The Contract

Helena's POV

I was deep into emails when I heard the knock. Not a soft, polite one—no, this knock was impatient. Loud. I didn't bother answering. He walked in anyway.

"Toto," I said flatly, snapping my MacBook closed. "What do you want?"

He was standing in the doorway of my bedroom like he owned the damn place. Technically, he did. But so did I.

"You've locked yourself in here for two days," he said, stepping in. "You don't speak to me. You don't even breathe in my direction."

I raised an eyebrow. "Maybe because I have nothing to say to you."

He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down. The mattress shifted under his weight, and I hated how aware I suddenly became of how broad he was. His thigh brushed mine—on purpose? I didn't move.

"This isn't going to work," he muttered.

My blood boiled. "Stop saying that. Every time you say it, it gets worse. Just shut up about the fucking contract for once."

He sighed and stood, pushing a hand through his dark hair. I thought he'd walk out. I hoped he would.

But no.

Instead, I rolled my eyes and snapped, "Just fuck off."

He didn't.

In two strides, he was back at the bed, and before I could react, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down against the pillows.

"Hey!" I snapped, struggling. "Get off me!"

"I'm so fucking tired of this," he growled, his face inches from mine. His jaw was clenched, eyes locked on mine like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "Of the games. Of you pretending none of this matters."

My breath caught. I hated how good it felt to be touched, even in anger.

"Let me go."

"Or what?" he asked, voice low, teasing.

I opened my mouth—and nothing came out. Nothing smart. Nothing cruel. Nothing at all.

He laughed. "That's what I thought."

Then, out of nowhere, he kissed me. A soft, slow kiss that shocked every molecule in my body. Not rough. Not claiming. Just... gentle.

And then he left.

Just like that.

No words. Just the soft click of the door and the hurricane he left behind.

⸻

The next morning, I woke up in a fog, still replaying that damn kiss. I pushed the thoughts away and focused on something practical: training. Sports bra, leggings, water bottle. Let's go.

I needed to feel strong. Steady. Unshaken.

Ten minutes in, I was doing barbell squats with way too much weight—100 kilos, which I used to lift easily. Now? Not so much. I got stuck halfway down, knees shaking, face burning.

And then—I heard the sliding door open.

Toto.

"Helena!" he shouted, panicked.

"Don't touch me!" I wheezed, trembling.

But he already had the bar, lifting it off me like it was made of paper and racking it. His hands were on my waist, steadying me. My chest was pressed to his as I caught my breath.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked, a breathless laugh in his voice. "You could've broken your back!"

I looked up, sweaty and mortified. "I used to be able to lift that."

"Well, you're not twenty anymore, sweetheart," he said, grinning.

"Asshole," I muttered, but I was laughing, too.

He tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear without thinking. I froze, suddenly breathless again—but for an entirely different reason.

"I'm gonna shower," I said quickly, stepping away before I could do something ridiculous. Like kiss him again.

⸻

After the shower, I made coffee, too tired to cook. Toto joined me in the kitchen in a white t-shirt that clung to every muscle like a second skin.

"So," he said casually, sipping his espresso, "I was thinking... we should go out for dinner tonight."

I arched a brow. "A date?"

He smirked. "A contractual obligation."

"Oh, how romantic," I deadpanned. "What if I say no?"

"You won't," he said, standing and brushing past me—close enough that his arm grazed mine, slow and intentional. "You never back out of a challenge."

I turned to him, letting my towel slip just slightly from my shoulder. "Careful, Toto. You might actually start enjoying spending time with me."

His eyes darkened just for a second.

"Too late," he murmured, and walked out.

I bit my lip.

Oh, shit.