"Two words I never imagined would have anything to do with me."
— Ava Morales
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Ava's Point of View
It was hotter today than most days, so I found it strange when the stranger ordered a hot chocolate instead of something cold and refreshing. Maybe he just had a sweet tooth.
We were sitting across from each other in one of the cafés where I worked part-time. He placed a brown envelope on the table beside my drink and gestured for me to take a look.
What kind of contract could this possibly be?
I stopped stirring my strawberry milkshake; which didn't need stirring at all, except to distract me from my growing anxiety, and slowly picked up the envelope. Carefully, I ripped it open.
Was he trying to buy my silence or something?
I pulled the document halfway out, but froze. My eyes snapped up to his.
"But… how do you even know my name?" I asked sharply.
He choked on his hot chocolate.
He coughed several times, clearly not expecting that question.
"I mean," I continued, "the accident yesterday was the first time you met me. And I didn't have any identification, my bag was snatched. So how is it possible that you not only know my name but also my address? That doesn't make sense."
I rambled, while he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Honestly, if this wasn't so awkward, I might've admitted he looked kind of cute when flustered.
"When we couldn't find you in the hospital, we went back to the location of the accident and asked around," he explained.
I frowned. "But why? Why go that far to find me?"
"It wasn't a hit-and-run. We wanted...."
"You keep saying 'we'," I cut him off. "Who exactly is 'we'?"
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly out of patience. "Miss Ava, if you just go through the contract, you'll find answers to most of your questions, if not all."
He wasn't wrong. Opening the contract didn't mean I had to agree to anything.
I pulled the papers fully out, and the words at the top written in bold letters hit me like ice water.
---
Dylan's Point of View
"So, you're saying she flipped at the contract?" I asked Ian, who sat across from me.
Andre chuckled. "She threw it in my face," Ian admitted with a grimace. "Honestly, I was thankful she didn't throw her drink, too. For a second, I thought she would."
Andre burst into laughter, enjoying the image far too much. "And you expected her to 'what,' cry tears of joy and sign on the spot?" he teased dramatically.
I ignored him, staring out the window. "Well, no… but still. It's in her favor, too."
"Technically, she didn't even read the contract," Ian added carefully, his expression somewhere between apologetic and smug.
"What?!" Andre and I exclaimed in unison.
"She saw the words 'Contract Marriage' and flipped out before reading further," Ian said flatly.
Andre laughed harder. I wasn't as amused.
"Maybe I should've met her myself," I muttered, mostly to myself.
Big mistake.
"Ah, so now you think you're charming enough to pull this off?" Andre smirked. "Just because Ian and I put up with you doesn't mean everyone else will."
"Shut up," I muttered, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.
"Where are you off to?" Andre called.
"None of your business."
I left them laughing behind me. Andre had probably made another joke at my expense, but I couldn't care less right now. I had bigger things to worry about; the shareholders' meeting in three weeks, my father's will, and the quiet, calculated movements of his mistress.
I stepped into the elevator, my mind running through everything, until a voice pulled me back.
"You know you haven't pressed your floor number yet."
I turned.
And froze.
It was a voice I never expected to hear again.
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