Page 90 of The Contract

“Now, now.” His fingers tighten slightly on my waist. “No need for theatrics. We’re just two old friends catching up, aren’t we?”

I grit my teeth.

“You and I were never friends.”

He chuckles.

“That’s true. We were so much more than that.”

His fingers trail slightly lower, and I jerk away from him.

He only smirks.

“Tell me, Elena . . . have you given my offer some thought?”

I meet his stare, unblinking.

“I don’t need to.”

“Why not?” His tone is smug.

“What’s he offering you, Elena? A pretend ring and an NDA? A condo, maybe?”

He leans in, his voice a low whisper against my ear, and I grit my teeth so hard it hurts.

“I’ll give you something real. One hundred million dollars, Elena. Something life changing.”

The number is outrageous.

Just like his desperation.

And his misguided belief that anything he could ever say would make me consider his offer for even a second.

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze with unwavering defiance.

“I’d rather set myself on fire, you stupid piece of shit.”

Calloway is talking.

That much I am aware of. The words he says, whether he is directing them at me—no fucking idea.

Marcus responds when I don’t, his expression clearly questioning me, but I don’t register a single word.

Because my focus is locked elsewhere.

On her.

On him.

Adrian’s hand rests too low on Elena’s back, his grip firm, possessive in a way that sets my teeth on edge. His lips move close to her ear, whispering something meant only for her, and the way his fingers linger against the delicate fabric of her dress makes my grip tighten around my glass.

I know his type.

The ones who take because they think they can. The ones who wear their arrogance like a second skin, convinced the world owes them something.

And right now, I can see it—the way he’s toying with her, testing her boundaries, pushing just enough to see how far he can go before she pushes back.

The sharp burn in my chest is immediate, creeping up my throat, my jaw locking tight as I watch the interaction unfold.