The contract

Eli’s heart pounded so loudly it felt like it was echoing in the empty hallway.

Lucien Vale stood too close.

Too calm.

Too dangerous.

Eli forced himself to breathe. “I didn’t see anything,” he repeated quickly. “I swear. I was just passing by.”

Lucien didn’t respond immediately. His dark eyes studied Eli like he was solving a problem only he could see. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Lucien released his grip—but didn’t step back.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said quietly.

Eli frowned. “Then what—”

“You saw enough,” Lucien interrupted.

Eli stiffened. “I won’t tell anyone.”

A faint, almost unreadable expression passed over Lucien’s face. Not anger. Not relief. Something colder.

“I don’t need promises,” Lucien said. “I need certainty.”

Eli’s stomach tightened. “What does that even mean?”

Lucien tilted his head slightly. “Come with me.”

Before Eli could refuse, Lucien turned and walked down the hallway as if he already knew he would be followed.

And somehow, against his better judgment, Eli followed.

They entered a private lounge on the top floor of the building. The room was too clean, too expensive, too quiet. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the storm outside, lightning flashing over the city.

Lucien gestured to a chair.

“Sit.”

Eli didn’t move. “I don’t take orders from you.”

A brief pause.

Then Lucien looked at him again—slower this time.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said, “because right now, your situation depends entirely on me.”

Eli’s jaw tightened. “What are you talking about?”

Lucien walked to the window, hands in his pockets.

“You’re a scholarship student,” he said. “Working part-time. Barely sleeping. Your mother is in Westbridge General Hospital, correct?”

Eli froze.

“How do you—”

“I know a lot of things,” Lucien interrupted calmly. “Including what happens if your scholarship is questioned… or withdrawn.”

Eli’s blood went cold.

“You’re threatening me?”

Lucien turned slightly. “No.”

A pause.

“I’m offering you a solution.”

Eli let out a short, humorless laugh. “A solution? You just stalked my entire life.”

Lucien’s expression didn’t change. “Call it what you want.”

He stepped closer again, slower this time. Controlled.

“Here’s the offer,” Lucien said. “You become my boyfriend.”

Eli blinked. “Excuse me?”

“A contract,” Lucien corrected. “Public. Temporary. Convincing.”

Eli stared at him like he had lost his mind. “You’re insane.”

“Six months,” Lucien continued. “You stay close to me. Act like we’re dating. In return, your tuition is covered. Your mother’s treatment is paid for. And your academic record stays untouched.”

The room went silent except for the rain against the glass.

Eli’s fists clenched. “And if I refuse?”

Lucien looked at him for a long moment.

“You won’t,” he said simply.

Something about the certainty in his voice made Eli’s chest tighten.

Not because it was comforting.

Because it was true.

Eli swallowed hard. “You can’t just buy people like this.”

Lucien’s gaze darkened slightly.

“I’m not buying you,” he said. “I’m securing silence.”

A beat.

Then softer, almost quiet:

“And control.”

Eli hated how honest that was.

He looked away, breathing unevenly.

“I don’t trust you,” Eli muttered.

Lucien stepped back slightly, giving him space for the first time.

“You don’t need to,” he said. “You just need to survive.”

Silence stretched between them again.

Eli closed his eyes briefly.

He thought of his mother.

The hospital bills.

The overdue fees.

The scholarship review next month.

Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes.

“…Six months?” he asked.

Lucien nodded once.

Eli exhaled sharply.

“Fine.”

Lucien’s expression didn’t change—but something in the room shifted.

“Good,” he said.

Then he added, almost softly:

“Welcome to the contract.”

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