Hunted By My Secret Billionaire Employer

CHLOE POV:

Clause 8: Party B waives all rights to claim any personal, academic, or romantic association with Party A, under penalty of a one-million-dollar fine.

I sat in my creaky used Honda, the engine ticking as it cooled, and stared at the document in my hands. Contract Termination Agreement.

One last check.

I took a deep breath. With a cheap pen that was running out of ink, I signed my name on the line next to "Party B": Chloe Miller.

My eyes snagged on the final page, on the clause about financial settlement. A six-figure "compensation" was listed.

A number that could change everything for a student like me.

My gaze lingered for less than a second.

I picked up the pen again. Without hesitation, I checked the box next to the line: Waive all rights to financial compensation.

I didn't need his money. I needed my freedom.

For a year, I had tutored Donovan Carlisle in philosophy, a ghostwriter for his GPA, ensuring the great ice hockey captain remained eligible to play.

I poured my soul into meticulously crafted notes and late-night emails, only to be met with his deafening silence and arrogant indifference-to him, I wasn't a living person, just a convenient, disposable tool.

Now, it was over. I was taking my life back.

I pushed open the car door. The cold evening air was a sharp, welcome slap to my face. The magnificent iron gates of the Carlisle estate loomed before me, a silent, sleeping beast.

I knew his world was paved with gold and privilege, a realm where someone like me didn't even register as a blip on his radar. In his eyes, I was nothing more than dust on his hockey skates-easily wiped away and instantly forgotten.

I didn't go in. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang three times before a calm voice answered.

"Mr. Price, it's Chloe," I said. My voice sounded thin in the vast, empty parking lot. "I'm at the gate. I've signed the agreement."

"Please wait a moment, Miss Miller," the voice on the other end replied.

A few minutes later, a man in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair combed without a single strand out of place, emerged from a side gate. Philip Price, the Carlisle family's butler.

I waited by my car as he approached. He gave me a slight nod, his eyes holding a hint of curiosity, but he asked no questions. He was a professional.

"All the documents are inside," I said, handing him the folder. My movements were crisp, final. "I've signed everything."

He took the folder but didn't leave immediately. He flipped to the last page, his eyes landing on my signature waiving the compensation.

His eyebrow twitched, a barely perceptible motion. Surprise. "Are you certain, Miss Miller? This sum was stipulated in the agreement."

"I'm certain." I shrugged, trying to make my tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather. "I fulfilled my tutoring duties. He paid his tuition. We don't owe each other anything."

I didn't want him to see the tension in my shoulders. I just wanted to get out of here, to sever every last tie to the name "Donovan Carlisle."

Philip Price closed the folder. "Very well. I will deliver the agreement to Mr. Donovan."

His tone reverted to that impeccable, professional neutrality, as if I had just given up a library book, not a small fortune.

He turned and walked back toward the estate, his posture straight and distant. I watched until he disappeared behind the side gate. A complicated mix of relief and uncertainty washed over me.

To hell with playing a shadow in a rich boy's world. I'm done chasing ghosts; it's time to build my own damn empire.

CHLOE POV:

Just as Philip Price was about to disappear through the gate, he paused. He turned back, and his next words caught me completely off guard.

"Miss Miller, my personal advice would be to reconsider."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This contract, for you, might have been more than just a tutoring job," he said, his voice a little lower now. "You know Mr. Donovan's status... Sometimes, maintaining a formal connection is not a bad thing for your life at Briar University."

I understood his subtext immediately. He was telling me that it was smart to stay under the shadow of the great Carlisle tree, that walking away was a foolish move. A wave of disgust washed over me.

"Thank you for your 'advice,' Mr. Price." I put a sharp edge on the word "advice," my voice turning cold. "But I prefer to rely on myself. My life, for better or worse, is mine to control."

Philip Price looked at me, and the curiosity in his eyes shifted to something else... appreciation? Maybe I was imagining it.

