Page 144 of The Contract

Elena smiles, warmth radiating from her expression. “The Global Future Fund still had the pictures you submitted when they did that piece on you,” she explains. “And I noticed the recent photograph inFortunemagazine was the exact same pose. It seemed too good to pass up.”

“Elena.”

Calloway is beyond touched; his voice is thick with emotion as he swipes at his eyes before pulling her into a hug.

Margo lets out a quiet gasp, tears spilling freely as she, too, embraces Elena.

And just like that, Adrian is completely forgotten.

Hell, even the fucking merger is forgotten.

I can see it in Adrian’s face—the way his jaw tenses, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, barely restraining his frustration. He fucking hates it.

Hates that Elena just effortlessly stole the spotlight, that she’s the one Calloway and his wife are wrapped up in right now, that she’s the one making this moment unforgettable.

It’s poetic, really.

And when he tries to shift the attention back, his voice all forced charm as he attempts, yet again, to circle back to business?—

Margo shuts him down without a second thought.

“No talk of work tonight.” She dabs at her tears, smiling at Elena before squeezing her husband’s hand. “That’s an order.”

Adrian clenches his jaw, swallowing whatever smart remark he had ready.

And I sit back, taking in the scene—Elena still tucked in Margo’s embrace, Calloway fitting his new key onto the keychain, Adrian fuming in silence.

Elena’s laughter still lingers in the air, wrapping around me like a thread I don’t want to cut.

Margo is still wiping at her eyes, showing off the new keychain with a fond smile, while Calloway beams, clearly moved by Elena’s thoughtful gift.

I barely hear any of it.

Because the second they step away, I move to Elena.

Crossing the short space between us, I wrap an arm low around her back and pull her flush against me. Her body fits against mine effortlessly, like she belongs there.

I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her perfume—warm, soft, fucking intoxicating.

She chuckles, a quiet sound, but I don’t miss the way her breath hitches slightly.

“Damien,” she whispers, my name a soft admonishment, but there’s no real bite to it.

I tighten my grip, my fingers pressing into the dip of her spine.

“You’re fucking incredible.”

My voice is low, rough, and even I can hear the longing in it.

I don’t know if she catches it.

I don’t know if she realizes how completely I’m losing myself in her.

But before I can dwell on it, before I can even think about what the hell I’m doing, a voice I fucking despise cuts through the moment.

“Touching little display.”

The smirk on Adrian’s face is one I want to rip clean off. He strolls up with that easy arrogance, his hands in his pockets, his eyes flicking between us before settling on Elena.

---