Chapter 2

“The Contract”

I barely slept that night.

The contract lay on my tiny table like a challenge I wasn’t sure I could meet. Six months. Six months living in someone else’s world, following rules I hadn’t agreed to, caring for someone I had never met. And yet… the thought of the compensation made my fingers tremble with something I hadn’t felt in weeks: hope.

By morning, my tiny flower shop smelled faintly of lilies and coffee. The streets were quiet, wet from the previous night’s rain, and my reflection in the shop window made me flinch. Pale, exhausted, anxious… and yet determined.

I took a deep breath, sat down, and stared at the contract again.

The terms were clear: I would live in the Ashford mansion for six months, care for a child named Chloe, follow all rules, and maintain discretion. In return, I would be handsomely compensated — enough to pay off my debts, keep the shop afloat, and maybe even start over.

The handwriting of my signature felt heavy when I signed. Each letter was a promise I didn’t know I could keep.

And then I realized… there was no turning back.

The mansion was nothing like I imagined.

The taxi wound through private roads lined with towering oaks and perfectly manicured hedges. My stomach knotted with nerves. I had never been anywhere remotely luxurious. The city’s skyline might as well have been a fantasy; this place was another world entirely.

When the taxi stopped, I stared at the enormous wrought-iron gates, gleaming under the weak morning sun. A uniformed guard opened them, and I felt like I had stepped into a dream I didn’t belong in.

I pressed the button on the passenger door, and the driver looked at me with a faint, polite smile. “You’re sure you want this?”

I nodded. “Yes. I… I have to do this.”

The moment I stepped onto the driveway, I felt the weight of someone else’s world pressing against me. The mansion loomed before me, glass and stone, cold and unyielding. I swallowed hard, clutched my bag tighter, and rang the bell.

The door opened before I could knock a second time.

And there he was. Cade Ashford.

He didn’t speak at first. He just studied me, eyes gray and unreadable, arms crossed. He was taller than I remembered, his presence sharper in person — almost predatory in the way he moved, calculated and precise.

“You’re here,” he said finally. His tone was neutral, but the weight behind it made my knees weak.

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I… I signed.”

He nodded once and stepped aside. “Follow me.”

The interior of the mansion was even more overwhelming than the exterior. Marble floors reflected the sunlight streaming through tall windows, chandeliers sparkled like constellations, and every surface gleamed with expensive perfection. I felt exposed in my plain dress and worn shoes, painfully aware of the gap between my life and this world.

“You’ll be staying in the west wing,” Cade said without ceremony. “Your living space is ready. Chloe is expecting you in the morning. You will follow my rules — and the rules of the house — without exception.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yes, sir.”

He paused, as if testing my resolve. “This is not a hotel. Mistakes have consequences. If you’re unsure… reconsider.”

I forced a nod. “I… understand.”

That first night in my room, I unpacked slowly. The furniture was elegant, cold, and unfamiliar. A soft bed, velvet cushions, silk sheets — luxury I wasn’t used to, and somehow, it made me feel small. Like an intruder in someone else’s life.

I tried to focus on the positive: the money, the chance to survive, the possibility of helping someone who needed me. Yet, every shadow in the mansion felt alive. Every creak of the floorboards made me jump.

And then came the knock on the door.

I jumped. “Yes?” I called, my voice barely steady.

“Lila,” a soft voice said. “It’s Chloe. Can I come in?”

I blinked. Chloe. The child I was supposed to care for. My stomach twisted into nervous knots.

“Of course,” I said, opening the door.

Chloe stepped in cautiously. She looked no older than five, with golden curls framing a small, pale face. Her wide brown eyes studied me with curiosity and something that felt like wariness. She clutched a small stuffed rabbit to her chest.

“I… I’m Lila,” I said gently. “You must be Chloe?”

She nodded, stepping closer but not too close. “Are you… my new helper?”

I swallowed. “I… I’ll be helping you, yes. You and I are going to spend some time together, and I promise to keep you safe.”

Her eyes flickered with something I didn’t understand — relief? Skepticism? I wasn’t sure.

“I don’t like rules,” she said softly. “My dad… he’s scary.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t even met Cade properly yet, but somehow, I understood. Children sensed things adults tried to hide.

“You’re safe with me,” I whispered, and I meant it.

The next morning, Cade entered the room unannounced. My heart leapt, and I instantly felt self-conscious. He wasn’t smiling. He was observing, judging — and I hated that I could feel myself shrinking under his gaze.

“Breakfast is served,” he said, nodding toward the dining area. “Chloe will join you shortly.”

I nodded. My stomach twisted again. I wanted to run, hide, scream… anything but walk into this strange world.

And then Chloe appeared, as bright as the morning sun, holding her rabbit tightly. She looked at Cade nervously, then at me, and finally gave a small, tentative smile.

I returned it as best I could. “Good morning, Chloe. Did you sleep well?”

She shrugged. “Okay. But I didn’t want to wake up. I don’t like this house sometimes.”

I bit my lip, nodding. “I understand.”

Cade watched us silently. His expression was impossible to read. I couldn’t tell if he approved or simply tolerated our presence.

Then he said something that made my heart freeze:

“You have a lot to learn, Lila. And so does she. I expect results. Six months — not a day less. If you fail, there will be consequences.”

I swallowed hard. My palms were sweaty. “I… I’ll do my best,” I whispered.

He turned, his coat sweeping behind him like a shadow, and left the room. Silence fell, and I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Chloe looked at me, eyes wide. “Do you think… he’s always like that?”

I shook my head, unsure. “Maybe,” I said softly. “But we’ll figure it out… together.”

Her hand found mine, small and trusting. And for the first time since the wedding disaster, I felt a flicker of hope.

But a flicker isn’t enough. I had six months to survive this… and I had no idea what I was really walking into.

And then I noticed something at the edge of the table — a folded note addressed to me, in elegant handwriting I didn’t recognize:

“Be careful, Lila. Not everyone here wants you to succeed.”

My heart lurched.

The mansion, the contract, the child… and now a warning.

What had I gotten myself into?