Rejected Love, Contracted Life

ing Vance mansion. My 22nd birthday was officially over. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of

me like a familiar hug. He stood by the massive window, a glass of whiskey in his hand,

d, my voice ba

y world since I was eight years old, the smile of my guardian, my father'

e a good birthday?" he asked,

ng a step closer. "But ther

in question. "Anyt

hroat. "I want you, Ethan. Not as a guardian.

ed by a chilling stillness. He set his glass down on the polished mahogany desk with

ne sharp and dismissive. It cut deeper than

voice trembling. "I'm twenty-two. I

ing. "I am nearly twice your age. I raised you. I changed your diapers, for

him kneeling in front of me after my parents' funeral, his face full of sorrow as he promised to always take care of me. I remembered him

expression hardened further, as if

situation," he said coolly. He walked to the door and

media star with a million-dollar smile and eyes that assessed me with a flicker of triump

ll its previous warmth. "This is my fi

echoed in the sile

properly, Ava. Ethan talks about you all the time. Like a dau

ing, a hot flush that spread up m

ow, his voice softening for her. "And honey, I was thinking... your room has the best morning light. It wo

first arrived, my sanctuary filled with memories and sketches for my jewelry

ge, hollow calm settled over me. I looked from his

say, my voice sounding dista

nd staircase, past the portraits of his ancestors, and into my room. For a moment, I j

ic. I took my sketchbooks, my design tools, a few clothes. I left behind the dolls h

name I had saved a month ago after a brief, formal introduction at a tech conference. Lia

mbled as I typ

your offer for a contract marria

ered' notification appeared almost instantly. I was done