Chapter 16
Morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, spilling into the bedroom.
When Kinsley woke, Aaron’s chest was pressed against her back.
His arm looped firmly around her waist, his breathing steady and rhythmic.
Fragments of last night came rushing back like a rising tide:
The sound of water in the bathroom, him whispering her name, their bodies losing all sense of control…
It played over and over until she was spent, completely melted beneath him.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
To him, what was that? Alcohol?
Indulgence?
A momentary impulse?
But to her, it was the raw, hidden depth of her feelings surfacing.
She turned over, moving with the utmost care, and watched him at close range.
In sleep, his brow was smoothed, and his usually sharp features softened.
Who would have guessed that those eyes, so cold in the daylight, could be so filled with tenderness last night?
She reached out, tracing the line of his jaw and the faint stubble on his cheeks.
She couldn’t help herself.
She leaned in and pressed a light, lingering kiss to his lips.
Aaron’s lashes flickered.
She quickly pulled back, retreating to her spot.
She was so close she could hear the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
This feels so good.
Just as she was savoring the moment, the arm around her waist tightened.
She looked up and met Aaron’s gaze.
“Morning,” she whispered, her voice soft.
“Morning.”
His voice was raspy.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then let go and sat up.
That brief flicker of tenderness made her heart ache with warmth.
She hugged him from behind, her arms winding around his waist.
“Just a few more minutes?” she asked.
She wanted to stay, even if it meant just lying there in the silence.
He paused for a second, stroking her hair.
“It’s going to be a busy day at the office.”
His tone had already shifted back to his usual cool, restrained register.
He walked into the bathroom.
As the warm water hit his skin, he suddenly stiffened.
Last night, their frenzy with Kinsley… he hadn’t used condom.
Images of their intimacy flashed through his mind, and his breathing grew heavy.
He shut his eyes.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
It certainly wasn’t in the contract.
He shouldn’t have made such a mistake.
Everything had to remain under control.
When he emerged, Kinsley was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Aaron walked over and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry. I was reckless last night,” he said, his voice eerily calm.
“I’ll have the housekeeper prepare some emergency contraception for you.”
Kinsley went rigid in his arms, her smile freezing on her face.
That “sorry” felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.
“I’ll take care of it myself,” she said, offering a smile.
It was a smile far too natural—so natural that he didn’t even notice the hairline fracture in her tone.
“This went beyond our previous agreement. I don’t want you to carry any unnecessary risks.”
Agreement.
Risks.
The last spark of warmth in her eyes flickered out.
“It’s fine. I’ll handle it,” she replied briskly. “
Last night was just a physical need. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Aaron looked momentarily stunned.
She had already pulled away from his embrace.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, to soothe her, but his hand hung in mid-air as she walked away.
He could feel her coldness, her rejection.
The way she moaned under me yesterday was so beautiful; it made me believe for a second that she might actually love me.
But after one night, everything changed.
Was she just completing a ‘task’ last night?
Damn this ‘work’! I never should have used that to bind her!
In the walk-in closet, Kinsley leaned against the mirror.
His kisses were so hot, his voice pierced straight to my soul.
I almost believed it wasn’t just “professional companionship.”
But the reality of this morning makes it clear:
I overthought it again.
Her heart ached with a suffocating tightness.
She cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, forcing herself to take deep, jagged breaths.
Finally, her emotions leveled out. She offered the reflection a faint, hollow smile.
Don’t be a fool.
The breakfast room echoed only with the light clinking of cutlery.
Kinsley fried a sunny-side-up egg and served it to Aaron.
“Thank you.”
When he looked up at her, she had already turned away to take her seat, offering no reply.
Kinsley buried her head in her toast, spreading jam, chewing slowly.
The air in the room was thick enough to stifle them.
“I’m done. Goodbye.”
She had barely taken a few bites before she tried to leave.
Aaron’s hand slipped, and his knife gouged an irregular line through the egg yolk.
“Wait—” he called out. “Where are you going?”
“To the university. I have classes every day.”
“Don’t go. Take a leave of absence.”
She stopped.
“Why?”
“The incident from yesterday might continue to stir up trouble. If you’re on campus, you might be targeted.”
She gave a cold laugh.
“So what? Our marriage registration is legal; they can’t catch us in any wrongdoing.”
“The law and public opinion are two different things. You could be harassed, even swarmed.”
He tapped his mouth with a napkin.
“Staying home is safest.”
“Safest?” she stared at him. “Or most convenient for you to control?”
She turned and walked toward the door.
Aaron followed in a few long strides, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.
She didn’t adjust her footing in time and slammed into his sturdy chest, the impact stinging her face.
She rubbed her nose, glaring at him irritably.
“I have to ensure your safety.”
“You’re just managing risk,” she corrected him.
His brow darkened.
“The result is the same.”
“It’s not,” she looked at him. “You’re just afraid of ‘an accident’.”
He remained silent.
Kinsley suddenly asked, “How long do I have to hide?
“A week? Or until the day the contract ends?”
“Until I decide the time is right.”
“That’s not in the contract.”
“I can offer compensation.”
Money.
The word remained unspoken, but it hung heavy in the air.
Her heart went cold.
“I don’t want compensation.”
She bypassed him, but he caught her wrist again.
This time, she didn’t struggle; she simply looked up at him.
Her gaze was so chilling it made his heart shrink.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Trust me.”
She didn’t respond.
The car door closed.
Aaron slumped back against the seat, eyes closed for two seconds.
His phone vibrated in his palm.
He didn’t answer.
His mind was filled with her words from moments ago—
“You are managing risk.“
He gripped his phone.
He only wanted to ensure her safety.
So why did her eyes look at him as if he were nothing more than a cold-blooded employer?