Contracted To The Man I Misunderstood

ELOWEN “Dad, why the hell are they taking pictures of me?” “Keep walking.” “Dad.” “Smile.” “I am smiling.” “You look terrified.” “Thats because I am terrified.” I retorted . Another camera flashed. I instinctively turned my face away. My father tightened his hand around my arm. “Don't.” “Don't what?” “Make a scene.” I stared at him. Obviously pissed, I continued. “I'm not the one who brought half the media in the city to a charity event.” His jaw tightened.knowing him I knew that was answer enough. I looked past him. Reporters crowded the entrance to Aurelia Grand Hotel. Cameras were everywhere. Men in expensive suits spoke into phones while photographers fought for a better angle of me. Me. Not my father. Not Alverelle Fashion House. But Me. Six weeks ago, I had been eating dinner when my father casually announced that I was going to become the next CEO of our family company. Tonight, apparently, I was being presented to the world. Without warning and Without consent. And judging by the number of cameras pointed at me. without mercy too . “You promised me this was private.” “It was supposed to be.” “Then what happened?” My father looked toward the ballroom. “I changed my mind.” “You've got to be kidding me.” “Later, Elowen.” “No. You don't get to say later every time you make a life-changing decision for me.” He stopped.Making me nearly walk into him. His expression had changed.The proud father from five minutes ago was gone. “Listen to me carefully.” I swallowed. “Tonight, you will smile. You will speak to the people I introduce you to. And will _not_ discuss the board's decision with the press.” “Why?” “Because I said so.” There it was. I fumed .The Alexander Alverelle special.End of discussion. I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it as the room doors opened. My mother appeared.Her smile was warm. “It's time.” --- The ballroom fell silent when we entered.Not completely. Just enough for me to notice. Conversations dipped immediately as heads turned in my direction. Whispered filled everywhere as I heard my name being passed from mouth to mouth . A photographer lifted his camera. Flash. Flash. Flash. I smiled until my cheeks hurt.My father leaned toward me. “Breathe.” “I am.” “Not enough.” “I hate you.” He chuckled. “You'll survive.” “I hope you know I'm blaming you for every terrible thing that happens tonight.” “You'll have to get in line.” He squeezed my hand. For one second, he looked like my father again.Not the chairman of a billion-dollar fashion house.Not the man who had just thrown me into the public eye. Just Dad. “I'm proud of you,” he whispered. My anger faltered as his words hit home . “Thank you.” Then he released my arm and disappeared into the crowd. I exhaled. “Congratulations, Miss Alverelle.” A man in his fifties extended his hand. “Thank you.” “Your father has spoken very highly of you.” I smiled. “He has?” “Of course.” Another person interrupted.Then another. CEO.Investor .Designer.Government official. I shook hands until my fingers hurt.Answered questions until my throat was dry. And Smiled until my face felt detached from my body. And through all of it, I could feel my sisters watching me. Emily was especially obvious. She stood across the room with a glass of champagne in her hand, watching every interaction. Eventually, she walked over. “Enjoying yourself?” I looked at her with a slow grin forming on my face “Immensely.” “Good.” She took a sip.“You deserve it.” she said with a cheery smile that made my stomach drop for a moment “Emily.” She leaned closer.“You know what's funny?” “What?” “Dad never told you why you. Didn't he?” she said with a smirk . I stiffened. “Neither did the board. Did they?” shrugging her shoulders she continued . “Oh well” with that she walked away. Watching her leave a cold feeling settled in my stomach Why me? I'd asked my father that question six weeks ago.He hadn't answered. I'd assumed it was because he trusted me. Now I wasn't so sure. --- Two hours later, I escaped. I slipped away while my father was talking to a government official and pushed through a door at the end of the corridor. Cold air hit my face.I stepped outside to the rooftop. “Finally Silence.” I closed my eyes and breathed. Once. Twice. Then I smelled it. smoke. Opening my eyes I nearly stumbled as I saw him. Standing besides the railing Dark