My contract love story

In the following days, the whispers surrounding Ashleigh’s resignation faded to a dull hum. Assigned to the executive floor, she found the pace far more relaxed. Fewer offices meant less hustle and bustle, and the remaining space was dedicated to conference rooms and media events. The only real disruption was the constant presence of the company owner himself.

Back home that night, after hours of stewing in silence, Ashleigh made a decision. She wouldn’t let Adrian turn her into a pawn in his elaborate game. Until she found a way to regain the upper hand, silent compliance seemed the best course of action.

Adrian, however, took full advantage of her presence on his floor. He piled on the tasks, transforming her workload into a relentless beast. Breaks were confined to the snack room, where Mr. Turner, ever dutiful, presented lunch for Adrian alongside a weary Ashleigh. Any lull in her schedule was promptly filled with nonsensical errands. By day’s end, she was a mindless automaton, collapsing into the car and driven home in a daze. Her friends’ complaints about their dwindling social life and her demanding workload went unanswered. Through it all, Ashleigh maintained an unsettling calm, a mask hiding the turmoil within.

Beyond the office walls, Adrian tightened his grip. Security measures underwent a meticulous revaluation, emerging even more stringent. The previously agreed-upon visits to her aunt and weekend outings were abruptly cancelled. Mr. Turner even replaced her phone with a more sophisticated model, its advanced tracking capabilities rendering the off switch useless. All this, a calculated effort to provoke a reaction a breakdown, a fight, anything. Yet, Ashleigh remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a complaint or outburst.

One afternoon, Ashleigh found herself crouched at the center table in Adrian’s office, attempting to reassemble a decorative piece that had inexplicably fallen apart just before her arrival. Its delicate nature made the task a humorous spectacle for Adrian, as each of her attempts ended in frustration. Finally, she gave up, her gaze meeting his for the first time in days. It was then, in that moment of quiet surrender, that Adrian heard her speak.

Ashleigh slumped onto the floor in the center of Adrian’s office, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. The centerpiece, a delicate arrangement that had “coincidentally” fallen apart before her arrival, mocked her from the coffee table.

“Mr. Cagliari,” she began, her voice tight with annoyance, “this isn’t working.”

A smirk played on Adrian’s lips a silent victory lap for finally eliciting a response from her. However, he maintained a cool facade, his gaze glued to his laptop screen.

“What?” he feigned ignorance, brow furrowed in mock concentration.

Exasperated, Ashleigh gathered the scattered pieces and rose to her feet. She marched over to his desk and, in a move that startled him, let her hand fall across his laptop, sending the centerpiece fragments cascading across its surface.

Adrian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking with Ashleigh’s. She stood defiant, arms crossed over her chest.

“This,” she emphasized, gesturing towards the mess, “and all these little tricks you’re pulling to keep me here.”

Adrian steepled his fingers, squinting at her. “This floor is your designated work area. Naturally, I expect you to be here during work hours.”

“It’s my lunch break,” she countered, her voice rising with each word. “I could be spending this time somewhere else, not reassembling these stupid things!”

“As I’ve repeatedly stated,” Adrian said, his tone clipped, “everything you need is readily available on this floor. Lunch was hours ago, rendering your point moot.”

Ashleigh scoffed. “Is this about my friends? You can’t control who I see outside of work. I agreed to stay here, didn’t I? Or are you afraid I’ll disappear again?” A flicker of surprise crossed her features at the thought.

“There’s no need to worry about an escape attempt,” Adrian replied coolly. “Extensive measures are in place to ensure you leave this building no earlier than 4 pm.”

Ashleigh scowled. He was right, of course. Recently, she’d noticed an increased security presence. New bodyguards patrolled the premises, and she suspected these were in addition to Adrian’s personal security detail. Then there were Jake and Tristan, the guards who’d failed to keep tabs on her during the trip. Their punishment, though unknown to her, had evidently been severe their heightened vigilance now bordering on paranoia.

“So, if it’s not about my friends, what is it?” Ashleigh pressed, her patience wearing thin.

Adrian met her gaze with a long, unreadable stare. He wouldn’t admit it was to hear her voice again, even if it was laced with anger and annoyance. He wouldn’t admit that the constant bickering and tension were preferable to the deafening silence that had settled over their lives since her forced resignation.

He merely shrugged. “Simple. You follow my instructions. Now, clean up this mess you created and reassemble the centerpiece according to my instructions.” His eyes held a glint of something unidentifiable, a hidden agenda beneath the surface.

Ashleigh stared back at him, a flicker of hope flickering in her eyes. Maybe he was just joking, maybe she wouldn’t have to clean up this mess after all. But as Adrian’s gaze remained unwavering and intense, the hope died. She wouldn’t have minded staying here a little longer, under his watchful eyes.

“You’re serious?” she finally blurted, exasperation lacing her voice.

He offered a curt nod, and with a sigh that spoke volumes, Ashleigh began collecting the scattered pieces. Adrian watched, his eyes drawn to the delicate movements of her hands as she picked up each fragment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Unlike the usual frustration etched on her face, this frown held an unexpected charm. A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes perhaps a little more teasing was in order.

Clad in the company uniform a crisp shirt tucked into trousers her hair cascading down her shoulders, Ashleigh stretched to reach a stray piece. In that moment, the necklace nestled against her wedding ring slipped out from beneath her blouse, dangling precariously.

“Can you help me with those on your laptop?” she queried, her voice soft.

Adrian met her gaze for a fleeting moment before shaking his head, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes playfully before maneuvering closer to his desk to retrieve the remaining pieces. The air crackled with a sudden awareness as she came within arm’s reach. A wisp of jasmine, the same fragrance from the night he’d held her close when she was sick, filled his senses. An unexpected urge to hold her again gripped him. He waited until she reached the far end of the desk, her hand outstretched for a piece, before subtly disrupting her balance.

With a startled gasp, Ashleigh found herself tumbling forward, landing squarely in Adrian’s arms. He instinctively wrapped them around her, their gazes locking in a charged moment. A flicker of awareness danced in Ashleigh’s eyes before she quickly averted them, her voice barely a whisper.

“Please, Mr. Cagliari,” she murmured, her voice tight with a mixture of emotions, pushing against his chest in a feeble attempt to create some distance. “Let me go.”

She attempted to push herself away, but his hold remained firm. A tense struggle ensued, her movements restricted by his embrace.

“Why?” he challenged, his voice laced with a dark humor.

“Is it because jt isn’t the boy from the other night holding you?”

Ashleigh’s head snapped up, a spark of defiance igniting in her eyes.

“So, now you have a reactions” he mused, a steely glint entering his gaze.

“I hate you!” Ashleigh punctuated by a ragged breath.

Adrian let out a humorless chuckle, his hands moving from her waist to gently cup her face. Beneath the anger that burned in his chest, a flicker of something more intense started to take root.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“You don’t hate me,” he countered, his voice husky as he drew her face closer. With each passing inch, he felt her resistance melt away, her body subconsciously curving into his. Her eyes gradually fluttered shut, a silent surrender to the unspoken tension.

The air hung heavy with a maelstrom of emotions. Emotions Adrian himself couldn’t quite decipher. What he did know, with a startling clarity, was a feeling far more potent than mere anger stirring within him. An unexpected desire, a raw need, pulsed through his veins as they hovered a mere breath apart. His other hand, acting on its own accord, tightened around her waist, eliciting a gasp from her. The space between them evaporated as they leaned in, a silent question hanging in the air…