the contract

6

Mr. Leigh's smirk remained stagnant, his eyes fixed on Stephanie as he asked, "What is your relationship with Magdalene Smith?" His voice was low and even, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.

Stephanie's stutter was almost imperceptible, but her nervousness was palpable. "I am...I am...she was my mother," she stammered, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

Mr. Leigh's legs were crossed, his brow raised in a silent question. "Was?" he repeated, his tone laced with curiosity.

Stephanie's gaze fell to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper. "We have our disagreements." She seemed to shrink into herself, her shoulders hunched in a defensive posture.

Just then, a maid glided into the lobby, her movements silent and efficient. She offered Mr. Leigh a cup of tea, which he accepted with a nod. The lobby fell silent, the only sound the soft clinking of the tea cup as Mr. Leigh stirred its contents. The maid swiftly walked away, leaving the two alone once more.

Mr. Leigh's gaze never wavered from Stephanie's face. "You never went to her for help, did you?" he asked, his voice probing.

Stephanie's answer was barely audible, her eyes still fixed on the floor. "No, I didn't."

Mr. Leigh's expression was inscrutable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he asked, "When am I meeting your lawyer?"

Stephanie's suggestion was hesitant. "If today wouldn't be bad?"

Mr. Leigh's response was noncommittal. "Maybe today if you are less busy."

The conversation seemed to be dismissed, but Mr. Leigh suddenly remembered something. "Your car is outside," he said, his tone casual.

Stephanie's smile was hesitant, her eyes lighting up with surprise. "My car?" she repeated, standing to her feet with a sudden urgency. "I'll just go then," she presumed.

Stephanie stepped out of the house, breathing in the fresh air as she tried to shake off the intensity of her meeting with Mr. Leigh. The memory of their encounter replayed in her mind like a broken record, refusing to be silenced. As she walked towards the parking lot, a male escort guided her through the sea of designer cars, their sleek bodies glinting in the sunlight. Her own car, nestled among the luxury vehicles, seemed to mock her, stirring up a memory she had tried so desperately to forget. The pain and hurt she had thought was long buried came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her. She slid into the driver's seat, her hands trembling as she grasped the wheel, her mind consumed by the ghosts of her past.

Stephanie was a vision in pink, her princess dress fluttering around her like a cloud as she ran down the stairs, her excitement palpable. Her pigtails bounced with each step, and her eyes shone like stars as she squealed "Mommy!" at the top of her lungs. But Magdalene, resplendent in her designer suit and dripping in diamonds, barely broke stride. She glanced at her daughter, her expression a mask of indifference, before answering a call on her phone. "Yes, I'm on my way," she said, her voice crisp and businesslike, as she turned and walked out of the house, leaving Stephanie's outstretched arms to falter in mid-air.

Stephanie's face crumpled, her eyes welling up with tears as she realized she had been dismissed. She dashed her foot against the staircase, the sound echoing through the hallway as she retrieved her steps and ran back to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Mrs. Jenkins tried to console her, but Stephanie was having none of it. "Go away!" she sobbed, her small body shaking with sobs as she buried her face in her pillow; Mrs. Jenkins' gentle knocks and soothing words were met with silence.

Stephanie, a young adult, stood in the lobby, dressed in a pleasing outfit, alongside her male guest, Tony. They awaited Magdalene's arrival, who walked slowly down the staircase, her eyes fixed on the pair. Magdalene's gaze settled on Tony, her expression disgusted. "How can I help you?" she asked, her eyes scanning Tony's appearance, his poor attire a stark contrast to her own designer clothes.

Tony, young and handsome, avoided eye contact with Magdalene, his gaze darting around the room. The silence stretched, until Stephanie broke it, "Mom, this is Tony, I told you about." Magdalene's response was a soft "Ooh," as she stood, her eyes never leaving Tony. "Leave my house!" she ordered, her voice firm, her guards alert and ready to intervene.

Tony stood, "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, before exiting. Stephanie's smile and excitement faded, replaced by tears, which fell maliciously from her eyes as she stared at her mother. "What kind of a mother are you?" she asked softly.

Magdalene's tone was calm and soothing, "Stephanie dear, I'm just protecting you." But Stephanie was having none of it. "You have never been a mother!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "You've always been so caught up in your own world, you never cared about mine!"

