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My Contract Love Story  Novel Cover

My Contract Love Story

To rescue her family from a financial crisis, Ava signs a high-stakes contract with Ethan, a distant and influential billionaire. Initially designed as a cold business deal to appease his relatives, their staged relationship begins to feel unexpectedly real. As hidden truths surface and genuine emotions take root, the line between fiction and reality fades. Ava faces a difficult choice: can she trust her heart to a man who essentially purchased her presence?
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Chapter 5

She wondered why Mr. Cagliari wanted to see her. Mr. Turner pressed the button to open the private elevator.

"Are you sure? I can take the stairs," she suggested, but he stood firm.

As they made their way up, her mind ran in circles, trying to understand why the CEO wanted to see her.

She hadn't received any complaints so far and saw no reason for him to want to see her. She would only know once she arrived. Once again, she found herself on the fourth floor of the company, the executive floor. This was the floor housing the offices of the president and the vice president, although she had never met the latter. They walked past the conference room to the end of the hall where a gold plaque on a door read: CEO.

"You may go in," Turner gestured, opening the door for her. She stepped inside. The space was vast, furnished exquisitely with Italian pieces. She hadn't imagined a room could be so expansive.

Her eyes roamed the opulent space before landing on a seating arrangement near a large window. Her aunt sat on one of the plush couches, Mr. Cagliari on another, and a third man she didn't recognize was seated beside him.

The couches were arranged around a sleek glass center table, upon which sat an envelope and mugs of coffee.

"Aunt," she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the large room. Mrs. Smith looked up, a warm smile gracing her lips. Mr. Cagliari also raised his eyes, as did the unknown man.

"My dear, why are you standing so far?" her aunt beckoned. But Ashleigh remained rooted to the spot, peering at Mr. Cagliari with unconcealed suspicion.

"What's this about, Aunt?" she questioned firmly, her gaze meeting Mr. Cagliari's head-on. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

He looked impeccably dressed today in a beige suit and matching shoes. His dark hair was slicked back, revealing a strong jawline accentuated by a neatly trimmed stubble that lent him a mature air. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, reaching for his cup of coffee on the table and sipping it nonchalantly.

"Won't you come closer? Or must we shout?"

Hesitantly, Ashleigh moved to sit beside her aunt, keeping a wary distance from Mr. Cagliari.

Adrian took a long, assessing look at her. Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she waited for him to speak, her hands clutching her aunt's clothes tightly.

"Ashleigh, your aunt and I have been discussing things before you arrived," he remarked. She turned to her aunt, who avoided her gaze.

"I have a proposition for you—a marriage proposal," he stated, the words hanging in the air, and Ashleigh couldn't mask her shock.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" she asked, staring at him in disbelief.

"I am asking you to marry me," he repeated firmly, and a startled laugh escaped her lips.

This man seemed completely out of touch with reality. Who talks about marriage so casually?

"I'm sorry, it's just... it sounds like a joke. Is it? Can you tell a better one?" Her smile quickly faded, replaced by a serious expression. Her aunt started to intervene, but Ashleigh cut her off. "No, Aunt, I need to speak to him." She held Adrian's gaze.

"Well, Mr. Cagliari," she began, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone, "why exactly do you want to marry me?" A wry smile touched his lips.

"Miss Hartman, I have a pressing need, and I believe you suit those requirements," he replied, his eyes sweeping over her in a considering manner.

Ashleigh was bewildered by the absurdity of the situation, even more so that her aunt had apparently heard this nonsense and hadn't immediately dismissed it.

"Aunt," she inquired, her voice incredulous, "did you hear what he just said?" Mrs. Smith let out a low sigh.

"Well, Ashleigh dear, I've heard everything, and I want you to consider it as well," she responded, her voice softening as Ashleigh's disbelief deepened.

"Look, Ashleigh, it's not a bad offer," her aunt continued, trying to sound encouraging.

"He has promised to care for you and compensate you when the contract is over." Ashleigh shifted away from her aunt, a sense of betrayal washing over her.

"Miss Hartman, I am Mr. Cagliari's lawyer and legal representative. I have the marriage contract here," the man who had been observing silently finally spoke.

He reached into the envelope and placed a document in front of her. Ashleigh sat silently, her eyes fixed on the bold letters at the top: MARRIAGE AGREEMENT CONTRACT.

"Ashleigh, I know this is a lot to take in," Adrian added, his gaze steady on her still figure.

"I want you to think carefully. During the time you are my legal wife, you and your aunt will be fully taken care of. Consider it a favor." Ashleigh finally raised her head to look directly at him, a spark of anger igniting in her eyes.

"Did I ask you for a favor, Mr. Cagliari? There are a thousand women who would jump at this opportunity, but I am not one of them. And don't you ever approach me with such a proposition again," she said through clenched teeth, turning abruptly to leave.

She had reached the door when Adrian's voice stopped her.

"Miss Hartman... or is that your real name?"

She turned sharply, a fierce glint in her eyes. "What?"

"You think you're just an orphan? Then your aunt hasn't been entirely truthful with you, has she?" Adrian taunted, a knowing look in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asked in a hushed tone, her heart pounding. He stood up to face her, his presence suddenly looming.

This was the question that had always been a thorn in her side. She longed to know about her birth parents but lacked the resources to find out, a desire buried at the back of her mind, something she hoped to pursue after saving enough money.

She had lived her life day by day at the orphanage until her aunt appeared one day. Until now, whenever she had asked her aunt or tried to broach the subject, her aunt had fiercely shut it down, insisting her parents were dead and there was no reason to discuss it.

Her aunt had told her no stories of her parents, their hometown, or their families, explaining that it was for the best.

Looking at Adrian Cagliari, a chilling certainty washed over her: there was far more to her story than she knew.

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