LOVE IN CONTRACT

Maya's POV:

"Please, leave me alone. I don't know what you're talking about."

My voice came out quieter than I wanted, but I didn't look away.

My fingers were clenched so tight around my phone that my knuckles hurt.

The streetlight flickered above us, throwing uneven shadows across the road. My street was usually calm at this hour with families locked indoors, the occasional car passing and the sound of television bleeding through open window.

Victor Benson stood a few steps away from me, hands in pockets, dressed to well for a random street confrontation. His shoes were spotless. His expression relaxed m, almost bored, like this was an inconvenience rather than something deliberate.

He was tall and broad, his dark eyes looked sharp, almost like they were measuring everything around him. His face was handsome enough to pass for an actor, there was something tense in his expression.

Beside him was his sister.

She carried an energy that was impossible to miss. Her mid- length dark hair framed a face that was as sharp, and her green eyes held a calculating glare. Her pointed shoes sounded like a warning, like the world must follow her lead.

Victor laughed.

It wasn't a loud laugh. Just a short, amused sound, like he already knew how the conversation would end.

I looked from him to the woman standing beside him. Helena didn't laugh.

She stood perfectly still, arms folded, her sharp eyes fixed on me like she was studying something she'd already decided she didn't like. Her black dress looked expensive, the kind that didn't need effort to intimidate.

"You're overreacting," Victor said lightly. No one is attacking you."

I tightened my grip around the strap of my bag.

"Then why are you here?" I asked. "On my steet."

Helena's eyes narrowed just slightly.

"You shouldn't be asking questions like that," she said. Her voice was calm, almost polite. "You should be listening."

I swallowed.

"I don't know what you think I did," i said, choosing each word carefully, "but you're mistaken"

Victor chuckled under his breath. "You journalists love saying that."

"I'm not doing anything wrong," my heart was beating fast now, but I forced myself to stay still. "If this is about work, you should speak to my editor."

Helena stepped closer.

Not touching me. Just close enough that I could smell her perfume.

"You take pictures," she said quietly. "You observe. You record things that don't belong to you."

"I do my job," I said. "That's all."

Victor tilted his head, studying me like I was mildly interesting. " Funny thing about jobs," he said. "They come with limits. Lines you don't cross and since you've started it, you can as well, finish it."

"I haven't crossed anything." I said.

Helena smiled then.

It wasn't warm.

"You don't get to decide that," she said.

A car drove past slowly, headlights sweeping over us for a brief second. I felt exposed, suddenly aware of how alone i was standing alone there.

"I live here," i said, my voice firmer now. "You can't just show up and threaten me."

"No one threatened you, Yet," Victor replied.

I inhaled sharply, "if you have a problem, deal with it properly and don't involve me."

Helena's gaze flicked briefly down the street, then back to me.

"Think about it carefully."

Helena's voice was smooth,almost reasonable, but nothing about that moment felt calm.

"I already told you," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I'm not interested."

"You're interested," she said. "You just don't know it yet."

"You see," she said it softly, "this doesn't have to be difficult. Work with us, nothing changes. Refuse..."

She let the sentence hang.

"I don't know anything," I said, more firmly this time. "And I won't be part of whatever this is."

Victor opened the car door. "Think about it."

Helena held my gaze a moment longer.

"We'll talk again," she said. "Soon."

They got into the car.

The engine revved once, then the car rolled away disappearing down the street like they'd never been there.

I stood frozen for several seconds.

Only when the sound was gone did I realize my hands were shaking.

Everything started on the day Nina called for a meeting.

Not because the day felt special. It didn't.

It was one of the normal days that didn't warn you before they change your life.

I didn't know that yet.

That morning, my phone alarm went off for the third time before I slapped it quiet. I lay yhere for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, letting the sound of the city seep in through the half open window. Car. Voices. Someone laughing too loudly down the street.

Another normal day.

I pushed myself up and swung my legs off the bed, my feet finding the cold floor. The room was small but familiar. My desk by the window, clothes folded on the chair because I'd been too tired to put them away the jight before and my notebook sitting where I'd dropped it.

