chapter 5

"My contract girlfriend?" Darlington asked. His expression was dead serious, his dark eyes boring into hers.

Freya immediately pulled back, her heart racing with a sudden spike of fear. "No! I didn't mean it like that. It’s just... I heard you needed one. And I figured you wouldn't kill me if I was actually useful to you. Besides, it’s not like I have a place to stay, and it's not like I’m forcing you, or—"

"Deal," Darlington said, cutting her off instantly.

Freya blinked, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Deal?"

"Deal," he repeated. A small, mysterious glint appeared in his eyes. At least this way, I can watch her closely and find out if she’s really a spy, he thought to himself.

"Wait, are you being serious right now?" Freya asked, hardly believing her luck.

"I said deal, didn't I?" Darlington replied. He reached into a leather folder on the table. "If that’s the case, you’ll have to sign some documents. These were originally meant for someone else but—"

"I know Natalie Kate," Freya interrupted quickly.

Darlington froze, his eyes narrowing. "How do you know that name?"

Freya felt a cold sweat break out on her neck. She realized she wasn't supposed to know about his secret business arrangements. "Well..." she said clumsily, scratching her head and looking away. "It was on the news! Everyone knows about her."

"It was never on the news," Darlington said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Well... I have my sources! Haha," she gave a weird, nervous laugh that made her look even more suspicious.

Darlington stared at her for a long moment before sliding the papers across the table. "Read them. Carefully."

Freya skimmed the contract.

No flirting. No entering private rooms. Act as his girlfriend in public.

Her breath caught when she saw the payment.

“Five hundred thousand dollars… monthly?”

"The contract can be terminated at any time if you violate the rules," Darlington warned.

"I can work with that," Freya said. She grabbed a pen and signed her name with a shaky hand.

"Good. Go get dressed. You're moving in today."

Freya went upstairs to the room meant for Natalie. In the walk-in closet, she found a stunning red dress that fit her perfectly. When she walked outside the mansion, she saw Darlington leaning against a jet-black Rolls-Royce Ghost. The car was polished so brightly it looked like a mirror, its silver hood ornament gleaming in the sun.

"What is all this for?" Freya asked in surprise.

"Get in. I'm taking you to pack your things," Darlington said, opening the door for her in a polite, gentlemanly way. "I'm curious to meet my new girlfriend's family."

"I actually don't have a family," Freya said softly as she slid into the buttery-soft leather seat.

"Well, knowing where my girlfriend lived is not a violation of the contract. So, get in, Miss Fries... or whatever your name is."

Freya felt a blush creep up her neck. He’s handsome, I can’t lie. And he smells so good—like expensive wood and success, she thought. Michael never even opened a car door for me. Snap out of it, Freya! You aren't supposed to notice his looks!

"It's not Fries!" she said, playfully hitting his hand as he sat in the driver's seat. "It's Freya. You don't even know your own girlfriend's name?"

"Sorry, Miss Fries, but I’ll choose what I call you," Darlington replied with a small, teasing smirk.

"Whatever," Freya muttered, though a faint smile touched her lips.

The ride to her old house was long and silent. As they approached the familiar, run-down street, Freya finally broke the silence. "Wait... out of curiosity, why did you actually help me that night?"

"Clearly, you needed help," Darlington said, his face returning to its usual still, unreadable mask.

"Well... thank you," Freya whispered.

"Go get your luggage, Freya. There will be plenty of time to thank me later."

Freya stepped out of the luxury car and walked into Michael’s house. She expected it to be empty, but she was met with a sight that made her blood boil. On the couch, Cynthia was sitting on Michael’s lap, kissing him passionately.

"What?!" Freya screamed.

Michael jumped, quickly arranging his trousers while Cynthia stood up, smoothing her hair with a smirk.

"What are you doing here, Freya?" Michael asked, looking confused and annoyed.

"Have you forgotten, ex-boyfriend? I live here! Or I did. You couldn't even wait until I moved out before having sex with Cynthia?"

"Get over yourself, Freya," Michael snapped. "You're so pathetic. It's not like we ever had sex anyway. You were never my type. You were only good for doing the dishes and the laundry." He reached over and sparked Cynthia’s backside softly. "Cynthia has the sexiest body in the city. You? You're just a broke, unfortunate bitch."

"It’s good we never had sex, Michael," Freya said, her voice trembling with rage. "I would have regretted it for the rest of my life."

"Shut up, Freya!" Cynthia cut in. "Michael has been promoted to CEO of Rainbows Corporation. A man like him has needs, and a broke bum like you could never satisfy him. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, you motherless loser."

"Don't talk about my mother that way," Freya said, her face turning white with anger.

"So what are you going to do?" Cynthia laughed. "No wonder you lost your dad. You're so cursed that you're going to lose your mum soon, too."

Slap!

The sound of Freya’s hand hitting Cynthia’s face echoed through the room. "I warned you not to talk about my mum!"

Cynthia shrieked, clutching her cheek. "Michael! She just slapped me! Do something!"

"How dare you touch her!" Michael roared. He rushed toward Freya, his face red with fury.

Freya backed away, her heart thumping against her ribs until she hit the cold wall. She was trapped. Michael raised his hand high, his fist clenched, ready to strike her. Freya closed her eyes, bracing for the pain.

"Leave her alone."

A deep, freezing voice boomed from the doorway. Michael froze. Everyone turned to see Darlington Knight standing there, looking like a god of death.