Contracted to My Cold Billionaire Boss

ANDREW __________ The Blackridge boardroom was too polished to feel human. Dark oak table. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls. The city spread beneath them like a quiet kingdom. Andrew Black sat at the head of the table, relaxed in a way that made everyone else feel tense. He didn’t speak first. He rarely did. Across from him sat Uncle Victor Black, a man who always believed volume made arguments stronger. He cleared his throat. “Andrew,” Victor began, folding his hands, “this cannot continue like this.” Andrew didn’t look at him yet. “Continue like what?” he asked calmly. Victor exhaled sharply. “You are thirty-one years old. No engagement. No serious relationship. No… direction toward family continuity.” A faint shift ran through the room. Still, Andrew said nothing. Beside Victor sat Aunt Helena Black, elegant, composed, but visibly tired of pretending patience. Helena leaned forward slightly. Her voice was softer, but firmer. “It’s not about pressure,” she said. “It’s about the future of this family. Your grandfather’s health is declining. The board is worried. The shareholders are beginning to whisper.” Andrew finally looked at her. “Whisper about what?” Helena didn’t blink. “Stability.” A pause. Then Mrs. Eleanor Black, Andrew’s mother, spoke. Her voice carried something gentler. Not pressure. Something closer to concern. “Andrew,” she said quietly, “no one is asking you to fall in love tomorrow. We are asking you to consider structure. A partnership. Someone who can stand beside you publicly.” Andrew leaned back slightly in his chair. “A partnership,” he repeated. “Or control dressed as concern?” Victor frowned. “Don’t twist this into something emotional.” Andrew’s gaze shifted to him. “I’m not the one turning it emotional.” Silence followed. Helena tried again, more carefully this time. “Just… bring someone. Someone suitable. Someone who won’t complicate things.” Andrew’s tone was almost indifferent. “You mean someone you approve of.” Victor nodded immediately. “Exactly.” Andrew stood slowly. The room tensed instinctively. He adjusted his cufflinks, then looked at each of them once. “Fine,” he said. A beat. “I’ll bring someone.” Mrs. Eleanor’s expression softened slightly. “You will?” Andrew already turned toward the door. “Don’t expect emotion from it.” And then he left. The room didn’t relax after he was gone. It rarely did. --------------------------------------------------------- NAYA ______ Naya stood in front of the mirror again, longer this time. Her reflection looked unfamiliar. Not because she had changed. But because something inside her hadn’t caught up yet. Her phone buzzed again. She already knew what it was before she checked. “Congratulations. You have been selected for the position of junior administrative assistant at Blackridge Holdings.” She read it slowly. Then again. Then her breath finally broke into something lighter. “Oh my God…” She pressed the phone to her chest. “I got it.” For a moment, she just stood there. Smiling. Not loudly. Quietly. Like she was afraid too much happiness would scare it away. She grabbed her bag immediately. “I need to tell Daniel,” she whispered. Because that was the plan. Good news always belonged to two people. At least in her mind. ---------------------------------------------------- ANDREW ___________ The penthouse was silent except for the low hum of the city below. Andrew stood by the glass wall, phone in hand. Behind him, his assistant Miles waited. “Sir,” Miles said carefully, “about the contract arrangement—” “I don’t want a stranger,” Andrew interrupted. Miles hesitated. “Then someone from outside elite circles would be difficult to—” “Inside the company,” Andrew said. Miles blinked. “Sir?” Andrew turned slightly. “I said find someone inside Blackridge Holdings. Someone ordinary. Someone who won’t mistake this for something it isn’t.” Miles paused, then nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.” Andrew looked back at the city. His reflection stared back at him like something detached. “Emotions complicate decisions,” he said quietly, almost to himself. Then added, “I don’t intend to be complicated.” -------------------------------------------------------- NAYA ______ Naya reached Daniel’s apartment later than planned. Traffic. Delays. Nothing unusual. She smiled anyway. She had news. Good news deserved effort. She climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Small things felt meaningful today. She knocked once. No answer. “Daniel?” she called lightly. Silence. She tried the door. It wasn’t fully locked. That was strange. But she didn’t think much of it. Not yet. She pushed it open. “Babe, I have good—” Her voice stopped mid-sentence. The world didn’t immediately make sense. Daniel was there. So was Amanda. Her best friend. Since they were children. Since scraped knees and shared birthdays. Since trust had been automatic, not earned. Amanda turned first. Her expression changed slightly. Not shock. Recognition. “Oh,” she said softly. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet.” That sentence landed wrong. Not because of what it said. But because of what it didn’t. Daniel straightened up slowly, adjusting his shirt like time itself had paused for convenience. “Naya…” Just her name. No follow-up. No panic. No urgency. Amanda sighed, almost tired. “It’s not what it looks like,” she began. Naya blinked slowly. “That’s… interesting,” she said quietly. “Because it looks exactly like what it is.” Daniel frowned slightly. “We didn’t plan for you to walk in like this.” That sentence hit harder than anything else. Not we’re sorry. Not we made a mistake. Just inconvenience. Like she had disrupted a schedule. Naya let out a small laugh. It wasn’t humor. It was disbelief trying to survive. “You didn’t plan for me,” she repeated slowly. Amanda stepped forward a little. “Please don’t make this dramatic.” That line cracked something inside her. Naya looked at her. “Dra...Dramatic?” Amanda sighed again. “We’ve been together for a while. You were just… not noticing.” Silence. Daniel didn’t correct her. That silence answered everything. Naya nodded slowly. Once. Twice. “I see,” she said. Her voice was softer now. Dangerously calm. Then she stepped back. No shouting. No crying. Not yet. Because grief hadn’t fully arrived. It was still processing. She turned and walked out. Her footsteps were steady. Too steady. --------------------------------------------------------- ANDREW _________ That night, Andrew sat in his office reviewing files. Miles placed a tablet in front of him. “These are the internal candidates,” he said. Andrew barely looked at them. Until one name paused his gaze for half a second longer than the rest. Naya. No background prestige. No elite lineage. No corporate legacy. Just… present. He frowned slightly. “She’s ordinary,” Miles said quickly, almost apologetic. “That’s fine,” Andrew replied. He closed the file. “Ordinary is safer.” --------------------------------------------------------- NAYA ______ Naya sat on her bed in silence. Her phone lay beside her. The world continued outside her window like nothing had changed. That was the most offensive part. Everything kept going. Even after her world didn’t. Her phone buzzed again. A message: “Blackridge Holdings onboarding begins tomorrow. 8:00 AM.” She stared at it for a long time. Then whispered: “Blackridge…” She didn’t know the name yet. But she would....too well. Soon. She leaned back slowly. Her voice came out barely above a breath. “Okay.” Not acceptance. Not peace. A decision forming in silence. --------------------------------------------------------