I grabbed it out of habit, flipped through a few pages, then sighed and drooped it back.

Downstairs, I could hear my mom moving around. Plates clinking. The low sound of the radio she always turned on in the mornings. Lily's voice floated up the stairs, half asleep and complaining.

"Mummy, why do I have to wake up so early every day?"

"Because school doesn't care if you're tired," my mom replied calmly.

I smiled to myself and headed down.

The kitchen smelled like fried eggs and coffee. Mom stood by the stove, apron tied loosely around her waist, her hair pulled back. Lily sat at the table, sketchbook open, pencil moving lazily across the page.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning, Maya! Want some eggs?" she asked cheerfully.

"I'll have some, thanks."

Mom turned, "You're awake early today."

"I didn't sleep well," I said, reaching for a mug. Something's on my mind."

She poured coffee for me anyway. "Work again?"

I nodded.

Mom gave me a look. "You worry too much. Just do your best, and don't let anyone stress you."

I took a sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle me.

After breakfast, I went back upstairs to get ready.

I pulled out a crisp white blouse and a pair of black slacks. Clean. Simple. My comfort zone.

Then I went with a low heels to look professional.

I wore my small silver studs and a thin bracelet, the one Lily had gotten me for my birthday lasts year.

I paused in front of the mirror, brushing a strands of my hair behind my ear. "Okay," I muttered to myself. "You got this. Just another day."

A message came from Nina, flashed on my screen: "Be ready. Big meeting today and no mistakes."

My stomach twisted. I had no idea what she had planned.

Maya's POV:

I grabbed my bag, checked my notebook and walked downstairs.

Mom and Lily had already left before me.

I knew because the house felt quieter than usual. Just silence and faint hum from the refrigerator.

Mom left early on weekdays. The restaurant wasn't far, just a few streets away, small and always busy by morning. Lily usually left not long after her, her school a little farther down, close enough that mom could still keep an eye on her if she wanted.

I locked the door behind me and paused for a second.

From the outside, our house looked modest, quiet and blending into the street.

Across the street, the café was already open.

The light were warm, the kind that made everything look calmer than it really was.

Someone was wiping the tables while a couple of people sat by the window, cups in their hands, moving slowly like they weren't in a rush to be anywhere else.

Sophia worked there part-time.

Not because she lived early mornings, but because the café was close to home and flexible to let her juggle her blogging gigs.

I started walking, heels tapping softly against the road, letting the house fade behind me.

As I headed toward the subway, I caught myself thinking about the meeting Nina had called.

The office was already loud when I got there. Phone ringing,keyboard tapping, people talking over each other.

"Morning, Maya," someone called from behind a desk.

"Morning," I replied, forcing energy into my voice.

I dropped my bags at the desk and barely had time to turn on my computer when Nina walked in.

"Good morning, everyone. Conference room. Now."

The room went quiet for half a second. Then chairs scraped, people stood and murmurs followed.

Inside the conference room, Nina stood at the head of the table, tablet in hand. She waited until everyone sat before she began.

"I'll get straight to it," she said. "Last week was...fine."

Fine. That word always sounded worse coming from her.

She tapped her tablet and the screen behind her lit up with numbers. Views. Engagement. Shares.

"Some of you did well. Some played it safe."

Her eyes moved slowly across the room. "We can't afford safe anymore."

One guy at the back cleared his throat. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"Better," Nina said simply. Stronger. Stories that carries weight.

She walked a little, heels clicking softly against the floor.

"I don't want recycled gossip. I don't want "source say" with nothing to back it up. I want facts. I want impact. I want something that will sit on the front page and make people stop scrolling."

Silence.

"This week," she continued, "I want headlines. Real ones."

Someone laughed nervously. "That's a lot."

"That's the job," Nina replied without missing a beat.

She turned her gaze to me. I straightened without meaning to.

"Maya."

"Yes?"

"You've been consistent," she said. "Clean work. Solid writing. But I need more than solid."

My fingers curled up under the table.

"I know," I said quietly.

Her expression softened just a little. "I believe you can deliver. All of you can. But this week?" she paused. "This week is not the time to be afraid."

