Page 57 of His By Contract
The laptop clicked shut with finality, the sound echoing through the room as she dropped it to the floor. Bitterness settled intoher bones like frost, weighing her down until she could barely move. Everything she’d built, every achievement she’d earned, now lay tainted by these accusations. Her identity felt rewritten, twisted into something unrecognizable.
Georgia pulled her knees tight against her chest, staring at the laptop’s dark surface. The ache in her chest spread like ice, making each breath harder than the last. Adrian would return soon. The thought of facing him made her stomach clench, not just dreading his words, but the look in his eyes when he saw her. Would he believe these lies? Would doubt creep into his mind, tainting the fragile connection they’d just begun to discover?
Georgia leaned against the penthouse balcony railing, the metal biting cold into her arms. Below, the city pulsed with its usual frenetic energy, cars threading through streets like blood through veins. Wind caught her hair, sending strands dancing across her vision, obscuring the glittering expanse that stretched toward the horizon.
From this height, everything looked impossibly small. People reduced to dots, buildings to mere shapes, problems to specks of dust. But the distance didn’t diminish the weight crushing her chest. If anything, it amplified the sensation of floating untethered, watching her life spiral beyond her reach.
Her fingers curled around the railing until her knuckles blanched white. Each breath felt shallow, inadequate against the pressure building inside her ribcage. The brands she’d courted were falling away like autumn leaves, their carefully wordedrejections piling up in her inbox. Every notification brought fresh accusations, each one cutting deeper than the last.
It was like that day she’d stood in her tiny studio apartment, surrounded by unpaid bills and unfinished designs, watching her initial business venture crumble. The same helplessness flooded back, that terrible certainty that no amount of work or talent could save what she’d built, like it was inevitable, no matter how hard she tried. Her throat constricted around the familiar ache, an old wound torn fresh.
Another gust of wind whipped around her, colder now, but Georgia barely registered the chill. The emptiness inside eclipsed everything physical, a void where her certainty used to live. She felt transparent, insubstantial, as if the person she’d worked so hard to become had been replaced by this twisted reflection everyone now believed in.
Footsteps echoed across the floors from inside. Georgia’s shoulders tensed at the familiar cadence, Adrian’s measured stride, the quiet confidence that filled any space he occupied. Her fingers curled around the railing until her knuckles went white, as if the metal could shield her from the weight of him drawing near.
A chill crept up her spine, settling between her shoulder blades. The question she’d been avoiding surfaced, impossible to ignore. What if she’d finally become more liability than asset? The careful calculation that had drawn Adrian to her in the first place now worked against her. Her stomach twisted as she imagined him weighing the cost of keeping her against the damage to his empire.
Her lungs refused to expand fully, each breath catching painfully in her chest. The thought of being cut loose, left to weatherthis storm alone, made her dizzy. She’d survived before, fought her way up from nothing, but this was different. The magnitude of what she faced now dwarfed anything in her past. Her carefully constructed strength felt paper-thin, ready to tear at the slightest pressure.
She turned from the balcony, drawn inside despite her fear. The penthouse stretched before her, all sharp angles and shadows. She needed to see him, to read in his expression what these accusations meant for their future.
The hallway to his office seemed longer than usual, every step dragging behind it a freight of dread. Adrian’s voice drifted through the gap in the door, that controlled tone he used for business, for problems that needed solving. Georgia’s hand lifted to push the door open, then froze as words filtered through.
“The divorce papers need to be ironclad.” Adrian’s voice was cold. “When the contract ends, I want this wrapped up cleanly. No loose ends.”
Georgia’s blood turned to ice in her veins. The voice on the phone was muffled, but Adrian’s words had struck true and deep. Her lungs seized, the air turning thick and unbreathable. Adrian’s words echoed in her skull, each syllable a fresh wound. Divorce papers. Contract ends. The clinical detachment in his voice carved through her chest, hollowing her out from the inside.
Her fingers pressed against the wall, seeking stability as the floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. The wood grain blurred, her vision swimming. She’d known from the start this was a business arrangement, but somewhere along the way, she’d let herself forget. Let herself believe the moments of tenderness meant something more.
Blood rushed in her ears, nearly drowning out the continued murmur of his voice from his office. She caught fragments: ‘settlement terms’ and ‘media strategy,’ each phrase another nail in the coffin of her delusions. Her throat closed around a sound she refused to let escape.
One step backward. Then another. Her body moved on autopilot, retreating from the truth she couldn’t un-hear. The hallway stretched endless before her, each footfall carefully placed to maintain silence. Her hands trembled, and she pressed them flat against her thighs, forcing control into muscles that wanted to shake apart.
The door to her bedroom appeared like a mirage. She slipped inside, closing it with excruciating slowness until the latch caught. Only then did her composure crack. The truth crashed over her in waves. She was disposable, replaceable, temporary. Just another asset in Adrian’s portfolio, to be managed and eventually liquidated when the timing was right.
Georgia sank onto the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping beneath her weight. Her gaze fixed on the empty space beside her, the pristine sheets stretched tight and unwrinkled. The silence pressed against her eardrums, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning.
Of course it wasn’t real. The thought crystallized, sharp and clean as broken glass. She’d been convenient, a solution to his family’s pressure, a shield against Celeste Montgomery, a calculated move in his endless game of strategy. Her fingers traced patterns on the duvet, following the subtle geometric design woven into the fabric.
Every memory shifted, realigning itself with this new truth. The way his hand had lingered at the small of her back during galas.How his eyes had softened when she’d fallen asleep in his study, head pillowed on her sketches. The quiet mornings when she’d caught him watching her over the rim of his coffee cup. Each moment she’d treasured now felt hollow, stripped of meaning.
She was his weakness; that much was clear. Every attack against him came through her. First Vaughn, now this scandal. She had become the fault line in his carefully built fortress. Her shoulders curved inward as the weight of it settled over her.
Georgia rose, unable to stay still. Her feet carried her back and forth across the polished floor. The room suddenly felt foreign, like a hotel suite she’d mistaken for home. She’d never truly belonged here, in this world of marble and glass, of power plays and calculated moves. She’d been playing dress-up, pretending she could adapt to his realm of sharp edges and colder truths.
If leaving would protect him, if stepping away meant preserving everything he’d built… Her throat tightened around the thought. She couldn’t let herself hope he might feel something real, something beyond the terms of their contract. Hope was a luxury she couldn’t afford, not when his empire hung in the balance.
The truth of her own feelings pressed against her ribcage, threatening to spill over. She loved him. The realization wasn’t new, but acknowledging it now felt like swallowing broken glass. Georgia pressed her palm flat against her sternum, willing the pressure to ease. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t afford that weakness, not when she needed every ounce of strength to walk away.
Georgia’s fingers tightened on the doorknob to Adrian’s bedroom, her heart thundering against her ribs. The metal felt ice-cold against her palm, or maybe that was just the chill spreading through her body. Memories flooded her mind. His hands on her skin, his breath against her neck, the way he’d made her feel owned, cherished, real.
She pushed the door open. Shadows stretched across the floor, broken only by the city lights filtering through the windows. The bed loomed to her right, sheets pulled tight with military precision.
Adrian stood at the window, a dark silhouette against the glittering skyline. His shoulders held that familiar tension, the kind that spoke of deals and threats and power plays she’d never fully understand. He didn’t turn at her entrance.
Georgia’s feet carried her forward before she could stop herself. The carpet muffled her steps, but she knew he heard her approach. He always did. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the whisper of her clothes, the soft sound of her breathing.
The space between them shrank with each step. The familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around her, making her heart clench. She stopped just behind him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, but not quite touching.
