บททั้งหมดของ His Contract Mistress: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

The day passed in a blur. Ethan left for the office without another word, his kiss on Aria’s lips more of a brand than affection—a silent warning that she belonged to him.But even when the elevator doors closed behind him, she couldn’t shake the tension. His touch still burned on her skin, but so did Nathaniel’s memory. She told herself to stay busy, to keep her head down.It didn’t matter.By nightfall, she felt the shift in the air before she even saw him.Nathaniel.He appeared in the doorway of the penthouse library where she had retreated, his presence filling the room like smoke. He leaned against the frame casually, but his crimson eyes burned with wicked amusement.“You look tired, little dove,” he drawled, stepping inside. “Let me guess—Blackwood finally showed you just how ruthless he can be?”Aria’s heart lurched. She snapped the book shut, glaring at him. “You shouldn’t be here. If Ethan finds out—”“He’ll what?” Nathaniel interrupted smoothly, closing the distance betwee

The door still rattled from Nathaniel’s departure, but silence fell like a suffocating blanket over the penthouse.Ethan stood rigid, his fists clenched, chest rising and falling like a predator barely holding itself back from the kill. His eyes burned with something darker than jealousy—it was obsession.Aria wrapped her arms around herself, trembling, not just from fear but from the chaos inside her. Ethan had nearly killed Nathaniel in front of her, and yet…the way he looked at her now made her pulse race in a way she couldn’t explain.“Ethan…” she whispered, stepping closer.His hand shot out, gripping her wrist, pulling her flush against him. His breath was hot against her ear, his voice raw.“Tell me the truth.” His words came out like a command, not a request. “Did you want him?”Aria’s heart stuttered.Her silence was enough.Ethan’s jaw tightened. He crushed his mouth against hers, the kiss harsh and punishing, as though he wanted to erase Nathaniel’s touch with his own. She

Ethan Blackwood rarely allowed rage to control him. In the boardroom, he was a god—cold, calculated, untouchable. But tonight, as his driver pulled the Bentley into his private garage, a storm brewed behind his steely composure.Because he knew.He knew Nathaniel had been with her.His sources didn’t fail him. Marco’s name had come up in a report. Aria’s studio had been unlocked. Cameras had caught Nathaniel’s car circling the block. And Ethan knew Aria well enough to know when she was hiding something.He stepped out of the car, his jaw tight, and took the private elevator straight to the penthouse.Inside, Aria stood in the kitchen, still wearing the same paint-smeared blouse from earlier. She froze when she saw him, brush of guilt flickering across her face.“Ethan,” she whispered.His gaze cut through her. “Where were you tonight?”Her lips parted. “I told you. The studio.”His eyes narrowed. “And did anyone… visit you there?”The silence that followed was louder than any answer.

The penthouse was silent when Aria slipped back in, her pulse thundering in her ears. She closed the door softly, praying Ethan hadn’t noticed her absence.But he was already waiting.Ethan sat in the armchair by the window, shadows cutting sharp lines across his face. A glass of whiskey sat untouched on the table beside him, and his dark eyes followed her every movement like a predator stalking its prey.“Where were you?” His voice was low, controlled—too controlled.Aria froze, clutching her bag. “I… I needed some air. I went for a walk.”His brow arched. “A walk. In the middle of the night. With your studio lights on?”Her blood drained from her face. He knew.Ethan rose to his feet, the sheer force of his presence suffocating. “Try again, Aria. This time, don’t insult me with lies.”Her hands shook as she dropped her bag to the floor. “I went to the studio,” she admitted. “I just needed space. To paint. To think.”His steps were slow, deliberate, until he stood before her, towerin

The silence inside Nathaniel Crane’s private club was deafening. Not the kind of silence born of emptiness, but the calculated hush of wealth and menace. The dim light glowed golden against velvet drapes, crystal decanters, and the faint scent of expensive cigars. Aria’s heels clicked against the polished floor as she followed the man every New Yorker feared but few dared name aloud.Nathaniel walked with the easy arrogance of someone who owned the world—or at least the parts of it most men sold their souls to touch. His dark eyes slid back to her every so often, gleaming with both amusement and hunger.“You came,” he drawled, his voice silk laced with poison. “And without your leash.”Aria stiffened. “I’m not on a leash.”Nathaniel chuckled, pouring himself a glass of amber liquid and offering her one she didn’t take. “No? Then why do you tremble every time his name is mentioned? Ethan Blackwood has many talents, but subtlety isn’t one of them. He doesn’t bind women with chains. He b