The meeting ends quietly.

"That's all," she says. "Back to work."

Chairs move. People stand. Conversations starts immediately like nothing heavy was just dropped on us.

I'm packing my notebook when I heard my name.

"Maya."

I look up.

Nina hasn't moved. She's still standing by the table, arms crossed loosely, watching everyone leave.

"Stay back small."

I nod and sit again.

Thr room empties fast, Nina pulls out a chair and sits, resting her elbows on the table.

"You've been quiet lately," she says.

"I've been working," I reply.

She gives a short nod. "I know."

She flips open my file, scans it quickly, then closes it again like she already knows what's inside.

"You don't rush stories," she says. "You don't exaggerate. And you don't publish what you can't stand behind."

I shift slightly. Compliments at work always make me uneasy. They usually come before more work.

She studies me for a second, then says, almost casually, "Have you ever looked into Ryan Hart?"

The name sits between us.

"The Hart Group CEO?" I ask, not reacting much.

"Yes."

I think for a moment. "Not really. There's nothing there."

Nina's mouth tilts a little, not quite a smile.

"That's what everyone says."

I keep my voice steady. "Some people are just private."

"Private people still exist in the world," she replies. "They just hide better."

I don't argue. I don't agree either.

"If you touch that kind of name," I say carefully, "and your source isn't solid, it becomes a problem. For the paper. For you."

"I know," Nina says. "Which is why I'm not assigning it."

She leans back slightly.

"I'm only suggesting it. You can look. Or you can find someone else. This isn't pressure."

I nod once.

"Whatever you bring me," she adds, "it has to hold weight."

She stands.

"That's all."

That was my dismissal.

I walked back to my desk, sat down and opened my laptop again. The blank document stared at me.

I typed a few random names. Deleted them. Typed again. Deleted.

Then I stopped.

Because the problem wasn't that I had no ideas. It was the fact that I was about to enter Ryan Hart's world.

My phone vibrates.

Sophia: "Lunch? I'm starving and my shift is dead."

I look at the time. Still early enough but my brain needs air anyway.

Me: "where are you?"

Sophia: "The café. Come before I start stealing pastries."

I smile a little, shut my laptop and grab my bags.

The café is a short walk. Small, warm, always smelling like coffee and sugar. Sophia is behind the counter when I walk in, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled in a loose bun that's already falling apart.

She sees me and her face lights up.

"Finally," she says. "I was about to text you,"urgent" so you'd hurry."

I drop my bag in the chair opposite the counter. "You always say that."

"And you always come." She shoots back, grinning.

"So," she says, sitting down. "How's work? You look like your brain has been doing overtime."

"It kind of had," We had a meeting."

Sophia groans. "Nina's meeting?"

I nod

"She doesn't call meeting for nothing," Sophia says. "What did she do want this time?"

"Bigger stories, Stronger headlines and Nothing careless."

She takes a sip of her coffee, eyes on me. "You're think yoo hard. That's your "something is wrong" face."

I sigh. "She mentioned someone."

Sophia eyebrows lift immediately. "Who?"

"Ryan Hart."

She blinks. Once. Then sits foward.

"The Ryan Hart?"

"Yes."

Sophia lets out a whistle. "That's...big."

"I know," I say quickly. "She didn't assign it. She just suggested it."

"That's still something," Sophia replies. "Nina doesn't just suggest names like that."

I stare into my cup. "That's what scared me."

Sophia studies my face. "Do you want to do it?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "He's too clean. And that kind of clean usually means either nothing at all... or something you don't want to touch without proof."

She nods slowly. "True."

I look up to her. "That's why I wanted to ask you. Does it even make sense to look into someone like that? Or am I just inviting trouble?"

Sophia doesn't answer immediately. She thinks first, the way she always does when it matters.

"I don't think you're wrong to be cautious," she says. "But I don't think Nina would bring him up for no reason."

I press my lips together. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Maya's POV

The next day at work, I told myself that I won't think about it.

I sat at my desk, laptop open, fingers hovering over the keyboard, pretending to review yesterday's notes. The newsroom was ready alive with phones ringing and chairs scraping against the floor.

