All Chapters of The Heiress Contract : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The door opened only halfway.The man stayed planted behind it, one hand gripping the edge as though ready to close it at the slightest wrong move. His eyes flicked quickly, to the left, then to right, observing the men standing on his doorstep.The two men in front of his door.About five others lingering just far enough back to fade into the background.Something in the man’s face tightened instantly. Not fear, yet, but awareness. The kind that came when instinct screamed that this wasn’t a coincidence.He smoothed his expression almost immediately, forcing his lips into a polite, neutral line."Good evening," he said. "Can I help you?"His voice was steady and practiced.Zade tilted his head slightly, studying him with open interest, as though the man were something mildly entertaining. His lips curved,not into a friendly smile, but something sharper."You’re not going to invite us in?" Zade asked lightly.The man ignored the question."I was just about to head out," he said, shift

Back at the office, by the time Sylvie realized how long she had been staring at her screen, the office had already begun to feel empty. A few lights had been switched off and several desks were empty. Chairs were pushed in neatly, abandoned for the night.She leaned back in her chair and exhaled slowly, rubbing her eyes.Whatever she had been working on refused to come together the way it usually did. She had rewritten the same section more times than she cared to count. Her focus slipped every few minutes, her thoughts drifting somewhere else, home, the tension that had hovered over the house for days.She glanced at the time. It was already late.She shut her laptop with a soft click and began gathering her things. As she stood, her body protested, stiff from sitting too long. She stretched slightly, then slipped her bag over her shoulder.Ryan was already waiting near the exit, as he always was."Ready?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.He nodded. "Yeah."They walked thro

The two men were seated close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Their hands were bound. But the proximity gave them time. Time to think, whisper and panic quietly. The room was dim, lit by a single overhead bulb. Carlton and Zade stood near the far wall with Zade resting on a table, arms crossed while talking. Lucas stood a few steps behind Zade, silent as ever. The men bent their heads slightly with their voices barely audible. "This is bad," one of the men muttered under his breath. His eyes flicked toward Zade and back just as quickly. "This is really bad." "Lower your voice," the other hissed. "They’ll hear." "They won't," the first man said, panic creeping into his tone. "Look at him. That’s Zade Russo. Do you know what people say about him?" The second man swallowed. "People say a lot of things." "Not about him," the first replied sharply. "Those aren’t stories. He doesn’t bluff. He doesn’t threaten twice." The second man shook his head slowly, jaw c

It has finally been settled. That was the word that her father used, settled. Not finished or erased, just handled in a way that wouldn’t draw attention or raise questions. Sylvie listened as he explained it, sitting on the couch with her hands folded. Ryan was there too, seated on the couch and listening. Cole explained that the men involved had been identified. Confronted. Stopped. He didn’t go into details, and Sylvie didn’t ask for any. When he mentioned the name of the man behind everything, it struck a faint chord in her mind. Lancaster. She frowned slightly, trying to place it. The name sounded familiar, like something she had heard in passing at a dinner or in a conversation she hadn’t been part of. But she couldn’t remember where or when, and the effort didn’t feel important enough to push. What mattered was that it was over. The tight feeling in her chest eased as the minutes passed. The house felt normal again. Later, after Cole left the room and Ryan stepped

The next morning, Sylvie stood in front of her mirror longer than usual. She had already showered and dressed, but she hadn’t moved away from the mirror. Her hair was half-done, one side smooth, the other slightly off, like she’d started, stopped, and started again without committing. She lifted her brush, ran it through slowly, then frowned at her reflection. "This is not working," she muttered. She leaned closer to the mirror and adjusted a strand near her temple. Then another. Then she reached for her makeup again, even though she had told herself she’d keep it simple today. The liner smudged slightly on the first try. She sighed. Her mind drifted, uninvited. Ryan. The thought came so easily that it annoyed her. It made her correct the liner, a little more carefully this time, concentrating harder than necessary. When she stepped back, she tilted her head, assessing herself critically. Why am I even trying this hard? She scoffed quietly at her reflection. "Get a grip, Sylv