You’d gone from an ambitious, struggling young woman to the flawless accessory on his arm, paraded through parties, strategic meetings, and even his brother’s wedding. You were his “girl,” and in exchange for your company, he gave you a generous salary and anything else you desired.

It was meant to be a simple transaction: a beautiful face for a bank account. It was supposed to stay like that. The job had cardinal rules, designed to maintain distance and prevent messy feelings:

1- no physical display of affection when they were alone 2- no sharing personal information 3- absolute secrecy about their arrangement.

But you were curious by nature, you asked questions, and Harry Castillo, a profoundly lonely man, answered them. He could buy anything he wanted, but couldn't buy the one thing he craved most: love.

"I find it incredibly difficult." He'd confessed one time over dinner.

The shift began when you saw past the wealth, noticing the unhappiness beneath the expensive suits. He began to feel less like a transaction and more like a man. And he, too, was beginning to lose his footing.

He was starved for the attention and affection he hadn't known he craved. The final boundary didn't break when he first accepted you in his bed. The rules held for a long time. But when he finally gave in, allowed himself to feel, the contract was shredded.

He fell for you, quick and intense. The depth of it terrified you both. He couldn't claim you publicly, not long-term, not without questions about your past arrangement. And you knew, with a certainty that chilled you, that no one would ever let you forget how this relationship had started.

"Why didn't you stop him?!" The shout echoed as the door slammed behind you.

Harry slowly untied his silk knot, his jaw tight. "I didn't tell anyone. Adam was drunk and he blurted it out. What did you want? A scene? I can't call my brother a liar in front of my board members."

"You let them treat me like dirt." The shame burned your throat. "You let them reduce me to a check!"

He threw the tie onto the floor. "And what else are you?" His voice was cold, void of the emotion he usually reserved for you. "You were a hire. You always were."

He watched the light drain from your eyes, and a wave of nausea hit him. He knew he was hurting you. He could see the devastation he'd inflicted, and the sight was a mirror of his own cowardice.

But after tonight, after Adam's loose tongue had exposed their arrangement to the world, Harry knew they couldn't keep pretending. He had to remind her, and himself, that this was a business deal, and the contract was all that remained.