Elara stared at the heavy vellum contract on the mahogany desk, then up at Julian Thorne. He was the kind of man who looked like he’d been carved out of granite and expensive cologne.
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"It’s simple, Elara," Julian said, his voice a low vibration that made her stomach do a nervous flip. "Three months. Four charity galas. One family weekend at the Hamptons. In exchange, your brother’s medical debt vanishes." Elara stared at the heavy vellum contract on
Elara swallowed hard. She was just his executive assistant—the one who made sure his espresso was exactly 165 degrees and his schedule was airtight. Now, he wanted her to be his fiancée to appease a board of directors who thought he was too much of a "wild card" to remain CEO. "And the rules?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. The Contract Clause (An Original Story) "It’s simple,
"Is that all this is?" she asked, the words out before she could stop them. "A job?"