12~The Slave Contract[1]

[Emily]

The morning feels wrong the moment I wake up. There’s that quiet before the storm kind of stillness, the kind that presses on your chest and tells you something’s about to go very wrong. I don’t know if it’s instinct or paranoia. Maybe it’s both.

I dropped Hayden off at school as usual.

“Mommy, when I get home today, can we get ice cream?”

“Only when you finish your homework first,” I say, smiling slightly despite the turmoil in my heart.

He grins up at me, gap-toothed. “Deal.”

I kiss his forehead, breathe him in, and tell myself to be brave.

The bus ride to LensCorp feels longer than usual, every stop dragging out like time’s mocking me. The buildings look the same, the same busy streets, the same noise from honking cars, but everything feels different now. Maybe because I know he’s here, breathing the same air as me.

When I reached the building, I almost turned back. My reflection in the glass doors looks pale with dark circles beneath my eyes. I hadn’t slept a wink last night. I wished I didn’t have to come back here, but I couldn’t leave without telling Tasha.

“Just do it,” I whispered under my breath, pushing through the doors. I enter the elevator and press the 14th floor. My heart beats out of rhythm the entire way.

I’ve rehearsed what I’ll say to Tasha a hundred times. Thank her for everything, explain that it’s personal, that I need to move on, that it has nothing to do with the merger. Hand in the letter and leave. It sounds as simple as that.

Except nothing in my life has ever been simple.

When the elevator doors slide open, the first thing I notice is that the secretary’s desk outside Tasha’s office is empty. The second thing is that the door is slightly ajar.

I take a deep breath and knock regardless.

“Come in,” a voice calls.

My blood runs cold.

That voice. Is it him? Is he in there with her?

For one second, I froze. Then the door fully opens, and he’s standing there, brows furrowed, in a white shirt and dark blue pants.

“Ms Matthews,” he says smoothly. “Good morning.”

My throat goes dry. “Morning, Mr Lockwood,” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.

He gestures to the chair opposite the desk. “Please, come in.”

“No… I’m sorry, I thought Ms Grayson was—”

“She’s at a board meeting downtown,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “I’ll be using her office for a few weeks while the merger is finalised.”

Of course, he would be here! Of all the time, of all the places, it had to be here, right at that moment!

“I’ll come back later,” I say quickly, clutching the envelope in my hand like a lifeline.

As though today was only filled with bad luck, he noticed it. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” I lied, and tried to retreat.

He extends a hand. “May I?”

“It’s just paperwork. I have to go.” I turn to leave, and he holds my hand, snatching the envelope from within my grasp.

The action causes me to flinch, and I stand frozen for a few minutes. He retreats to the office, and I nervously follow him as he sits at Ms Tasha’s desk.

He opens the envelope, pulling out the letter, and I watch his expression change from amused to confused as he reads its contents.

“You’re resigning.” It’s not a question, more like a statement.

“Yes, I am,” I whispered quickly. “Effective immediately.”

His eyes scan the letter again, like it might explain itself better the second time. Then he looks up, “Why?”

“I…” My mind scrambles for something that didn’t sound insane. I want to leave because I watched you murder someone in cold blood. Because you’re the father of my son. Because I can't stand to be in your presence. “Personal reasons.” I opt for it instead.

“Personal reasons?” he repeats, as the words themselves offend him.

“Yes.”

He sets the letter down slowly, tapping it once with his fingers. He gives me a cunning smile that chills me as he says. “You do realise, Ms Matthews, that this would violate the terms of your employment contract.”

My what?

I finally looked him in the eye, confused. “What terms?”

“I reviewed your file yesterday.” His voice is calm, almost bored, which somehow makes it worse. “According to the agreement you signed five years ago, you’re contracted to remain with LensCorp for seven years. You’ve only completed five.”

My knees nearly buckle at his words. “That can’t be right.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Would you like me to show it to you?” He takes a file from his desk, opens a page and hands it to me.

His fingers graze mine unintentionally, and I pull away quickly, increasing the distance between us.

I read the contents and swallowed hard, suddenly remembering that day vividly as if it were just yesterday.

It had been an uneventful Tuesday five years ago when I had gotten a call that I'd passed the interview at LensCorp. I had come to the company with my swollen belly, my hands shaking from excitement, and the then HR manager was smiling politely at me as she slid the papers across the desk. I hadn’t read everything, just the first page, and then I put my signature on the damn document.