Page 21 of His By Contract

The engine hummed softly. Traffic moved around them, oblivious to the weight of this moment. The driver remained still, neither encouraging nor discouraging, simply waiting.

Step forward or step back. Cross this line or retreat to safety. Georgia’s pulse roared in her ears as she stared at that open door, knowing whatever choice she made now would ripple through her carefully constructed world.

The car slowed to a stop outside a modern glass building. No signage, no obvious markers of ownership or purpose. Just clean lines stretching toward the sky, reflecting the morning sun like a mirror.

Georgia’s heels clicked against polished concrete as she followed the driver through a side entrance. The lobby held the same anonymous elegance. Expensive but forgettable, designed to fade from memory the moment you looked away.

The elevator rose silently. No music, no indicators of passing floors. Just smooth ascension until the doors opened to reveal a reception area as stark as everything else.

Her guide led her through double doors into a conference room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the city below, but the glass was tinted, keeping the outside world at a distance.

Richard Vaughn sat at the head of a table, his attention fixed on a document before him. He didn’t look up as Georgia entered, didn’t acknowledge her presence until the door clicked shut behind her.

“You came.” His voice carried no surprise, no pleasure, just calm certainty. “Bold move, considering what’s at stake.”

Georgia’s fingers curled around the strap of her bag. The air felt thin up here, making her lungs work harder with each shallow pull.

“But then,” Vaughn continued, finally raising his eyes to meet hers, “you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t ready to consider alternatives.”

He gestured to the chair across from him. Not close enough for intimacy, not far enough to suggest fear. The perfect distance for business.

“I know what it cost you to walk through that door.” His words cut through the silence. “The risks, the potential consequences. Adrian’s reaction when he discovers this meeting.” He paused, letting that reality settle between them. “Which makes me certain you’re prepared to listen to what I have to offer.”

Georgia’s skin prickled as Vaughn’s eyes traveled over her face, calculating, assessing. Not as a woman, but as something to be quantified.

“Your situation with Adrian isn’t unique.” Vaughn’s fingers traced the edge of a leather portfolio. “A beautiful woman in need, a powerful man with resources. A contract drawn up, terms negotiated.”

Her throat tightened. The knowledge sat heavy in her chest. He knew. About the arrangement, about her desperation, about everything she’d tried to hide behind the facade of a society marriage.

“I can offer you freedom.” He slid a document across the polished table. “Your mother’s care guaranteed for life. Your business, independent and thriving. No strings, no control.”

Georgia’s fingers hovered near the paper’s edge, her knuckles white with tension. The promise of escape beckoned, sweet and terrifying.

“But let’s be honest about what you are.” His voice dropped lower, intimate in its cruelty. “Adrian didn’t marry you for love. He acquired you. Like a painting, a property, an investment to be managed.”

The words sliced through her defenses, laying bare the truth she’d tried to ignore.

“You’re an asset.” Vaughn’s shadow fell across the table as he closed the distance between them. “One that could be… reallocated. After all, if Adrian views you as property, why shouldn’t others do the same?”

Georgia’s chest constricted. The offer of freedom twisted into something darker, revealing the trap beneath. She wasn’t escaping ownership; she was being traded, like stocks between powerful men.

Georgia clenched her hands in her lap. “What do you want from me?”

Vaughn’s lips curved, but it was far from a genuine smile. He sat back, creating space between them, letting silence fill the void.

“Want? Nothing immediate.” His fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the table. “Consider this an investment in possibilities.”

The morning sun caught the silver at his temples, casting shadows across his face. He didn’t press, didn’t try to convince her. The offer lingered between them, its meaning sharp enough to cut.

“You have options, Georgia.” His voice softened, almost gentle. “Walk out that door. Go home to Adrian. Live the life he’s crafted for you. This meeting never happened.”

She drew a sharp breath, tasting the metallic edge of fear on her tongue.

“Or stay. Listen. Learn what else might be possible.” Vaughn’s gaze held hers, steady and unflinching. “Take time to consider. Days, weeks if needed. The choice is yours. But remember this—Adrian’s power isn’t absolute. He built his empire on other people’s fears, their desperation.” His words cut through the air like steel. “Even kings fall, Georgia. Sometimes all it takes is one crack in the foundation.”

Georgia traced the edge of Vaughn’s document, her heart pounding against her ribs. The choice stretched before her like a chasm: freedom or revenge, escape or destruction.

“Think about it.” Vaughn’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Your brand, your name on boutiques across the city. No more asking permission, no more watching Adrian claim your success as his own.”

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