Chapter 8 - The Contract Rewritten
The drive back to the Gold Coast estate was silent.
The rain had stopped by the time they reached the mansion, leaving the stone driveway gleaming like wet marble under the streetlights.
Mara walked into the grand foyer, slipping her damp coat off her shoulders. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was clearer than it had ever been.
Vincent stepped in behind her, unbuttoning his vest. He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with an unspoken intensity.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Mara turned to face him. "I'm better than alright, Vincent. It's finally over."
"Yes," Vincent agreed, walking over to his study door. "Moretti is being dealt with by the board tonight. Grant and Evelyn are gone. Your bakery is completely secure."
He paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame. He looked down at the floor, a rare shadow of hesitation crossing his sharp features.
"Which means," Vincent added slowly, "our contract has served its purpose. You have your protection. I have my board's compliance. If you wish to end the arrangement early... I will have Arthur draft the divorce papers tomorrow. You can have your full freedom, the trust fund, and the bakery."
The room grew very still.
Mara looked at the powerful man standing before her—the man who had rescued her from the blood-stained table at Bellini’s Crown, who had protected her honor, who had built a fortress around her dreams, and who had looked at her not as an asset to be used, but as a queen to be elevated.
She walked slowly across the marble foyer, stopping right in front of him.
"You really are an idiot sometimes, Vincent Bellini," she said softly.
Vincent blinked, genuinely surprised. "What?"
Mara reached up, taking his lapels in her hands, pulling him down until his eyes were level with hers.
"I signed a contract for three hundred and sixty-five days," Mara whispered, her breath brushing against his lips. "Because I thought I was buying safety."
"And now?" Vincent breathed, his hands instinctively settling around her waist, pulling her close against his chest.
"Now I don't care about the contract," Mara said, looking straight into his dark, fiery eyes. "I don't want a divorce in nine months. I don't want your trust fund. I want the man who stood between me and the world."
Vincent stared at her, the dark, stoic wall he had built around his heart for thirty-two years crumbling into dust in a single second.
"Mara," he growled, a low, fierce sound from deep in his throat.
May you like
He leaned down and captured her mouth in a deep, desperate kiss.
It was not a gentle kiss. It was fire, passion, and months of unspoken desire exploding all at once. Mara wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into his warmth, kissing him back with everything she had. His hands tightened around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off her feet as he carried her through the study doors, kicking them shut behind them.
