The Love i contracted

Chapter 13: Playing with Fire

Serena barely had time to process Nathaniel's words before he stepped back, already dialing a number on his phone.

"Have the PR team draft a statement," he ordered. "I want full damage control within the hour."

Serena's mind raced. If the world wants a love story, let's give them one.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she demanded.

Nathaniel hung up, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. "We're going to shut Adrian down. Publicly."

Serena frowned. "By pretending to be madly in love?"

Nathaniel's smirk was slow and deliberate. "Something like that."

She crossed her arms. "And if I refuse?"

Nathaniel stepped closer, tilting her chin up with two fingers. "Then Adrian wins."

Her breath hitched.

She hated that he was right.

Adrian had played his move, and now the world was watching. If she pushed Nathaniel away, it would only confirm the rumors.

Serena exhaled sharply. "Fine. Let's do this."

Nathaniel's smirk deepened. "Good girl."

Serena scowled. "I told you not to call me that."

He chuckled. "Then stop reacting every time I do."

She wanted to slap the smug look off his face. Instead, she turned and marched toward her closet. "If I'm going to sell this fairytale, I need to look the part."

Nathaniel's voice followed her, low and amused. "Now you're learning."

---

The first step of their counterattack? A public display of affection—something the media couldn't ignore.

That evening, Serena found herself on Nathaniel's arm, stepping into a high-profile charity gala, cameras flashing all around them.

She wore a crimson silk gown, fitted in all the right places, her hair styled in elegant waves. She had expected Nathaniel to keep a respectable distance, but the moment they entered, he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.

"Smile, wife," he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "We have an audience."

Serena forced a dazzling smile as they walked forward, Nathaniel's hand firmly on her waist. She wasn't used to this—being the center of attention. But Nathaniel? He thrived under it.

He played his role too well, whispering things in her ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make it believable. And maybe it was.

Because the more he touched her, the harder it became to remember it was all an act.

Halfway through the night, Serena excused herself, stepping onto the balcony for air.

She barely had a moment to breathe before a familiar voice sent a chill down her spine.

"You play the part beautifully."

Serena turned—Adrian Locke.

He stood a few feet away, holding a glass of whiskey, watching her with amusement.

Serena straightened. "I don't recall inviting you to this conversation."

Adrian smirked. "You didn't. But I had to congratulate you. That was quite the performance."

Serena clenched her jaw. "It's not a performance."

Adrian chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Of course not."

She turned to leave, but his next words made her pause.

"How long do you think he'll keep up the act?"

Serena stiffened.

Adrian continued, his voice smooth as silk. "Nathaniel doesn't do love, Serena. He uses people. And when they stop being useful, he discards them."

Serena turned, eyes flashing. "And you think you're different?"

Adrian's smirk never wavered. "No. But I am honest about it."

Serena's chest tightened.

She hated that his words got to her.

Before she could reply, a new voice cut through the tension.

"Something amusing, Locke?"

Nathaniel.

He stepped onto the balcony, his expression unreadable, but the storm in his dark eyes was unmistakable.

Adrian's smirk widened. "Not at all. Just offering your lovely wife some… friendly advice."

Nathaniel chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You and I have very different definitions of friendly."

Adrian tilted his head. "You can't protect her forever, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel's smirk faded, his jaw clenching. "Try me."

The tension was suffocating.

Then, as if sensing he had gotten under Nathaniel's skin, Adrian drained the rest of his drink and stepped past him.

"I'll be seeing you, Serena," he murmured before disappearing into the party.

The second he was gone, Nathaniel turned to her. "Are you okay?"

Serena exhaled sharply. "I can handle myself."

Nathaniel studied her, his gaze lingering. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his thumb over her lower lip.

Serena froze.

"Lipstick," he murmured, his voice softer now.

Her breath hitched. She knew she should step back. But she didn't.

Because for the first time…

It didn't feel like part of the act.

--

That night, Serena couldn't sleep.

Adrian's words haunted her. Nathaniel doesn't do love. He uses people.

But it wasn't just Adrian getting under her skin. It was Nathaniel, too.

The way he had touched her. The way he had looked at her.

She needed clarity.

So, without overthinking, she knocked on his bedroom door.

A moment later, it opened.

