The Contract That Bound Us

Chapter 5: The Call

**Chapter 5: The Call**

I waited until mid-morning before I dialed the care facility.

Maria had already left after cleaning, and the penthouse felt too large again. I sat on the edge of the guest bed, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the soft-held music while my stomach twisted with both guilt and relief.

“Miss Rivera?” a nurse finally answered. “Your mother is having a very good day. She’s been asking for you.”

A moment later, my mother’s voice came through—clearer than it had been in months.

“Elena? Is that really you?”

My eyes burned. “It’s me, Mom. How are you feeling?”

We talked for twenty minutes. She told me about the new private nurse, the better view from her upgraded room, and how the food suddenly tasted “like real food again.” She sounded stronger. Happier. Every sentence made the weight of the contract feel both heavier and more necessary.

When we finally said goodbye, I sat in silence for a long time, staring at the diamond ring I had put back on my finger that morning.

The sound of the elevator broke the quiet.

Adrian stepped into the living room still wearing his suit from the office, but the usual sharp edge in his posture was dulled. He looked tired. When he saw me sitting on the couch, he stopped.

“You spoke to her,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. Thank you… again.”

He gave a short nod and loosened his tie. “There’s been a change in schedule. The private ceremony is being moved up. Two weeks from now instead of three months.”

I stood. “Two weeks?”

“Harlan is pushing. He wants proof the marriage is real before the next board vote.” Adrian’s voice stayed even, but a muscle in his jaw tightened. “We’ll sign the papers, take a few photos, and release a statement. After that, the arrangement continues as planned.”

I crossed my arms. “And I’m just supposed to smile for the camera again?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” He walked past me toward the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “My lawyer will send over the marriage license details tomorrow. You’ll need to provide identification.”

The casual way he said it made something inside me snap.

“Do you ever get tired of ordering people around?” I asked.

Adrian set the glass down slowly and turned. “Excuse me?”

“You decide where I live, what I wear, when I smile, when I get married—and I’m supposed to just nod and say yes. I’m not one of your employees, Adrian.”

His eyes darkened. He crossed the room until he stood only a few feet away. “You signed a contract. That makes you exactly what the contract says you are.”

“And what happens when the six months are over?” My voice rose. “You hand me a check and erase me from your life like I never existed?”

Silence stretched between us, thick and charged.

Adrian’s gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second before he locked it away. “That was always the agreement.”

“Then stop looking at me like that,” I whispered.

He went completely still. “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about breaking your own rules.”

The air between us tightened until it felt hard to breathe. Adrian’s hand lifted slightly, as if he might reach for me, then curled into a fist at his side instead.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” he said, voice low and rough.

“I know enough.”

For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sound was the distant hum of the city below.

Finally, Adrian stepped back, the cold mask sliding into place again. “Be ready at seven tomorrow night. There’s a charity gala. Black tie. The dress will be delivered in the morning.”

He turned and walked toward his study.

At the doorway he paused, keeping his back to me.

“Elena.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t mistake a few necessary kindnesses for something they aren’t. I still don’t have feelings.”

The door closed behind him with a quiet, final click.

I stood alone in the middle of the living room, my heart beating too fast, the taste of almost something lingering in the air.

Two weeks until the ceremony.

Two weeks until the performance became legally binding.

And for the first time since I signed my name, I wasn’t sure which of us was in more danger of forgetting that none of this was supposed to be real.