All Chapters of The Seduction Contract : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Freya stood very still. She did not move a muscle as she stared down at the paper on the Mr grant palms in front of her. She looked at the ink and the lines for a long time. Her mind was racing, and she thought about every choice she had. After thinking for what felt like hours, she whispered to herself. This scary deal was the only way to save her mother. There was no other way to get the money. She took a very deep breath to calm her shaking heart, looked up at the man, and finally spoke. "Fine," she said, her voice sounding firm. "I will sign this contract and do what you want. But my price is high. I want one million dollars. You must also pay for every single one of my mother’s hospital bills. On top of that, you have to pay off all the debts I owe you. I want to start fresh with no money problems." Mr. Grant looked at her and nodded his head. He didn't even blink at the price. "If that is your price, then that is fine," he said in a cold voice. "I will pay it. But you need to

WHAT??" Freya shouted. She quickly rubbed her hand across her mouth to clean it, feeling embarrassed. "Don’t flatter yourself! I am not looking at you," she said quickly, trying to look away. Darlington didn't say a word. He grabbed a towel and tied it around his waist. He wasn't wearing a shirt, which showed off his strong, hot chest and his six-pack muscles. He started walking toward her. Freya felt her heart beat faster, and she started stepping backward. She kept moving until her back hit the hard, cold wall. Darlington didn't stop. He leaned in very close until his face was just inches from hers. "What were you doing last night?" he asked in a deep, serious voice. Freya let out a nervous laugh. "What was I doing?" she asked, acting like she had no idea. "You were trying to seduce me last night," he replied firmly. He looked her right in the eyes, waiting for her to admit it. "Seduce you??" she said, making a confused face as if she didn't even understand the word. "Ye

"AHH! My knee! My knee is hurting, babe!" Cynthia suddenly shrieked, her voice cutting through the elegant music of the ballroom. Michael rushed to her side, his eyes wide with worry. Even though Cynthia hated Freya with every fiber of her being, she knew she couldn't let Michael cause a massive scene here. The room was filled with elite billionaires and powerful investors—the very people Michael was trying to impress so he could sell his firm’s latest shares and secure his promotion. Michael knelt down to pick Cynthia up. "Are you hurt, babe? What happened?" "Yes, Michael... it hurts so much," Cynthia whined, leaning her weight into him. She shot a wicked look at Freya. "I don't know why, but she just saw me and tried to attack me! She’s clearly jealous because I stole you from her. If it wasn't for you being here, she would have badly hurt me!" Freya stood there, her mouth hanging open in shock. She was still trying to process the sheer boldness of the lie. "Seriously? You’re ac

The last thing Freya heard before the world turned black was the thunderous sound of Darlington’s voice. "Fries!" he had roared, his fists hammering against the wood like a drumbeat. She had called his name—a weak, broken whisper that barely left her throat—before her knees gave out. As the darkness swallowed her, Freya wasn't in a VIP bathroom anymore. She was five years old again. The trauma of her childhood came rushing back like a flood. Years ago, her parents were always traveling in and out of the United States for their high-flying jobs. They left her behind with a nanny who had a heart of stone. The nanny hated Freya; she saw the little girl as a burden that kept her from her boyfriend. Every night, the nanny would dress up to go out, and every night, Freya would cling to her skirt, sobbing. "Please don't leave me! Please don't lock the door!" Freya would beg, her tiny voice cracking. But the nanny never listened. She would shove the little girl back into the room and turn

Freya walked back to her guest room, her footsteps heavy on the plush carpets. Her heart was a mess of emotions—anger, guilt, and a strange, aching sadness she couldn't quite explain. "I hate him," she whispered to the empty room, her voice trembling. "I hate his ego, I hate his coldness, and I hate how he makes me feel like a child." But as she sat on the edge of the bed, the reality of her situation came crashing down on her. The truth was, she couldn't leave. Not right now. If she walked out that front door, she was walking straight into the arms of Mr. Grant and his killers. She was trapped in a golden cage. She began pacing the room, her mind racing. With the way things were going, she didn't see any way to get the secret files Mr. Grant had demanded. Darlington was furious with her, and he wasn't the type to let his guard down when he was angry. The man who was supposed to be her target was currently the only man keeping her alive. "What am I supposed to do?" she whispered,