Magdalene tried to defend her actions, "Stephanie, I'm just trying to keep you safe." But Stephanie cut her off, "Safe from what? From happiness? From love?" She shook her head, "You don't even know what love is!"

With that, Stephanie turned and left for her room, leaving Magdalene standing alone in the lobby, her expression unreadable.

Stephanie's slender figure descended the stairs, her suitcase trailing behind her like a shadow. Tears streamed down her porcelain face, glistening like diamonds in the morning light. Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, seemed to hold a world of sorrow, her lips trembling with each step.

Magdalene's voice cut through the air like a whip, her words dripping with venom. "Where do you think you're going?" she spat, her eyes flashing with anger. "Because of that peasant boy?" she sneered, her lips curling into a snarl.

Stephanie's expression remained serene, her eyes fixed on some point beyond the door. She moved quietly, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, her suitcase wheels spinning softly on the floor. Magdalene's questions seemed to bounce off her like raindrops on a tin roof, her gaze unwavering.

"The car key!" Magdalene demanded, her voice rising like a crescendo. Stephanie's hand slipped into her handbag, her fingers closing around the key like a vice. She pulled it out, her movements economical, and dropped it onto the table with a soft clink.

"Stephanie, come back here!" Magdalene's voice boomed through the hallway, her guards waiting like sentinels for her direction.

Stephanie's figure seemed to shrink, her shoulders hunching under the weight of Magdalene's words. Yet, she moved forward, her suitcase leading the way, her heart heavy with a sense of resolve. The door seemed to loom before her.

As she reached the door, Stephanie's hand closed around the handle, her fingers tightening like a vice. She pulled it open, and a warm breeze seemed to caress her face, carrying the sweet scent of freedom.

But as she stepped out into the bright sunlight, She stumbled forward, her legs trembling like a newborn fawn. And then, she was back in her present, her mind reeling from the memories of her past, she turned the key and pulled on the engine, leaving the premises.

As the man stepped into Mr. Leigh's opulent foyer, the soft glow of the chandelier above highlighted the sharp creases in his black ironed suit. A sleek suitcase sat beside him, and a warm smile spread across his face as he called out, "Tony!"

Mr. Leigh's voice boomed from the top of the stairs, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "No one calls me that anymore!" He descended the stairs with gentle steps, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

The man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. "Pardon me, Arnold Leigh!" he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

As they laughed together, Mr. Leigh gestured for the man to sit, and they both settled into plush armchairs. A maid glided into the room, a glass of juice balanced on a silver tray, and set it down on the coffee table with a soft clink.

"So, Johnson, how have you been?" Mr. Leigh asked, his smile pleasant and inquiring.

Johnson's expression turned serious, his eyes clouding over. "I am healthy, my friend," he replied, his voice measured.

Mr. Leigh's gaze lingered on Johnson's face, his expression softening. "I see that," he said gently.

But his face quickly turned serious, his eyes narrowing. "How are the meetings?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

Johnson sighed wearily, his shoulders slumping. "They have gotten through with her; we got her signature yesterday."

Mr. Leigh's eyes widened, his face pale. "So you think Magdalene Smith has a hand in this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Johnson's expression turned grim, his lips compressing into a thin line. "Do I think?" he repeated, his voice heavy with disbelief. "That woman gave her daughter for experimentation; she isn't even scared of losing her."

As they spoke, the maid returned with a discreet knock, refilling their glasses with juice and slipping out of the room unnoticed. The men's conversation continued, their voices low and intense.

Johnson's eyes seemed to bore into Arnold's soul, as if searching for something hidden. "Have Ms. Stephanie signed the marriage contract?" he asked, his voice firm.

Arnold's smile faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. "I'll wait for her call," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

Johnson's gaze lingered on Arnold's face, his eyes narrowing. "How long do you plan to keep your real identity from her?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Arnold's expression turned relaxed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "As long as I can," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

Johnson's eyes seemed to flash with warning, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Sooner or later, you'll have to reveal your true self to her, won't you?" he asked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Arnold's smile grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What do you stand to gain from this marriage?" he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

Johnson's expression turned somber, his eyes clouding over. "I am worried for you, my friend," he said, his voice low and even. "You know what you're up against."

Arnold's face lit up, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "What if she gets pregnant?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "That way, they wouldn't risk their bet on a pregnant woman, right?"

Johnson's eyes seemed to widen in shock, his face pale. "What are you up to?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Arnold's smile remained stagnant.