hair.Black suit.Cigarette between his fingers. I immediately turned toward the door. “Stay.” I stopped. His voice was deep.Calm.Almost amused. I looked over my shoulder. He turned. And for one stupid second, my brain forgot how to function. He was beautiful.Not handsome.Beautiful.Which was deeply inconvenient. “I didn't realise anyone was here,” I said. “You do now.” I took in the slight hint of arrogance . Giving a slight nod I replied . “I'll leave you to it then.” I reached for the door. “You don't have to.” I looked at him. He took another drag from the cigarette. “If you're here to escape the party, I'm not exactly in the mood to follow you back inside.” “I'm not escaping.” I retorted. His eyebrow lifted. “I just needed air.” “ Ah .Of course.” “What?” “Nothing.” I narrowed my eyes.He smiled. I hated that smile. “You're very annoying.” “And you've known me for approximately thirty seconds.” “Long enough.” He laughed. I looked toward the city.“You smoke a lot?” “Only when people annoy me.” “So I should leave.” “You could.” I waited. He didn't say anything else. I looked at him. He looked at me. “Are you going to?” “No.” “Then I suppose we're both stuck.” I laughed despite myself. He smiled again. I pointed at his cigarette. “That's littering.” He looked at the cigarette between his fingers. Then at me. “You came to a rooftop full of strangers and decided my cigarette was the problem?” “Yes.” “Interesting.” He dropped it and crushed it beneath his shoe. “There.” “Still littering.” “I'll have someone clean it.” “That defeats the point.” “You're very passionate about the environment.” “Someone has to be.” He chuckled. “What are you escaping from?” I looked away. “Nothing.” “That's not true.” “You don't know me.” “No.” He took a step closer. “But I recognise someone who's trying very hard to pretend they're fine.” I frowned. “You always talk like this?” “Only when people are lying to me.” “I don't know you well enough to lie to you.” “Exactly.” There was something about the way he said it. Like he'd noticed something I hadn't. “What do you mean?” He looked toward the ballroom doors. “Your father doesn't usually bring his daughters into rooms like that.” “My father doesn't usually bring us anywhere.” “Exactly.” I turned toward him. “You know my father?” He smiled. “Everyone knows Alexander Alverelle.” “That isn't what I asked.” “No.” He looked at me. “I know him.” “How?” “Business.” “What kind of business?” “The kind people don't discuss at charity events.” I stared at him. He smiled. “Damien.” “What?” “My name.” “Oh.” I hesitated. “Elowen.” “I know.” I froze. “You know my name?” His expression changed. Just slightly. “You've been the subject of half the conversations in that ballroom tonight.” “That doesn't explain how you knew it before I told you.” He said nothing. My stomach tightened. “Who are you?” Before he could answer, the rooftop door opened. My father's voice cut through the silence. “Elowen.” I turned. My father stepped outside. His eyes landed on Damien. The warmth disappeared from his face. “Damien.” Damien smiled. “Alexander.” My father walked toward us. “What are you doing here?” Damien shrugged. “Having a conversation.” “With my daughter?” “With Elowen.” He said smugly My father's jaw tightened. “Elowen, go downstairs.” “No.” His eyes snapped toward me. I folded my arms. “I want to know why you know him.” “Elowen.” “And why he knows my name.” Damien looked almost entertained. My father wasn't. “Go downstairs.” “No.” He stepped closer. “Now.” I had never heard that tone from him before. I didn't move. Damien finally spoke. “Maybe you should tell her.” My father's eyes hardened. “This doesn't concern you.” “It concerns me quite a lot.” “What are you talking about?” I looked between them. Damien's expression was suddenly serious. “Ask your father why he really made you CEO.” Silence. My father stared at him. “Leave.” Damien ignored him. “Ask him why the board rejected Emily.” My breath caught. “How do you know about the board?” He looked at me. “Because I was there.” My father stepped forward. “Damien.” “And ask him,” Damien continued, “why your new position comes with a condition.” I looked at my father. “What condition?” Nothing. “Dad?” He looked away. That was the first time I'd ever seen my father refuse to meet my eyes. My chest tightened. “What condition?” “Go home.” “No.” “Elowen.” “No.” Damien