My Revenge, His Contract

Chapter 7 The Terms

I did not sign it straight away.

The pen rested between my fingers, hovering just above the paper, but I didn’t move. The contract sat open in front of me, clean and structured, every line precise.

I lowered the pen slowly and looked up at him. He had not moved. Standing across from me, watching—not impatient, not expectant. Just… waiting. It was as if he already knew that I would not rush to sign it.

“You’re very confident,” I said out loud before I could stop myself.

“I don’t make senseless offers, Luna.”

“To you,” I corrected him under my breath.

A faint shift in his expression. Not irritation, but more interest.

"Read it."

“I am reading it properly.” I rolled my eyes and scowled.

“No,” he replied calmly. “You’re reacting to it.” That irritated me more than it should have.

I looked back down at the page, the words stared right back at me.

One-year arrangement.

A year.

Not a week. Not a month.

A year of this.

A year of him.

A year of something that wasn’t quite real… but wasn’t fake either.

I swallowed slightly.

“You don’t do things halfway, do you?” I said, shaking my head.

“No.” A faint smile of amusement crossed his lips.

Of course not.

I flipped the page.

Financial compensation — £1,000,000 over twelve months.

My fingers stilled.

That number shouldn’t have affected me, but it did. I gritted my teeth and looked up at this man who I had allowed to bring me back to his home, that I had willingly slept with.

“You think I can be bought?”

“No,” he said.

I looked up sharply.

“Then what is this?”

“Security,” he replied. “Not leverage.”

I held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.

I wasn’t sure if I believed him.

I looked back down.

Accommodation available upon request.

Access to transport.

Events. Lifestyle inclusion.

It was all there.

Everything someone could want, need, a whole life of security and no money worries. I bit my lower lip and let my mind wander to what could be.

I could move away in a year. Move to a place nobody knew me, away from Noel and Mira, a fresh start. A brand new life for me.

No obligation to attend any meeting or engagement without consent.

That made me pause for a moment. I reread it a few times. Slower, then pointed at that sentence. “That means I can say no.”

“Yes.”

I glanced up at him, narrowing my eyes slightly. “And you won’t have a problem with that?”

“If I did,” he said calmly, “it wouldn’t be in the contract.”

That… was fair.

Annoyingly fair.

Non-exclusivity unless otherwise agreed.

I huffed a small breath. “Of course.”

His gaze flickered slightly as if he had read my mind. “You expected otherwise?”

“No,” I said. “I expected control.”

“That is control,” he replied.

I looked up. “That’s freedom.”

“That’s structure,” he corrected. I held his gaze for a moment and realised that we were saying the same things, just differently.

I nodded and looked back down again. No emotional expectations.

There it was.

The line.

The one he cared about.

The one he had built this entire thing around.

I stared at it for longer than I should have.

“No emotional expectations,” I repeated quietly.

“Yes.”

“That’s not realistic.”

“It’s necessary.”

I closed the folder slightly, my fingers pressing into the edge.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I do,” he said calmly. “If I’m the one making the offer.”

That should have annoyed me, but instead… it made something sharper rise in my chest.

I stepped closer to him, the contract still in my hand. “You think this works without emotion?” I asked.

“I think it works because of the absence of it.”

“That’s not how people work.”

“That’s how this works.”

I searched his face for something—anything—that suggested he didn’t fully believe what he was saying.

But Adrian didn’t look uncertain.

He looked decisive.

And that…

That was the problem.

I flipped the page again.

Termination — either party may walk away at any time. No consequences.

My breath slowed.

This one mattered.

More than the money.

More than the rules.

Freedom.

Real freedom.

I looked up at him again.

“You’d really let me walk away?”

“Yes.”

“No arguments?”

“No.”

“No conditions?”

“No.”

I studied him carefully.

“And you’d be fine with that?”

A pause.

Then—

“Yes.”

I didn’t believe him.

Not completely.

But I believed that he believed it.

And that was enough.

I looked back down at the contract one last time, at everything it offered and removed.

I closed the folder slowly, deliberately, my fingers lingering on the edge as I gathered my thoughts.

“This only works,” I said, lifting my eyes back to his, “if I change something.”

His attention sharpened immediately, his focus narrowing in a way that made it clear I now had his full interest.

“What would you change?” he asked.

“I want honesty.”

Another pause came, longer this time.

Then, without hesitation, he said, “Agreed. So are you happy to sign this contract and agree with the terms, Miss Luna?”

Just like that, no argument, no negotiation. No attempt to regain control of the terms.

I opened the folder again, picked up the pen, and scribbled my signature before closing it and pushing it back towards him.

“Well,” I said quietly, “it looks like we have a deal, doesn’t it?”

Adrian did not answer straight away.

His gaze dropped briefly to the contract as he reached for it, his fingers brushing against the edge before lifting it from the counter. The movement was calm, precise—like everything else about him—but there was something different now.

Something final.

He opened it again, his eyes scanning over my signature as if confirming it was real.

As if confirming it was.

Then he closed it. “Yes,” he said at last. “We do.”