Page 57 of The Contract

A ghost I thought I’d buried for good.

Adrian Kingston.

He’s every inch the same spoiled rich boy he was back then—tailored sportswear, designer sunglasses perched atop his head, that same lazy, self-satisfied smirk that used to make my skin crawl.

It still does.

My hands curl into the fabric of my skirt before I force them to relax.

Breathe. Stay calm.

“What a surprise, Adrian.” Margo beams as she hugs him.

He watches me over her shoulder, never looking away.

The shock barely has time to register before his lips stretch into a slow, sinister smile. It’s the same arrogant, entitled smirk I remember—one that once made me feel small, insignificant.

Powerless.

Not anymore.

I smooth my expression, shuttering the moment of recognition, slipping into the role I’ve perfected over the years. The woman I am now doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t cower.

Margo beams, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing beneath my skin. “Elena, dear, this is my nephew, Adrian. Adrian, meet Elena—Damien Wolfe’s fiancée.”

The amusement in his gaze sharpens.

I extend my hand as if I’ve never seen him before, as if the touch of his skin on mine wouldn’t make me want to scrub it raw.

“A pleasure to meet you.”

Adrian takes it. Holds it a second too long.

His grip is firm, his thumb brushing over my wrist—subtle, intentional. Testing me.

“Haven’t we met before?” His voice is smooth, laced with mock curiosity.

My stomach twists, but I don’t blink.

I keep a polite smile on my face, slipping my fingers from his grasp. “No, I don’t believe so.”

His smirk deepens.

“Hmm.” He tilts his head like he’s picking apart a puzzle. “I never forget a pretty face, and someone as beautiful as you would leave an impression.”

The words slither through the space between us, wrapping around my ribs like a slow constriction.

Before I have to reply, Margo calls for the server.

“Oh, let’s have some iced teas brought over, please.” She waves a hand, distracted, her warm attention still blissfully unaware of the tension radiating from me.

I rip my hand away from him.

His eyes gleam with something wicked. Calculating.

And suddenly, the stakes of this entire charade feel so much higher.

Because Adrian isn’t just some old flame.

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