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Chapter 2 The Contract

Word Count: 1211    |    Released on: 17/05/2025

isbelief as she stood in the marbled silence of Weston Clay's penthouse offi

suit that sharpened his already devastating edges. The skyline of St. Louis burned beh

ugarcoating, no preamble. Ma

the silence, absurd in their el

aped knees and muddy boots who used to race Weston down the orchard path at Marlowe Estate. No, this Georgia wore the armor of a woman w

hissed. "You think a piece of

t fixing anythin

h. Business. Was that w

t the skyline that used to thrill her. Now, it felt

picked up a slim folder. He sl

under unpaid taxes, your mother is three months behind on medication, and i

move. Did

now, "And becau

lause dictated her life for the next year: public appearances, shared residences, behavior guidelines, a

Emotional neutrality? You mean I

id, you would've walked out of that d

d up at h

m still deciding whether to slap

ire behind the wor

come to you out of guilt or pity. I came because this

she echoed.

al-free image. And nothing looks cleaner

your tro

r said no to me. That alone

r pause. And

nd that wasn't empty, but

thought of the orchard, abandoned and dying, the smell of apples and dust and broken dreams. She though

clauses," she

sed a brow

a tower. Two: I handle my estate, not your lawyers. Three: I w

behind his eyes. Not

closer t

pen, uncapped it, a

t, Georgia. Sav

hovered ov

ss. This was war dressed in Armani, and

Slowly. De

p at him and said, "You play by my rules now, Weston.

ely dried when

walked through its echoing halls the next morning like a prisoner in velvet chains. Staff greeted her with

eston waiting. Coffee poured. Pa

a tabloid headline: Tycoon Rekindles Flame

thinly. "So

press is ea

up and took a sip. Bi

oying this,

Eyes pale, unreadab

t used to b

e. "You still don't get it, do you? You may hav

here was a barely concealed edge in his stance

nd this into your lit

think.

r tigh

d close,

me, Georgia. Tha

fr

s a w

nfes

hre

s phone buzzed. He looked at

go. Board

idn't

down the mansio

n he wa

e in a house f

in a penthouse suite at The Fairmore Hotel, wrapped in luxury and scrutiny. The lobby buzz

k robe, staring at the lights below. Her fingers toy

ame th

om the

her p

gle m

Or bleed lik

st

g. An image

ot of the Ma

ano

her stepping out of t

pped th

th came

er, the doo

peered through

dy t

llway was empty except for a

uquet of blo

single

devours ou

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