reached inside his jacket.My father moved immediately. “Don't.” Damien stopped. He looked at me. Then at my father. “Give her the contract.” My heart skipped. “What contract?” My father's face went pale. I stared at him. “Dad.” He said nothing. Damien pulled a folded document from his jacket. He held it out to me. I took it. My father's voice was low. “Don't read that.” I looked at him. Then at the document.That was possibly the worst thing he could have said.I unfolded it.The first page was covered in legal language.I scanned it.Then I saw the signatures.Alexander Alverelle.Damien Vale. My eyes moved lower. My name. I stopped breathing. “What is this?” My father stepped toward me. “Give it to me.” “No.” “Elowen.” “No.” I kept reading. My hands started trembling. There were clauses about Alverelle Fashion House. Shares. Control. A six-month period. And something about Damien Vale assuming certain rights if specific conditions weren't met. I looked up. “Why is your name on this?” Damien didn't answer. I looked at my father. “Why is his name on a contract involving me?” My father closed his eyes. “Because it was necessary.” “For what?” Silence. “Dad.” Nothing. I looked back at the contract. Then the final page. My eyes stopped. There was another signature. Mine. I stared at it. “No.” Damien's face changed. I looked at him. “I didn't sign this.” “I know.” “Then why is my signature here?” He stepped closer. “I don't know.” My father looked away. That scared me more than anything. I turned toward him. “Did you forge my signature?” He didn't answer. “Dad?” Still nothing. My voice cracked. “Did you?” He finally looked at me. And the expression on his face told me the truth before he spoke. “I had no choice.” The rooftop seemed to tilt beneath my feet. “What does that mean?” He walked toward me. “Your appointment as CEO was never simply about succession.” My fingers tightened around the contract. “Then what was it about?” He looked at Damien. Damien looked back at him. Neither spoke. I stepped between them. “Tell me.” My father swallowed. “Alverelle is in trouble.” I stared at him. “How much trouble?” He didn't answer. Damien did. “Enough to destroy your family.” My father's eyes flashed. “Damien.” “What?” Damien said quietly. “You wanted her to take over the company without knowing what she was inheriting.” He looked at me. “She deserves to know.” I looked down at the contract again. The words blurred. Then I saw the final clause. I read it once. Then again. My blood went cold. I looked at Damien. “What happens if I fail?” He didn't answer immediately. My father whispered my name. “Don't.” I looked back at the clause. Then at Damien. “Tell me.” His expression was unreadable. “If you fail to meet the terms of the agreement within six months…” He stopped. I waited. “Alverelle Fashion House becomes his.” My eyes widened. “His?” Damien didn't look away. “Yes.” I looked at my father. “You made me CEO…” My voice barely came out. “…because you were trying to save the company.” Neither man spoke. I looked at Damien. “And if I can't?” He stepped closer. Close enough that I could hear his voice without him raising it. “Then you lose Alverelle.” I swallowed. “And what do you get?” His eyes held mine. “Everything.” A beat of silence. Then he added quietly: “Which includes you.” My heart stopped. I looked down at the contract again. There it was. Buried beneath the legal language. A clause I hadn't noticed. A clause that made my hands go cold. In the event of default, Elowen Alverelle will enter into a binding personal agreement with Damien Vale, subject to the terms outlined in Schedule B. I looked up slowly. “What the hell did my father sign me into?” Damien's expression hardened. “That's the question you should have asked six weeks ago.” The rooftop door opened behind us. My mother stood there.She looked at the contract in my hands.Then at Damien.Then at my father. Her face crumpled.“Elowen…” I stared at her. “What?” She covered her mouth.My father looked away. And Damien said the one thing that made everything I'd believed about my family suddenly feel like a lie. “Your father didn't choose you to become CEO.” He looked at the contract. “He chose you because you're the only one who can fulfil the agreement.” I stared at him. “What agreement?” Damien's eyes met mine. “The one your family has been hiding from you since you were a child.”