The Contract

Explicit contents, beware.

TRAVIS'S P.O.V

I sighed and looked up as we drove into the underground parking lot, the low hum of the engine echoing against the concrete walls. Glancing at the time on my phone, I noted it was past 6 PM.

I’d been in Washington for a week, tying up loose ends and preparing for the handover. Playing games with Trent had never been an option; he wasn’t worth it.

The car door swung open, and I stepped out, straightening my suit as I did. It had been a week since I’d seen her—since we’d talked. A couple more weeks since I’d set foot in the house. Distance seemed like the best solution to keep the inevitable altercations at bay.

A valet handed me my suitcase, and I began heading toward the double doors of the building when a voice called out.

“Mr. Travis Ferrari.”

I halted in my tracks, my left hand instinctively sliding into my pocket. Turning slowly, my gaze landed on him—the bane of my existence.

He leaned casually against a sleek car, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he stepped forward.

To think this man was my carbon copy—my twin.

“Brother,” he drawled, his hands slipping into his pockets.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you here to plague me in my own building now?”

“Your empire,” he said, his tone mocking. “Pretty impressive, I must admit. But your pride and greed wouldn’t let you be content, would it? This could have been so easy, brother. You brought this on yourself.”

I hissed, turning away, unwilling to let him get under my skin.

“I met Pearl recently,” he said casually, the words slicing through the air like a blade. “She’s doing quite well without you.”

I froze mid-step, my grip tightening on the handle of my suitcase.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice low and measured, though anger simmered just beneath the surface.

“Nothing much. We talked. Hit it off like old times, if you know what I mean,” he murmured, the insinuation unmistakable.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my patience hanging by a thread.

“She was with the Society,” he added.

The breath caught in my throat. My blood ran cold.

“She fit in well. The Committee welcomed her with open arms. I guess she’s filling the slot since you’ve been so...adamant.”

I couldn’t speak. The words lodged in my throat as the color drained from my face. How the hell had she gotten involved with them?

“Relax,” he continued, his voice dripping with malice. “Miller was there to show her the ropes. Kept her busy. Oh, and here, you can keep the souvenirs.”

He stepped forward, tucking a stack of pictures into my blazer pocket before retreating.

“And by the way, I spoke to Donaldson. He sends his regards.”

Before I could respond, he hopped into his car. “Bye, brother!” he called mockingly as the engine roared to life, and he sped away.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding as I pulled the pictures from my pocket.

They were a series of candid shots. Pearl, at a party, Aiden’s arm possessively around her waist. Another of her laughing with Donaldson and Hastings. One of her stepping out of the venue.