When he hands it back to me, my stomach flips. “Those aren’t the usual terms.”
Sean smirks at me. “I’m an unusual man. Besides, fucking a married woman once in a while would be hot. And in the meantime, you have your best friend close by.”
My heart pounds harder. I didn’t come here expecting this, but I’m not backing down. I snatch the pen and add a few terms and then push it back at him. “Oh,” tapping the pen to my lips, I add, “and my fee is doubled since your terms are so specific.” I don’t expect him to go for it. I think I’m just calling his bluff—because marrying Trystan Scott is insane.
“And let me guess, you’re cutting Black out of the deal?” Sean watches me with those blue eyes, slowly sliding them up and down my body as I write.
I don’t look up. “Maybe.”
“She’ll come after you if she finds out.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Jones?” I step toward him and raise a brow, holding the paper in one hand.
“It is. If you don’t follow through with your end, Black will find out and you won’t like what happens next.” The threat doesn’t feel hollow, but the smile on his face negates his menace. Sean’s hand strokes the edge of my cheek and dips down my neck, lingering above my chest.
We’re back at the beginning, and it kills me.
I thought we’d come so far, but I’m back to signing contracts and agreeing to be his sex toy. That’s exactly what the terms stipulate—I belong to him and agree to do what he says—including being Trystan’s girlfriend and maybe more.
Softly, I ask, “Trystan knows?”
Sean nods, and moves around behind me. Whispering in my ear, he says, “Sign it.” His hands are wrapped around my middle and his warm breath makes me want to melt into him. I want so many things in this moment, but the one that screams the loudest is that I wish he was real, I wish this was real.
I’m caught in the middle with no way out, and unsure as to whether or not Sean means to harm me, so I take the pen and scrawl my signature across the page. I don’t think he'd hurt me, but after everything that’s happened, who the hell knows? I can’t chance it. Even exhausted, I have to keep playing along and trying to see where this road ends.
Sean snatches the paper away, and then tugs me to him. “Your payment, Miss Smith.” He takes large bills from his wallet and tucks them in my waistband. “The contract is complete.”
My stomach has fallen into my shoes. I can’t believe we're back at the beginning again. It’s like the first night I worked for Black and walked over to his table. When he realized I was the call girl, he was furious. He thought he'd been played by someone he trusted. That must be what I’m feeling now. Swallowing hard I ask, “So, now what?”
“Now, I give you something that I know will make you smile.” Sean turns to his desk and pulls out a small present. “Open it.”
“You bought me a present?” I stare at it, not bothering to hide the disbelief on my face. This is weird. I don’t know what to make of him.
It’s as if Sean can read my mind, because he says, “Just open it. Remember, you belong to me. Do as I say and don’t ask questions.” Sean folds his arms over his chest and leans in closer, obviously excited.
As I rip the paper, I mutter, “If this is a dog collar, we’re going to have a serious conversation—oh my God.” It’s a dark frame and under the sheet of glass is a diploma with the name AVERY ANNA STANZ, complete with signatures and an embossed stamp.
I stare at it in disbelief. All the air has been stripped from my lungs and I can’t breathe. I sacrificed everything for this and it still slipped between my fingers. I can't even manage a full sentence. “How? I never finished my finals. How did you get this? Is it even real?”
Sean laughs. “Yes, it’s real. You worked your ass off for that. I told the Dean that your roommate died and that it was your final semester. He said that there was a bereavement policy that would allow you to pass your classes, which in turn earned you the degree. Someone just had to file the paperwork.”
“You filed the paperwork?” He nods. Suddenly I feel sick. I worked my butt off for this and it’s tainted with blood. My mouth is hanging open, staring in shock. “So, this is because Amber died? I get to graduate and her family gets nothing. Sean, this is wrong, I can’t accept this—”
He takes my hands gently, as if he knows I'm about to lose it. I’ve been held together by a thread for so long and it’s beyond frayed. “Avery, you earned this. If Amber and her boyfriend lived—if no one was hunting you like a fucking animal—then you would have gone to class. You would have gotten higher grades than the university gave you.” He reaches for my shoulder, lifting a strand of hair, letting it slip between his fingers. “There’s a reason they have that rule in place, and it’s for people like you. You worked so hard and have come so far, despite everything that was thrown your way. Most people would have quit. You didn’t.”