The Dominant Ceo's New Contract : The Ruthless Tycoon's Fifty Shades Contract

Nora's POV

"Your vitals are looking much better, Ms. Ashfield."Dr. Patel scribbled something on his clipboard without looking up. "You had us worried for a while."

"I had myself worried,"I said.

He smiled. "You're lucky to have such a devoted boyfriend. He was here every single day. Sometimes twice."He finally looked up. "Were you thinking about him? Studies show that emotional anchors significantly speed up recovery."

I laughed a little. "Maybe."

"Well, whatever you were doing, keep doing it. You're free to go."

I called Yuna the moment I stepped outside.

It rang four times and went to voicemail.

Of course.

I tried again. Voicemail.

I stared at my phone for a second, then typed: Discharged. Don't panic. Call me back.

She didn't call back.

I stood outside St. Mercy's with my overnight bag and two weeks of recycled hospital air still in my lungs, and I made a decision. Derek's office was across town but his apartment was twelve minutes away. I could go home, shower, change, do this properly.

Or I could surprise him right now, looking exactly like this — pale, slightly too thin, still wearing the hoodie he'd dropped off last Thursday.

I flagged a cab.

He'd been here every day. Twice some days. The least I could do was show up unannounced with a smile.

The cab driver talked the whole ride about his daughter's university fees. I nodded in the right places and watched the city move past the window.

Twelve minutes felt very short.

I paid, tipped generously, and took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor.

Derek's door was open.

Not wide open. Just slightly, like someone had pulled it shut and it hadn't caught. I frowned. Derek didn't leave doors open. Derek didn't leave anything open — every drawer closed, every cabinet shut, every surface clear. It was the thing we'd argued about most in two years. I used to joke that he'd iron his socks if he could.

I pushed the door in slowly.

The living room was wrong.

A throw pillow on the floor. His laptop open on the coffee table, which he never did. A wine glass on the kitchen counter, no coaster. Two wine glasses.

My eyes moved to the hallway.

A dress. Black, crumpled against the baseboard like it had been stepped out of in a hurry. And next to it — underwear. Red lace.

My stomach dropped before my brain caught up.

I knew that dress. I had told Sienna she looked beautiful in it three days ago, right here in this building, when she'd stopped by the hospital on her way to dinner.

On her way to dinner.

My chest started doing something strange. A tightening, like my ribs were slowly closing in. I stood in the middle of his living room and I could not move.

Then I heard her laugh. From the bedroom. Low and easy, like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

And then his voice.

"—she won't find out. She's too trusting. That's always been her problem."

I stopped breathing.

"Two more months."Sienna's voice. Lazy, satisfied. "Just get through the engagement announcement and then you can file whatever you want. The inheritance transfers regardless."

"She'll lose it,"Derek said. Not worried. Almost amused.

"She'll cry and call me about it."A pause. The rustle of sheets. "Let her. We'll be in Bali."

The tightening in my chest became something else entirely.

I pushed the bedroom door open.

I didn't scream. I didn't throw anything.

I just stood there.

Derek saw me first. The color left his face so fast I almost felt sorry for him. He scrambled, pulling the sheet up, saying my name like it was an apology and an explanation at once.

"Nora — Nora, wait, this isn't—"

"Don't."My voice came out very quiet. I didn't recognize it.

Sienna sat up slowly. She didn't reach for the sheet. She looked at me the way you look at someone who's shown up at the wrong party — mildly inconvenienced. Nothing else.

"Nora,"Derek said again, standing now, reaching for his jeans. "Please. Just let me explain. It's not what you think, it's—"

"You were going to let me find out at the engagement announcement?"I asked. "Was that the plan?"

His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

I looked at Sienna. "Eight months?"

She tilted her head. "Give or take."

"You sat next to my hospital bed,"I said. "Four days ago. You held my hand when they changed the IV line."

Something crossed her face. Almost guilt. Then it was gone.

"Nora."Her voice was patient. Careful. Like she was explaining something to someone slow. "You have to understand, what you and Derek had — it was comfortable. You were comfortable. That's not the same as right."

"Sienna—"Derek started.

"No, she should hear this."She looked at me steadily. "You've always made it so easy for people to take from you. You're generous and trusting and you never ask for anything and you think that makes you a good person."She paused. "It just makes you easy."

The room was absolutely silent.

"We're getting married,"she said. "Two weeks from Saturday. You'll get an invitation."A small shrug. "Whether you come is up to you."

I walked out.

Down the hallway, past the black dress and the red underwear, through the living room, out the front door.

"Nora."Derek's voice behind me. He'd followed, half-dressed, into the corridor. "Please. Just stop. Let me talk to you. I do care about you — it got complicated, but I care—"

I pressed the elevator button.

"She doesn't mean it like that. What she said, she didn't mean it."

The elevator opened.

I stepped in.

"Nora, say something. Please. Say something."

The doors closed between us.

Behind me, just before they shut completely, I heard Sienna's voice drift from the apartment.

"Let her go, Derek. She'll forgive you. She always does."