Love by Contract

Damage Control

Aria’s POV

By the time sunlight slips through the window of the guest bedroom I slept in, the internet was going crazy.

My phone won’t stop vibrating.

I watched it from the bed, expecting it to stop, I was too lazy to reach for it.

One notification becomes five.

I finally decided to pick up the phone and look at it, I was shocked. There were missed calls, texts, mentions, tags. Numbers I don’t recognize.

I unlocked with shaking fingers.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Is it true you’re engaged to Sean Hunter???

My brows furrowed and I made the mistake of opening social media.

Instant regret.

It’s everywhere.

Photos from the gala.

Sean’s hand at my waist. His mouth near my temple. The way my body leaned into his, unconsciously. Enzo’s face frozen in shock. He looked pale. Monica’s shock was written on her face.

“Who even took this photo?” I whispered to myself.

The headlines are worse.

TECH TYCOON SEAN HUNTER DEBUTS MYSTERY FIANCÉE AT SHIMMERING PLAZA GALA.

I scroll.

WHO IS ARIA ROMANO—AND HOW DID SHE STEAL NEW YORK’S MOST ELIGIBLE BILLIONAIRE?

I laughed, not believing my eyes.

Steal?

Another headline loads.

EXCLUSIVE: INSIDE THE HUNTER–ROMANO ENGAGEMENT—A LOVE STORY YEARS IN THE MAKING?

I drop the phone onto the mattress like it’s burned me and press my palms into my eyes. My head throbs. My chest feels too tight.

Twelve hours ago, I was just another woman humiliated and cheated on by her boyfriend.

Now I’m a headline.

Then, I heard a soft knock on my door.

I freeze.

Another knock follows, it was firmer this time.

“Aria.”

Sean’s soft, calm voice rang out.

“I’m coming,” I say, hating the way my voice wavers.

I opened the door, and Sean Hunter stood there in a tailored charcoal suit and crisp white shirt. He had no tie on. His dark hair is still damp, like he showered not long ago.

“Good morning,” he says.

I blink. “Is it?”

His mouth twitches. And then he shrugs.

He steps inside without waiting for permission.

Of course he does.

I fold my arms. “You didn’t mention the part where I wake up famous.”

“You’re not famous,” he replies easily. “You’re just on the headline.”

I blinked at him. “What does that even mean?”

He smiled a little, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“I prefer tea.”

“We can work that out,” he replied.

“Sit down,” he adds, gesturing toward the chair in the room.

He is always asking me to sit, I thought with annoyance as I followed him reluctantly, perching on the edge of the couch.

Sean remains standing, of course he does. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back.

“There’s been a media response,” he says. “My team is handling it.”

“Your team?” I echo.

As if summoned, a man appears from the hallway.

“Morning,” he says brightly. “You must be Aria.”

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp blue eyes.

“Aria, this is Alex Patrov,” Sean says. “My assistant.”

“And emotional support person,” Alex adds. “When Sean’s being unbearable.”

I giggled a little.

Sean shoots him a warning glare. “Focus.”

Alex grins and pulls out a tablet.

“So the overnight narrative is surprisingly favorable. An unknown girl becomes a billionaire fiancée. We can use that to our advantage.”

“And yes,” he continued, “your sister is trying to ruin that by saying you’re a cheater. She said you cheated on your boyfriend to be with Mr Hunter and you’re a gold digger.”

My chest tightens. “Monica?”

“Yes. She tried but it didn’t stick. We have taken everything down.”

“And Enzo?” I ask quietly.

Sean answers without hesitation. “Nothing from him yet.”

Alex glances between us. “I’ll give you two some space.”

The room fell in silence again.

Sean finally sits across from me, his posture relaxed but his eyes say otherwise.

“We need to finalize the contract today,” he says.

“Already?” I ask.

“The longer we wait, the more unstable this appears to my grandfather,” he replies. “Stability is what I’m after.”

“And what does that stability cost me?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just your cooperation.”

I huff a laugh. “You mean my life.”

“No,” he says firmly. “Your image and everything remains intact.”

“Funny,” I say. “Because I don’t feel like my image is what it was.”

Something flickers in his expression.

“You can still walk away, Aria,” he says. “Right now.”

I met his gaze. “And be ripped apart by the tabloids and gossip blogs?”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“You said it yourself,” I counter. “They’d eat me alive.”

A pause.

“That’s true,” he admits.

He slides his phone across to me.

“Terms,” he says. “Your lawyer can revise anything.”

I picked it up.

The clauses were staggering. Protections layered on protections. Financial security. Confidentiality. Exit clauses.

Then my eyes catch on one line, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Mutual consent required for physical intimacy.”

I look up. “You really don’t leave things to chance, do you?”

“I don’t like uncertainties,” he says.

“And what am I?” I ask quietly.

He looks at me as if he considers me carefully.

“An ally,” he says. “If you choose to be.”

I think of Monica’s triumphant smile. Enzo’s cowardly silence. My father’s indifference.

I dropped the phone and passed it back to him.

“Fine,” I say. “But I have conditions.”

His brow lifts slightly. “I’m listening.”