Chapter 5 : The Man Beneath the contract

Chapter 5: The Man Beneath the Contract

The sky outside was heavy with rain. Its rhythm tapped against the mansion's vast glass walls like a warning.

Aria stood by the master bedroom window, arms folded across her chest, lost in thought. Last night's breakdown clung to her like fog, thick and hard to shake off. The towel Leon had used to dry her tears still sat on the vanity table. She hadn't touched it.

Not because she needed it anymore, but because it reminded her of the rare moment he had shown a hint of softness.

And now?

Morning had come again.

And he was gone.

She later found him in the lounge—unshaved, wearing a loose white shirt, staring at a wall-length painting with a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand. He wasn't dressed for work. No laptop. No phone calls.

It felt... off.

Leon Valen never missed morning meetings. His life operated like clockwork.

"Shouldn't you be downtown?" Aria asked gently.

He didn't turn. "I canceled."

"You don't cancel."

Leon finally glanced at her. His eyes looked darker than usual, shadows lingering beneath them. "I made an exception."

"Because of last night?"

"Because of many things."

That wasn't like him.

He never offered explanations. He never answered questions.

"Did something happen?" she asked softly.

Leon exhaled, setting the glass down. "You said something last night about love being poisoned only when it's misused."

Aria blinked.

"I remember," she said. "You told me love destroys."

"It does," he murmured. "Especially when it's confused with something else."

A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of rain.

"I met Lysandra when I was twenty-four," Leon began suddenly. "It was an arranged match. Our families wanted the merger. She played her part well—beautiful, poised, strategic. I thought that was enough."

Aria sat down slowly, not wanting to interrupt.

"We were engaged within months. She wore the ring like a crown. And I mistook her ambition for affection."

He let out a dry laugh.

"Turns out, I was just a means to an end."

Aria's heart tightened.

"She loved someone else," Leon continued. "Not me. She loved a man beneath her status—a bodyguard. She planned everything. The engagement, the timing of the scandal, the betrayal. She used me for her gain, then humiliated me when I became inconvenient."

Aria swallowed. "Is that why you don't trust anyone?"

He didn't deny it.

He didn't have to.

"She taught me a lesson. Love is a weakness. Feelings are liabilities. That's why I created rules, contracts, control."

His eyes met hers—darker, emptier.

"And then you walked into my life."

Aria's breath caught.

"I didn't plan for you," Leon said. "I planned for your sister. But she ran away, and you showed up instead. Quiet, desperate, selfless. Like a lamb walking into a lion's cage."

She could barely breathe.

"You weren't in the blueprint, Aria," he said softly. "But now you're here. In this house. In my bed. In every headline and photograph. You were supposed to be temporary."

"I still am," she whispered.

Leon looked away.

That silence spoke louder than any vow ever could.

Later that day, Aria wandered into the library, one of the few untouched spaces in the mansion. It had floor-to-ceiling shelves and a massive glass ceiling that let in the gray sky. Books lined the walls like soldiers, proud and untouched.

She ran her fingers along the spines.

Then she saw it.

A photo.

Tucked carelessly between two hardcovers.

She pulled it out.

It was old and worn. A picture of a younger Leon—smiling. A boy no older than ten, holding hands with a woman who had the same eyes. His mother.

They stood in front of a small piano.

The same one in their bedroom.

Aria held the photo delicately, her heart aching. This wasn't the man the world knew. This wasn't the CEO who built empires or shattered hearts.

This was a boy who once believed in music, mothers, and innocence.

And lost it all.

The door creaked behind her.

She turned.

Leon stood there, arms crossed, watching her with a storm in his eyes.

"Don't touch that," he said stiffly.

"I'm sorry," Aria said, carefully returning the photo. "I didn't mean to snoop. It just fell."

He walked past her, took the photo, and slid it into his jacket.

"She taught me to play," he said quietly. "Every night after dinner. Until the day my father slapped her in front of me and told her music was a waste of time."

Aria froze.

"She never touched the piano again after that."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Leon didn't answer.

He stared out at the gray clouds. "You wanted to know what I am beneath the contract? There it is. A son of a tyrant. A man raised by rules and punishment."

Aria stepped forward. "You're more than that."

"No, I'm not," he replied. "That's why I made our contract the way I did. No affection. No trust. No hope."

"But you've broken your own rules," she said gently.

His gaze sharpened. "Have I?"

"You protected me from Lysandra."

"That was strategy."

"You held my hand."

"Image control."

"You wiped my tears."

He paused.

That pause was enough.

Aria stepped closer. "Leon, you can keep pretending this is just a transaction. You can build walls around your heart all you want. But you're not stone. You're just afraid."

His jaw clenched.

She touched his sleeve lightly, barely there. "You're not your father."

He turned to her, eyes unreadable. "I could be. One wrong decision, one moment of weakness—and I become everything I swore I'd never be."

"Then don't make that mistake," she said, her voice trembling. "Don't push away the people who want to see you healed."

His gaze flickered to her hand on his arm.

Then to her eyes.

And for the first time, there was no armor.

Just a man.

Tired, haunted, human.

That evening, the staff brought dinner to the dining room, but Leon didn't go.

Instead, Aria found him back at the piano, fingers gliding over the keys slowly. Not performing. Just remembering.

She didn't say anything.

She simply sat beside him, silent.

He didn't push her away.

He didn't leave.

He played, and she listened.

And in that quiet room, with the storm passing overhead, it felt like something between them had shifted.

Not erased the past.

But cracked the ice.

Later that night, Aria opened her laptop to check the news.

And her heart sank.

**BREAKING NEWS:"Greystone Family Under Investigation for Financial Misconduct—Bride's Marriage Under Question"

She clicked the article in a panic.

It detailed claims that Aria's father forged financial documents before the wedding to secure Leon Valen's investment. Anonymous sources linked the scandal to Aria's sudden substitution as the bride.

They were framing it as a setup.

A gold-digging, orchestrated con.

Her hands trembled.

The press would tear her apart.

And Leon...

She heard the front door slam.

Then his voice.

"Aria!"

She rushed out of the bedroom.

Leon stood in the hallway, phone in hand, jaw tense, voice like thunder.

"You knew about this?" he demanded.

"No—Leon, I swear, I didn't!"

"They forged my signature!" he snapped. "They used me to save their company!"

"I didn't know!" she cried. "I would never—!"

He looked at her like he didn't recognize her.

"You're one of them," he said bitterly. "You were always one of them."

"No—please. Listen to me—"

"Get out of this room."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"You heard me," he said coldly. "We had a contract. You've broken it."

Aria's chest felt like it was cracking open.

This wasn't just coldness.

This was punishment.

"But—"

"I said out."

She left the room trembling, heart in pieces.

But this time...

She didn't cry.

Because deep down, she knew—

Leon wasn't pushing her away because he hated her.

He was pushing her away because she was the only one who ever got close enough to break him.

To be continued....