Page 114 of The Contract

The corners of my lips lift despite everything weighing me down.

Lifting the lid, my breath catches at the sight of what’s inside.

A gown.

Not just any gown—a masterpiece.

The fabric shimmers under the soft light, deep red with an almost liquid sheen, pooling like molten silk as I unfold it. The cut is breathtaking—sophisticated but daring, with delicate straps and a plunging neckline, a slit that promises just enough temptation without being obvious.

I trail my fingertips over the fabric, savoring the feel of it, my stomach twisting in an unfamiliar kind of excitement.

I don’t try to suppress the small smile curving my lips. No one is here to see it, so I allow myself to feel the moment, to enjoy the beautiful gown.

Returning the lid, another envelope catches my eye.

My name is also written on this one.

Perhaps it’s more instructions for this mystery night Damien is slowly letting me in on.

As soon as I pull out the contents, I know who this is from.

A cold shiver races down my spine as my fingers tighten around the stack of glossy photographs.

My pulse slows, my mind struggling to process what I’m seeing.

A night I’ve worked so hard to forget.

The strip club.

Dim neon lighting. The grainy quality of a surveillance camera.

A shot of the VIP lounge.

And me.

A younger version of myself—barely nineteen, still so naïve, still believing I had control over my world.

The next photo makes me tremble.

I’m straddling the lap of a man whose face I can’t forget, no matter how many years have passed.

The man who took everything from me.

Who left scars no one could see.

There are a dozen pictures here.

Me, dancing. His hands on my hips. The exact moment before everything changed.

The moment before the door locked.

The moment before I lost all control.

The moment I stopped belonging to myself.

A wave of nausea rolls through me, my breath shuddering as I force myself to look at the last image and the note scrawled across the bottom in sharp, slanted handwriting.

“Thursday. Ten o’clock.”

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