Page 164 of The Contract

I retreated—like I always do. Like I’ve done my whole life.

Because I’ve always been alone.

But I don’t feel alone anymore.

Damien is different.

He wouldn’t judge me for my past. Wouldn’t look at me and see something broken, something dirty. He cares about me.

And I know, without a doubt, that he’s falling for me—just like I’ve already fallen for him.

And I won’t let Adrian destroy that.

My pulse pounds with every step, my lungs suddenly too tight, the air too thin. I need to get out of here. Get away. Get to Damien.

There’s still time to fix this.

There’s still time.

I pull up the contact for the Blackstone car service and order a ride to Damien’s office.

They must have my name on caller ID because they call me by name as they confirm the ride. “Of course, Ms. Moreau. We’ll have your driver waiting for you.”

I turn the corner to save myself a block, my steps hard against the pavement.

I should call Damien. Let him know I’m coming.

But chills run down my spine when I hear another pair of footsteps behind me.

Steady. Measured.

Following me. And getting closer. My grip tightens on my phone.

The moment I hear the footsteps quicken behind me, I know I don’t have time to think.

I just bolt.

My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse roaring in my ears as my feet pound against the pavement. I don’t waste time looking over my shoulder—I already know it’s him. Adrian’s heavy footfalls hammer behind me, fast and determined.

The late-morning air rips past me, my breath coming sharp and ragged as I push harder. A block and a half. That’s all I need. Just one more turn, and I’ll be in sight of the Blackstone.

But then my hat flies off, my long hair spilling free, whipping behind me like a fucking flag. And that’s all it takes.

A sharp yank at my scalp sends me reeling backward, my neck snapping with the force.

A gasp catches in my lungs, but it’s cut off as Adrian shoves me against the brick wall by my throat.

The impact rattles through my body, my back scraping against the rough surface. One of his hands clamps over my mouth. The other grips my wrist, pinning it hard against the wall.

He flattens his frame against me, his knee between my legs, trapping me between him and the wall.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Elena,” Adrian hisses, his breath hot and sour against my ear. I pull the short hair near the nape of his neck, and he lets go of my mouth to get control of my other hand.

I glare at him, my pulse hammering, but I refuse to let him see fear.

“Let. Me. Go.”

He chuckles darkly, panting heavily as he slams my other wrist against the wall. “I tried to give you an easy way out. Tried to let you be smart about this, but no—you want to be difficult.”

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