When Our Contracted Love Ends

Oliver's POV

"Hey! Miss Harrington is being so generous. Why aren't you on your knees, groveling before your master and thanking her?"

The guests around us joined in, mocking me with laughter.

I stood alone in a corner and looked at Camille's cold, indifferent expression.

Did she also see our relationship as nothing more than that of master and servant?

Ten years ago, my parents had passed away one after the other, and my grandmother had fallen ill soon afterward.

At my most desperate, when I needed money more than anything, Camille paid to buy my services, and the two of us signed a special contract.

Under the terms of the contract, I had to take courses and meet all her emotional needs. I had to study etiquette and learn how to drink properly so that I could become the kind of male companion she could proudly bring to events. I also had to learn martial arts so that I could serve as her personal bodyguard.

Then there were finance, nursing, cooking, and countless other subjects. Every day, I attended one class after another. I had to master everything necessary to keep up with her work and take care of every aspect of her life.

When you added it all up, neither of us had really lost out. I had traded my dignity for 10 more years of my grandmother's life.

Meanwhile, Camille had spent what amounted to a trivial sum for her to buy herself a perfect boyfriend who would remain by her side for 10 years.

But somewhere along the way, I had grown greedy. I had foolishly started wanting a love of my own and forgotten that, under our contract, she was nothing more than my client.

That foolish hope had completely snuffed out the tiny spark of love that had only just begun to grow between us.

When all was said and done, our relationship was nothing more than a financial transaction.

The contract came before everything else, so I refused to embarrass Camille in front of everyone. Instead, I picked up the wineglass and drained it in one go as a gesture of thanks.

Before she could say anything, her first love pursed his lips in displeasure and pulled her even closer, deliberately fanning the flames.

"Camille, you've spoiled him far too much. Even 200,000 dollars isn't enough to get him on his knees. Are you raising a servant or treating him like royalty?" Christopher snarked. "If it were me, I'd have dropped to my knees and groveled in gratitude a long time ago."

With Christopher leading the charge, the people below the stage began shouting even louder.

"If he won't get on his knees, I will. I'll only take 100,000 dollars."

"10,000 dollars is enough for me. He won't even get on his knees for 200,000 dollars? Talk about ungrateful."

Every one of them was a wealthy heir. None of them needed the money. They were only saying those things to make a joke out of me.

Yet at that moment, everyone seemed to think I was the one being ungrateful. Even the staff looked at me with open disdain, as though they couldn't stand the sight of a man freeloading off a woman while acting so entitled.

I raised my head and met Camille's cold gaze.

"Do you think the money isn't enough?" she asked icily. "I can give you more."

I stared at her.

Even she wanted to force me to get on my knees.

But the Camille I remembered had always valued money above everything else. She had gone to great lengths to build up my image, all so I could help her make even more money.

In the past, if anyone so much as made a snide remark about me being a kept man, Camille would fly into a rage and immediately step forward to defend me.