My Revenge, His Contract

Chapter 14 Morning After

I woke the next morning with a dull ache behind my eyes and one heel still half hanging off my foot.

For a moment, I had no idea where I was.

Then I recognised the pale walls of my own bedroom, the soft grey curtains I had ordered two days ago, and the black dress draped over the chair like evidence of another woman’s life.

The gala.

Adrian.

The cameras.

His hand at the small of my back.

My stomach flipped as memory returned in pieces.

After the dance, he had barely spoken during the drive back. Calm as ever, unreadable as ever. The city lights had flashed across the inside of the car while I sat beside him, trying to steady the strange energy still moving through me.

When the driver had stopped outside my building, Adrian had looked at me once.

“Come back with me, Luna. Come too mine."

The words had been simple. Matter-of-fact. As though he already knew the answer.

I had met his gaze and reached for the door handle instead.

"No, I should get back, I have work emails to reply too."

He had watched me for a long second, expression impossible to read.

Then he had nodded once.

No argument. No persuasion. No wounded ego.

Just that same cool control.

Before I stepped out, he had said, “Nine tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

I had wanted to ask nine for what.

But the car door had already opened.

Now, lying in my own bed with yesterday’s mascara faintly smudged beneath my eyes, I wondered why that memory affected me more than the invitation itself.

Because he had expected me to go with him.

And because part of me had wanted to.

I pushed the thought away immediately and sat up. My phone lay on the bedside table, screen black and innocent-looking. I knew better.

The second I picked it up, it exploded with notifications.

Messages. Tags. Unknown numbers. Missed calls. Social media mentions.

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

What the hell?

I opened the first article shared by someone I barely remembered from school.

CEO Adrian Vale Attends Harrington Gala with Mystery Brunette

Underneath was a photograph of me stepping out of the car, my hand in Adrian’s. His face was turned slightly toward me, mine toward the cameras. We looked... polished. Powerful, even. Like we belonged in the same frame.

I barely recognised myself.

Another headline read:

Who Is the Woman Beside Adrian Vale?

I groaned and dropped back against the pillows.

“This is insane.”

My phone buzzed again.

Claire.

Of course it was Claire.

Good morning, Miss Carter. Car will collect you at 8:30. Business attire required. Mr Vale has meetings today. Attached is a suggested schedule.

Attached was a full itinerary.

8:30 pickup.

9:00 arrival at Vale Global Holdings.

9:15 breakfast meeting.

11:00 internal briefing.

1:00 lunch.

3:00 charity press follow-up.

I blinked at it.

Was I dating a man or being onboarded by a corporation?

Another buzz came through immediately after.

Please confirm receipt.

I typed back before I could stop myself.

Does Mr Vale ever breathe naturally or is that scheduled too?

Three dots appeared. Then vanished. Then reappeared.

Finally:

8:30, Miss Carter.

I laughed despite myself.

Then the laughter faded as another name flashed across the screen.

Noel.

Six missed calls. Four messages.

I opened none of them.

Instead, I deleted the notifications and set the phone face down on the bed.

There had been a time when seeing his name would have made my chest tighten. A time when I would have answered on the first ring, desperate to fix whatever was wrong between us.

That woman felt far away this morning.

I got out of bed and padded into the kitchen, still barefoot, still wearing yesterday’s thoughts. My flat was quiet, clean, mine. The kettle clicked on as sunlight spilled across the counters.

I looked around slowly.

The dining chairs I had ordered were due tomorrow. The sofa next week. Boxes still sat unopened in the corner. It wasn’t finished. It wasn’t glamorous. But it was mine.

No lies here.

No betrayal in the next room.

No waiting for someone to choose me properly.

The kettle boiled. I made coffee and stood by the window watching the city below.

How had my life changed so quickly?

A week ago I had been trying to save a dead relationship.

Now I was being collected by a driver to spend the day with one of the most powerful men in the country.

A man who offered contracts instead of promises.

A man who kissed like sin and spoke like a board meeting.

A man who unsettled me in ways I did not fully understand.

I sipped my coffee.

Then my phone rang again.

Unknown number.

I answered carefully. “Hello?”

“Miss Carter.” Adrian’s voice slid down the line, smooth and controlled.

I straightened instinctively. “You know phones can be used for normal conversation too, not just issuing instructions through assistants.”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

The words caught me off guard.

Silence stretched for half a second.

Then he added, “Also, Claire informed me you were being difficult.”

I narrowed my eyes even though he could not see me. “I am not difficult.”

“You refused the stylist. Mocked the schedule. And you did not confirm the car.”

“I was busy waking up.”

“Then wake faster.”

I should have been annoyed.

Instead, heat curled low in my stomach.

“Why am I coming to your office?” I asked.

“Because,” he said calmly, “if the world is going to keep printing your photograph beside mine, then you should understand exactly who you are standing next to.”

My pulse kicked once.

“And if I say no?”

There was a pause.

Then his voice lowered.

“You won’t.”

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone in disbelief.

Arrogant bastard.

And yet, twenty minutes later, I was standing in front of my wardrobe trying to decide what counted as business attire