Chapter 9
A Contract Is Contract
Fiona’s pov-
“No,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I won’t be your secretary.”
Killian raised an eyebrow, faintly amused, as if he had anticipated that response from me.
“That will only make it be like we are one of those couples,” I said quickly, explaining myself. “I can’t grow working under you like that.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Why not? Why would working for me hinder your development?”
I exhaled, having already felt cornered. “Because I’ll be … just sitting at a desk doing absolutely nothing. You won’t really ever give me work, knowing I’m your wife. And everybody else will view me as your woman. I can’t live like that.”
Killian’s eyes darkened, and I caught a glimpse of the edge behind his calm demeanor.
“Sitting around and doing nothing?” he echoed. “Is that what you believe my secretary does in my company?”
I hesitated. I mean I didn’t really know what she did. I just assumed…
“My secretary is responsible for coordinating the schedules of multiple clients, preparing briefs, negotiating minor deals and basically serves as the backbone of my daily operations,” he said flatly. “She does more than most people that I work with.”
“But that’s different,” I said in a low voice. “She’s a stranger. I’m your wife. You wouldn’t-”
“Wouldn’t what?” Killian interjected. “Wouldn’t give you actual work? Would pat you and treat you differently?”
I swallowed, his tone cutting air.
“Yes,” I said simply.
He moved closer, his jaw clenching. “Fiona, do you know why that is in your head? Because you dont believe in yourself. And you underestimate me.”
Before I had time to respond, he continued, “Why would I treat you any differently than anyone in my company? Just because you have a ring on?”
I diverted my gaze, suddenly unsettled.
–
He gave a brief, humorless laugh. “Let me remind you this is a contract marriage. You’re not my real wife. You’re just a name on paper. Someone living in my house. A temporary arrangement.”
What he said cut much deeper than I thought it would. A knot formed in the middle of my chest.
‘So no,” he continued. “I’m not going to pamper you. You’re not special in that regard at work. You’ll be a subordinate beneath me, just like everyone else.”
I couldn’t speak. Even if I had wanted to, I didn’t know what to say.
He gestured towards the door, waving his hand. “You can leave now. Tomorrow, we are going into the office. I’ll have your details and desk set up by my assistant.”
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3:02 pm
Chapter 9
I was standing there, shocked, my feet frozen to the ground. I wanted to argue, to tell him that he didn’t need be so cold, but what good would it do?
I left the room, my back rigid. My brain started going round and round, processing what had just happened.
Back in my room. I gently shut the door behind me – ignoring the urge to slam it.
I didn’t even sit down initially. I stood by the window, looking out at the moonlit street, attempting to ground myself. Was he destined to be this way from the start? Harsh. Distant. Unbending.
It was only a contract marriage. That’s what he’d said. And I had agreed to it.
I should’ve seen this coming.
Yet a part of me wished he hadn’t said it out loud. That he hadn’t played it up like I said nothing.
He’s right, I told myself. I’m not his real wife. I shouldn’t deserve special treatment.
But the way he said it. it hurt.
I let out a sigh and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, cupped palms laced tightly in my lap. Why did I feel so… exposed? So vulnerable?
It was just a job. Just an offer. And I was the one who turned it down first.
But every single day, working in the same office with Killian? I didn’t want that.
It wasn’t just about pride. It was something deeper. Killian was the type of person to fill up a room just by walking in. He could silence a room with a single glance.
And that same aura clung to him today. Strong. Unshakable. Cold.
Being near him was somehow one moment he’s amused, the next he’s charged with a wild energy.
I didn’t want to be around him every day. Not when I wasn’t sure whether I feared him… or wanted him.
I’m not going to lie to myself – Killian scared me a little bit. How he spoke with authority. The way his eyes would bore through people like he already knew their secret.
He was devious. Commanding and impossible to ignore.
I reclined on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “It’s just a contract,” I said under my breath. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Just a contract.
Just an arrangement.
Nothing serious.
I shut my eyes and tried to catch my breath.
Still… I told these words to myself over and over, as if they would shield me.
We have a contract marriage between us. Nothing more.
I suddenly stood up, no longer able to lie still. My skin was filled with irritation; my chest felt filled with something I didn’t
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3:02 pm D
Chapter 9
care to name.
Without thinking, I pulled off my clothes – every piece feeling heavy. When I got to the bathroom, I stripped physically and emotionally.
I on the shower, stepped in and let the water flow and cover my head. It was cold initially but I didn’t flinch. I needed it. I needed to experience something other than his voice ringing in my head.
I put my hands on the tiled wall and leaned toward the flow of water, letting it pool in my hair, my face, everything.
I knew what this was. I knew it from the start. A contract marriage. An agreement. Nothing more.
And yet…
Why did it sting so much?
Perhaps it was how simply he said it. Like I didn’t matter. Like I was so very disposable, like I could be swapped out at any second for someone a little more fitting – for someone a little less hopeful, a little less inconvenient.
I clenched my teeth as I stood to my full height. No, I wasn’t going to weep over this.
It wasn’t love. It was never love. I knew that. I wasn’t stupid.
But if I knew that, then why did it feel like my heart was slowly unraveling in my chest?
I remained beneath the cold water. Still, I didn’t move.
I hoped perhaps the water would wash his voice out of my head, or drown the lump that had just formed in my throat. It didn’t.
Eventually, I turned off the tap and stepped out, dripping and chilled, but strangely calm. I took a towel and dried my hair roughly, allowing the motion to distract me from the uneasiness raging inside my mind.
I wrapped the towel around my body, went back into the bedroom, but something in me didn’t want to get dressed just yet. I let the towel fall to the floor and, walked naked to the mirror by the wardrobe.
–
I wanted to look at my reflection in the mirror. Not just a glance — a proper look.
Water clung to my skin in tiny droplets, my hair clung to my shoulders, and my eyes… they looked tired. Hollow. Like a person who had been keeping too much to themselves for far too long.
I tilted my head and examined my reflection as if I was a stranger to myself.
Who was I?
A fake wife in a big house. A name on a contract. A woman who kept pretending nothing was wrong when everything was.
And then, softly, almost as if in a whisper, “Why do I feel unhappy?”
The words burst out of my mouth before I could prevent them. I said the words through clenched teeth, and they struck me like a punch.
Why did I feel unhappy?
This should have been straightforward. A compromise for the better of both. No strings. No mess.
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Chapter 9
So why did I feel that something in me was breaking?
Was it pride?
I blinked at myself. My own reflection stared back, equally puzzled. Just as lost.
I didn’t have the answer.
AD