Nathaniel stood shirtless, his muscular chest and defined abs on full display. His black hair was slightly tousled, his sharp jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble. He looked devastatingly handsome—and completely unbothered by the fact that she was standing in his doorway at midnight.

Serena swallowed. "I need to ask you something."

Nathaniel leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "At midnight? I'm intrigued."

Serena hesitated. Then, forcing herself to meet his gaze, she asked, "Is this still a game to you?"

Nathaniel's smirk faltered.

For a long moment, he just studied her.

Then, finally, he exhaled and stepped aside. "Come in."

Serena's heart pounded.

Because she had a feeling—

Once she crossed that threshold, nothing would ever be the same.

Serena hesitated at the threshold. She had come here for answers, but standing in front of a shirtless Nathaniel in the dim glow of his bedroom felt like stepping into dangerous territory.

Still, she took a breath and stepped inside.

Nathaniel shut the door behind her with a soft click.

"You're not going to run now, are you?" he murmured, his deep voice laced with amusement.

Serena lifted her chin. "No."

He smirked but didn't push. Instead, he moved to the bar cart in the corner, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "You want one?"

Serena shook her head. She needed a clear mind.

Nathaniel took a slow sip before leaning against the edge of his desk. "So, tell me. What exactly do you want to ask?"

Serena folded her arms. "Are you playing me?"

Nathaniel's expression didn't change, but she saw the flicker of something in his eyes.

"What makes you ask that?"

She let out a sharp breath. "Adrian said you don't do love. That you use people until they're no longer useful."

Nathaniel exhaled slowly, setting his drink down. "And you believed him?"

Serena hesitated. "I don't know what to believe."

He studied her for a long moment. Then, in a move so sudden it made her breath hitch, he closed the space between them.

"Do you think I'm using you?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

Serena's pulse thundered in her ears. "I don't know."

Nathaniel's fingers skimmed her arm, light as a feather. "Then let me make it clear."

Before she could react, he reached for her wrist and gently placed her hand over his heart.

Serena's breath caught. His skin was warm beneath her palm, and beneath it—his heart was racing.

Nathaniel smirked. "You feel that?"

Serena swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Then tell me…" His gaze darkened. "Am I playing you, or are you getting under my skin?"

Serena couldn't answer. Because for the first time, she wasn't sure who was playing who.

--

Serena barely slept that night.

Nathaniel hadn't kissed her. Hadn't even touched her beyond that moment.

But that was the problem.

Because somehow, the tension between them—the unspoken words, the heated looks—was far more dangerous than anything physical.

By morning, she had convinced herself it didn't mean anything.

She had bigger problems to deal with.

Like Adrian.

And the fact that the media was still running wild with the story of her so-called secret meeting with him.

So, when she stepped into the dining room and found Nathaniel already seated, sipping his morning coffee like nothing had happened, she forced herself to act normal.

"Morning," she said, sitting across from him.

Nathaniel barely looked up from his phone. "You're up early."

Serena shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

His lips twitched. "I wonder why."

She shot him a glare. "It wasn't because of you."

Nathaniel finally met her gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "If you say so."

Serena huffed, grabbing a piece of toast. "Shouldn't we be focused on handling the Adrian situation?"

Nathaniel leaned back, completely unfazed. "Already taken care of."

Serena frowned. "What do you mean?"

Nathaniel slid his phone across the table. Serena glanced at the screen—her stomach flipping at the headline.

"ASHFORD POWER COUPLE SHUTS DOWN RUMORS WITH A ROMANTIC NIGHT OUT—ARE THEY THE REAL DEAL?"

Attached was a picture of them at last night's gala, Nathaniel whispering into her ear, his hand possessively on her waist.

Serena's face heated.

Nathaniel smirked, watching her reaction. "Looks like the world believes our love story."

Serena set the phone down, exhaling. "So that's it? The problem is solved?"

Nathaniel's smirk faded slightly. "Not quite."

Serena frowned. "What do you mean?"

Nathaniel's expression darkened. "Adrian won't back down that easily. And now that he knows you're my weakness…"

Serena's breath hitched. "Your weakness?"

Nathaniel held her gaze. "Yes, Serena. My weakness."

Serena's heart pounded.

She had walked into this marriage as part of a deal. A contract.

But now…

She wasn't sure if she was falling into something much more dangerous.

---