Chapter 7. Additional Contract

“Wake up.”

Lyra felt her blanket being yanked away. Through the haze of sleep, she heard the rasp of curtains being pulled aside, then light sliced into her eyes.

“What the hell…” she muttered, still half-asleep.

“An additional contract, Miss. It must be read before breakfast.”

Lyra opened her eyes. A middle-aged maid stood at the foot of the bed, holding a black folder as thick as a palm.

Lyra sat up immediately.

“An additional contract? I just signed one last night.”

“It’s from Mr. Alberto.” The maid’s voice was flat. “He calls it a lifestyle alignment.”

Lyra let out a harsh laugh. “Alignment? You mean oppression, right?”

The maid didn’t react. She placed the folder on the nightstand and waited for Lyra’s response.

“Sir is waiting at the dining table. Fifteen minutes.”

She bowed and left without a sound. Lyra stared at the folder, her stomach suddenly churning. She opened the first page with trembling hands.

Her eyes widened at once, shock flashing across her face as she read.

Safety clause.

Reputation clause.

Social interaction clause.

“Insane,” she whispered. “Absolutely insane.”

---

Lyra showered as quickly as possible. In the wardrobe, an ivory silk dress was already hanging. She didn’t remember ever owning it. Kenzo must have instructed the staff to prepare it.

In the dining room, the scent of coffee and butter greeted her. Kenzo sat at the end of the long wooden table, white shirt sleeves rolled up. His eyes were on a tablet displaying a glaring red graph.

Lyra threw the folder down in front of her plate, starting her protest from the moment the oppression began.

“What is this?”

Kenzo wasn’t surprised. His gaze slowly lifted from the tablet to her face. “Your breakfast will get cold,” he said, ignoring her question.

“I don’t care. Fifty pages, Kenzo? Seriously?”

“Fifty-three,” Kenzo corrected, switching off the tablet. “The situation has changed. Our contract needs to adjust.”

Lyra dragged her chair back loudly on purpose, staring at the cold man in front of her. “This isn’t a contract. It’s prison rules.”

“Read page forty-five.”

“Don’t order me around like a dog.”

“Just read it.”

Lyra flipped to the page with a sharp motion. Her eyes caught a line, and she read it aloud, her voice rising with every word.

“The second party is prohibited from engaging in face-to-face interaction with the opposite sex without written approval from the first party.” She stared at Kenzo in disbelief. “Are you serious? I have male friends at campus. Alvin, Daniel, Samuel, even my academic advisor.”

“Not anymore.”

“What?”

“Your status is different now.”

Kenzo calmly cut into his toast. “One photo of you with another man, and the credibility of our alliance is destroyed. That’s all.”

“Credibility? This is my life, Kenzo!”

“In my business, a partner who can’t be controlled is a liability.”

Lyra fell silent. The word liability landed like a slap.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her tone. “I’m still going to college. I have a seminar next week…”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What?”

“Not anywhere.” Kenzo said it word by word. “Not until the situation with Hans settles down.”

“Hans is already finished. You were the one who…”

“A man who has lost everything is the most dangerous kind.”

Kenzo set his fork down with a sharp clink. “Hans knows your routine. Knows your parking spot. Knows your car.”

“I can ask my father for security. I don’t need to worry.”

“Your father’s security isn’t enough.”

Lyra froze.

Kenzo leaned forward, closing the distance between them to barely half a meter. Lyra could smell coffee on his breath.

“You stay here,” he said quietly. “Your professors will send materials through my system. No going out. No protests. Understood?”

Lyra bit her lower lip until it hurt. “You’re locking me up.”

“I’m protecting my investment.”

“I think it’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

Lyra looked away. Her eyes burned. She hated that Kenzo could see her like this.

“There’s one more point,” Kenzo said. “Last page.”

Reluctantly, Lyra flipped to it. She read, then snapped the folder shut.

“The second party is required to wear a symbolic jewelry set at all times.” She looked up. “Symbolic? You mean a marker necklace, right? So everyone knows I belong to you?”

Kenzo didn’t answer. He pulled a small red velvet box from his shirt pocket and opened it.

A diamond necklace with a deep blue sapphire. Lyra recognized the color. The color of his company’s logo.

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s not a choice.”

“Kenzo.”

“This necklace has an emergency transmitter.” His voice was flat again. “If something happens, I’ll know where you are.”

“Or you’ll know where I am at all times,” Lyra cut in, irritated.

“Yes. That too.”

Lyra stared at the sapphire, its cold gleam suddenly reminding her of a neighbor’s dog collar from years ago. A name tag had hung from it.

“I’ll put it on myself.”

“No.”

Kenzo stood. He walked around the table. Lyra stiffened as she felt him behind her. His hand touched her neck, cold against her skin.

Lyra bit her lip as she heard the soft click of the clasp locking into place.

“Beautiful.” Kenzo’s breath brushed her ear. “The color matches your eyes right now. Full of anger.”

Lyra didn’t move, letting him briefly brush her shoulder before he stepped away.

Kenzo returned to his seat, picked something up from beside his tablet, a slim silver phone, and placed it in the center of the table.

“Your new phone. I destroyed the old one.”

Lyra jerked. “What? You destroyed it?”

“All the data is secure on my server.”

“There were photos of my mother on it!”

“They’re safe,” Kenzo repeated. “Your number is active. Only one contact saved.”

Lyra grabbed the phone and opened the contact list. One name.

Kenzo Alberto.

“My father? My best friend’s number?”

“None.”

“Are you insane? I need to…”

“You need to talk to me. From now on, that’s all,” Kenzo cut in sharply.

Lyra gripped the phone tightly, wanting to throw it at his face. But her hand felt weak. All these rules were suffocating her.

Kenzo picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. “Rest. The staff will give you your daily schedule at ten.” He walked away.

Lyra heard his footsteps echo. She sat still at the long table. The dining room felt too large, the ceiling too high, making her feel like an ant in the middle of a stadium.

Her hand rose to her neck. The sapphire was still cold, and she could feel her pulse beating beneath it. As if the stone was counting every heartbeat.

The phone in her hand vibrated.

Lyra looked at the screen. A notification. An unknown number.

She opened the message.

“Don’t trust your protector. He isn’t saving you. He’s just moving you into a deeper cage.”

Lyra inhaled sharply, then glanced around. A CCTV camera in the corner of the ceiling stared back at her with its black lens.

She looked back at the screen. The message was gone. Empty. As if it had never existed.

“God…” she muttered, rubbing her face roughly.

She opened the contact list again. Only one name. She couldn’t call her father, couldn’t reach anyone. The frustration clawed at her.

The phone vibrated again. Lyra stared at the screen, her heart pounding.

No new message. Just a full battery notification.

She pressed the phone against her chest. Cold. As cold as the sapphire at her throat.

Lyra looked at the large window in front of her. The city below was busy. Tiny cars moved like ants. She caught her reflection in the glass.

A girl wearing an expensive necklace. Puffy eyes. Pale lips.

“Who are you really, Kenzo?”

No one answered. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall, like a countdown to her freedom.

Lyra clenched her fists. She hated this feeling. Hated being afraid. Hated not knowing what to do. But one thing she knew, someone out there had sent that message. Someone who knew she was here. And that person wanted her to doubt Kenzo.

“Was it a warning? Or a trap?”

Lyra didn’t know. What she did know was that the sapphire around her neck wasn’t just transmitting her location. She was sure of it.

Someone was watching. And maybe, it wasn’t just Kenzo.