He finally nodded, his gaze softening. "I understand. My apologies, I overstepped."

His attitude seemed to change from purely professional to something more. A flicker of respect.

He tucked the folder securely under his arm and gave me another nod. "In that case, I wish you all the best for your future, Miss Miller."

This time, the blessing sounded sincere. The tension in my shoulders finally eased. I nodded back at him. "Thank you, Mr. Price. Goodbye."

I watched him disappear, then let out a long, slow breath. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest.

I quickly got back into my little car, and even the air inside felt fresher.

Goodbye, Carlisle. Goodbye, Donovan, the boy who only ever existed in emails and study materials.

I started the car, and a cheerful pop song blasted from the radio.

I started humming along, feeling lighter than I had in a year.

I pressed the gas, and my used Honda sped happily down the wide road.

From this day on, I was just Chloe Miller, a regular music major at Briar University.

I didn't drive home. I headed straight for the busiest commercial street near campus.

Today was my 21st birthday. It was also the first day of my new life. It deserved a proper celebration.

I sent a text to my best friend, Casey: The usual spot. My treat. Celebrating my resignation!

Casey replied instantly with an explosion emoji, followed by: You finally kicked that mysterious vampire employer to the curb?

I smiled and typed back: Technically, I just officially quit.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, a grin spreading across my face as I imagined the free life ahead. I wasn't someone who needed to cling to the Carlisle family's payroll.

To celebrate, I decided on the most popular bar on campus-The Penalty Box.

The name, a reference to ice hockey's punishment zone, was a nod to the team that ruled this school. It was where the players often hung out, a perfect irony for my celebration of freedom from one of them.

The light ahead turned red. I stopped, glancing at myself in the rearview mirror.

The girl in the reflection had bright eyes, full of hope for the future, but also a flicker of uncertainty.

Was it really... over? Would Donovan Carlisle, a man I'd never even met, feel anything at all about his tutor's departure?

I shook my head, pushing the ridiculous thought away. He was Donovan Carlisle, a god on campus. Why would he care about someone so insignificant?

DONOVAN POV:

Philip Price entered the study. I was sitting in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling window, spinning a hockey stick in my hand. The green of the lawn outside was just a blur. My mind was still replaying a mistake from yesterday's practice.

"Sir, Miss Miller's termination agreement." Philip placed the folder on the desk.

I didn't turn around. "She signed it?" My voice was ice. "Did she ask for anything extra?"

This tutor was arranged by my housekeeper. I haven't even met her in person. All I know is that her code name is D.

She gives me online lessons, helps me with my homework, and sends me papers.

We have always been in contact using an encrypted number.

She is just a tool I use to deal with those stubborn old-timers in the administrative department. It's only to ensure that my average grade is high enough so that I can continue to play on the ice.

Ice hockey is the only thing I care about.

"No, sir." Philip's voice was as steady as ever. "In fact, she voluntarily waived the compensation stipulated in the agreement."

My wrist stopped moving. The stick went still.

Waived it? That money was enough for a regular student's tuition and living expenses for two years.

I slowly turned around, my blue eyes locking on Philip. I frowned, the old scar on my eyebrow becoming more pronounced. "Why would she do that?"

"She said it was a matter of principle, sir," Philip answered truthfully. "Personally, I believe Miss Miller is a young lady with a great deal of self-respect."

A quiet, cold laugh escaped my lips. Self-respect? In this world, was there anything more real than money? It was either a pathetic attempt to play hard to get, or she was just stupid.

Still, it sparked a flicker of interest. This girl seemed a little more interesting than I'd thought.

"Noted." I turned back to the window, resuming my indifferent posture. "Leave the agreement there. I'll deal with it in a couple of days."

"Sir," Philip reminded me, "the PR department advises handling this promptly to avoid any negative rumors about your academic standing. It could affect your NIL endorsement renewal next month."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Tell them to shut up and do as I say."