touch her skin, but they hovered close—close enough that she could feel the warmth.

She whispered, “I’m… sorry.”

His jaw tightened instantly.

“Don’t say that,” he said, voice firm. “You’re not at fault.”

She opened her mouth to ask more—what happened, who did what, why she felt like she’d been burning from the inside—but he gently shook his head.

“You need to rest. No stress. No questions yet.”

His tone was soft… but beneath it was a quiet anger he was struggling to keep contained.

Her breathing steadied, eyelids drooping again.

Before she drifted, she felt a light touch—his hand resting carefully over hers.

Not tight.

Not possessive.

Just… there.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

And for the first time since the day began, she let herself believe it.

The evening light slipped through the curtains in soft golden stripes when Mara’s eyes fluttered open again. The room was quiet—calmer, dimmer—and the beeping of the monitor was steadier now.

She blinked, confused at first, before remembering where she was.

Someone shifted beside her.

Adrian was still there.

Only this time, he wasn’t leaning forward tensely—he had removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. His sleeves were rolled up, tie loosened, a faint shadow of exhaustion under his eyes.

But the moment she stirred, he was fully alert.

“Mara?”

His voice dropped to something gentle, something warm. “Easy. Don’t rush.”

She swallowed, her throat dry but no longer painful. “I… I’m awake?”

“Yes.” There was a softer breath, almost relieved. “How do you feel?”

She hesitated, then whispered, “Heavy… but better.”

He nodded once, as if grounding himself. “That’s expected. Your body had a rough time stabilizing.”

She pushed herself a little upright, and he immediately reached out—stopping just short of touching her shoulder.

“Careful.”

His hand hovered there, steadying her without pressing.

Mara’s eyes roamed the room, then settled on the chair, the untouched cup of coffee, the jacket he’d tossed aside.

“You stayed?” she asked quietly.

Adrian didn’t pretend otherwise.

“I wasn’t leaving.”

Warmth prickled behind her eyes—not tears, just surprise. “You didn’t have to.”

“I did.”

His voice deepened, an undercurrent of something simmering beneath it.

“Someone needed to make sure you woke up.”

She looked down at her lap, fingers curling into the blanket. “I’m sorry for causing trouble.”

Adrian’s expression sharpened—not with anger at her, but with something protective.

“You didn’t cause trouble,” he said slowly. “Someone else did.”

She looked up, confused.

“Who?”

He shook his head. “You’re still recovering. I’ll explain when you’re stronger.”

She wanted to ask again, but his gaze softened slightly, stopping her.

A nurse stepped inside then, clearing her throat. “Miss… it’s good to see you awake. We’ll run a few checks.”

Adrian stepped back but stayed in the room, watching closely as they examined her vitals, adjusted the oxygen, checked her pulse.

When they finished and left, the room grew quiet again.

Mara lowered her head. “Thank you… for staying.”

Adrian stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her with a look she couldn’t quite read.

“You scared everyone today,” he said quietly. “Including me.”

Her breath caught.

He added, softer:

“Don’t do it again.”

For the first time, something almost like a smile touched the edge of his expression.

She couldn’t speak—didn’t know how to respond—so she simply nodded.

He pulled a chair closer and sat down again.

“You’re not sleeping alone tonight,” he said simply. “Try to rest.”

And for the first time that day, she let her eyes close without fear.