Three

CHAPTER THREE

Jordan’s POV

It was already midnight when I finally got home, and the silence inside the house felt heavier

than it should have, like it was pressing against my thoughts and forcing me to sit with

everything I had done without giving me a way to escape it.

I stood at the entrance for a long time without moving, still in the same state I left the arena, still

carrying the noise of the match in my head, but none of that mattered anymore because the

only thing I could hear clearly was my own question repeating itself.

What did I do.

Why did I bring a girl home.

A girl I hardly know.

I walked further inside slowly, but my steps felt disconnected from my mind, like my body was

moving out of habit while my thoughts stayed frozen in the moment I stepped in between her

and her family.

Even now, I could still see it.

Her tears.

Her shaking voice.

The way she kept saying no while they pulled her like she had no choice in her own life.

I stopped in the middle of the room and exhaled slowly, but it did nothing to settle the chaos

building inside me.

This was not supposed to happen.

I had rules for myself.

I kept distance from people.

I never let anyone into my private space.

Even Harper that my family had been forcing on me, I had never allowed her into my personal

world, never let her cross that boundary, because she was part of their plan, not mine, and I had

always made sure they understood that.

But there was something deeper behind all of that.

A memory I never fully let go of, girl from my childhood childhood friend.

We had been close in a way that felt natural, not forced, not controlled, just real in a way nothing

else in my life had ever been, and then she disappeared from my life after her mother’s

accident, when her family had to leave suddenly, and I never got the chance to say a proper

goodbye.

I still remembered her, I still thought I would see her again one day.

That belief had stayed with me longer than anything else in my life.

And maybe that was why I never let anyone else take her place.

Maybe that was why I never accepted Harper, no matter how much my family pushed.

Because in my mind, there was still someone else I was waiting for.

I lowered myself into a chair in my study and ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense

of everything, but the more I thought, the more everything felt mixed together.

Avery was not part of that world.

Avery was not supposed to be connected to any of this.

And yet I still brought her home.

I pressed my hand against my forehead again, letting out a slow breath as the thoughts kept

building without stopping.

Maybe I did it for a reason.

Maybe I saw a chance to finally push my family away.

If I brought someone else into my life, someone unexpected, someone they did not control, they

would stop forcing Harper on me.

They would have no choice but to back off.

And that would give me space.

Space to think, space to breathe, space to keep looking for the girl I had lost, so maybe that

was it.

Maybe Avery was just the solution.

A temporary arrangement, a contract.

That thought started forming properly in my mind as I sat there, and the more I looked at it, the

more it felt like the only logical answer.

If she wanted to stay under my roof, then she would have to understand the conditions.

I stood up from the chair with that thought finally settled in my mind and walked out of the study,

heading toward the room where I had left her earlier, the weight in my chest still there but now

replaced with something more controlled, something more structured.

When I found her, she was still in a state I did not expect, sitting quietly but tense, like she was

waiting for her life to decide what to become next.

I did not waste time explaining too much.

I simply placed the document in front of her.

Her eyes dropped to it slowly, her fingers hesitating before even touching the paper, and I

watched her expression change as she tried to understand what she was looking at.

She finally lifted it slightly, her voice soft but uncertain.

“A contract marriage, ” she read out loud, like she was testing whether the words made sense.

Her brows tightened immediately, confusion settling deeper across her face as she looked up at me.

“You mean… marriage?” she asked quietly, like she could not believe it was the only option

being offered to her.

I nodded once without hesitation.

“Yes, ” I said simply.

She stared at the document again, longer this time, her eyes moving across the lines as if she

was trying to find another meaning hidden between them.

I stayed quiet, I did not rush her.

I just watched her carefully, because I already knew what was coming.

Her hand lowered slightly as she shook her head.

“No,” she said, her voice breaking a little at the edges,

“I do not want a contract marriage.”

She swallowed hard and looked down, her grip tightening around the paper as if it was suddenly

too heavy for her hands.

“I thought I could stay here,” she continued, her voice trembling more now,

“I thought I couldnhelp in any way… even as a maid, anything… anything that would let me stay in this country.”

Her words were not dramatic.

They were honest.

And that honesty made something uncomfortable press against my chest, something I did not

want to name or understand.

But I kept my face calm.

“This is the only way I can help you stay here,” I said quietly, my tone steady even though my

thoughts were not.

She looked up at me again, her eyes searching my face like she was trying to decide if I meant

it or if there was another option she could still hold onto.

For a moment, she looked lost.

Not just confused, lost.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she looked back down at the contract again, reading it more

carefully this time, and I could see her lips moving faintly as she went through the words.

She read it out loud again, softer this time.

“No emotional attachment…”

Her voice paused, and she blinked quickly.

“No personal interference…”

She swallowed, continuing even though her voice was getting weaker.

“No interference in each other’s private life…”

She stopped for a second, her fingers tightening on the page.

“No public disclosure… no involvement with third parties… no obligations beyond agreement

terms…”

Her voice dropped even further, almost a whisper now.

“No… falling in love…”

The last line hung in the air longer than the rest.

She lifted her eyes slowly, her expression now fully shaken.

“This is not just helping me stay,” she said quietly.

I did not answer immediately.

Because I knew she was right in a way I did not want to admit.

But I still said it anyway.

“It is what is necessary,” I replied.

Her breath shook as she looked at the paper again, and I could see the battle happening inside

her, fear pulling her one way, survival pulling her another.

“I can just stay as your maid,

” she said again, softer this time, almost pleading.

not need this… I just need to stay here…

”

“I will work… I do

I exhaled slowly.

“This is the only way I could help ,

” I said, my voice lower now.

She looked up immediately, confused.

She looked down at the contract for a long time, her fingers slowly loosening and tightening

around it like she could not decide whether to let go or hold on.

Then finally, she reached for the pen, her hand paused before touching the paper.

She looked at me one last time, like she still wanted me to say something different.

I did not and slowly, she signed.

The sound of the pen against paper felt louder than it should have been.

When she finished, she placed it down carefully, her hand still trembling slightly as she stared at

her own signature like she was trying to understand what she had just agreed to.

I picked up the document and looked at it for a moment longer than I intended.

Because in that instant, it was no longer just a contract.

It was a line that could not be undone.

And as I looked at her sitting there, still shaken, still unsure, I realized I had just tied a stranger’s

survival to my name in a way I could no longer walk away from