Except my head wasn't normal.

Ryan Hart.

I shook my head slightly and clicked on another tab.

"Okay", I whispered to myself, "let's think properly".

I scrolled again.

There was Leo Hartman,a famous actor. Handsome and loved by the public,always smiling. But the more I read it,the more I shook my head. Too many interviews and too many people watching him closely.

"Too exposed",I murmured,drawing a line through his name.

Next was Dr.Philp Raines,philanthropist,always donating money,always giving speeches about ethics and leadership. Clean image,yes but also boring.

"Nothing there",I said to myself,closing his tab.

My phone vibrated softly beside my laptop. A notification.

Someone had replied to my last post on my anonymous account.

"Power never looks like power until it's too late."

I swallowed.

I created the account as a place to write without filters and without my editor's voice in my head.

I locked my phone and slid it into my bag.

Across the room, Nina walked past my desk, heels clicking sharply against the floor. She stopped and just stood right there.

"Any progress?" she asked.

Her tone wasn't harsh. That made it worse.

"I'm...still sorting through options," i said carefully.

She nodded once. "Good. Take your time but not too much of it."

Then as if it was an afterthought, she added,

"Clean stories are boring, Maya. Dig where people don't look."

She walked away before I could respond.

Dig where people don't look.

I turned back to my laptop and with one click, Ryan Hart's profile filled the screen.

I skimmed through articles I'd already read last night.

Awards, business, expansions, charity dinners and interviews that said everything and nothing at the same time.

Nothing stuck out. That was the problem.

By the time I left work, my head felt heavy.

I got home tired in a quiet way, the kind that sits in your shoulders and refused to leave.

Only Lily was around. She sprawled on the floor with her sketch pad, humming to herself.

"Mummy's not back?" I asked.

She shook her head without looking up.

"Restaurant."

I nodded and went straight to my room. I showered quickly, changed into something loose, and tied my hair back the way I always did when I wanted to think clearly.

I opened my laptop and went straight to the document that I created.

What caught my attention was how often Emma Lane appeared beside him.

His secretary.

She was always close, always standing just a step behind him, dressed neatly, smiling lightly. They liked good together in that polished way, like they belonged in the same picture.

I thought about Nina words, about headlines and risk.

Maybe I needed to follow him. I needed to see him in real life, outside press photos and articles.

I pushed my laptop slightly away from me.

I needed air.

I didn't bother closing the screen. Ryan Hart's face stayed there, his name hold beneath it, like he was watching me make up my mind. I grabbed my phone and slipped out of the house, telling Lily I'd be back soon.

I grabbed my jacket and stepped outside. The evening breeze hit my face,cool and calming. I walked without thinking, letting my feet guide me down the street.

I stopped at a small convenience store and went inside,heading straight for the drinks fridge.

As I reached out for an energy drink,another hand reached for the same thing at the same time.

Our fingers brushed.

"Oh sorry",I said quickly,pulling back my hand

The guy laughed softly "My fault. Go ahead".

I looked up

He was tall,causal,wearing a hoodie and jeans,holding a paper bag like he had just come from the same store.

His look was easy and warm

"No harm done", I added.

"I'm Ethan", he said, adjusting the grip on the bag.

"You live around here,right? I've seen you before"

I hesitated then nodded "Yeah. I'm Maya".

"Nice to finally meet you properly", he said,like that meant something.

Something about the way he looked at me made me shift on my feet. Not uncomfortable but maybe noticed.

After paying,we walked together,talking about nothing important like work stress,the neighborhood,bad coffee places nearby. He listened when I spoke,really listened and I found myself relaxing without meaning to.

"I really enjoyed talking to you", he said suddenly. "Would it be weird if I ask for your number?"

I hesitated for half a second,then shook my head "No. it wouldn't".

We exchanged phones. His name popped up on my screen.

"There", he said. "Now we're officially neighbors".

I laughed softly. "Looks like it"

When we reached my building,I stopped.

"This is me", I said

"Right", he replied,smiling again. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Yeah,Maybe".

"Oh okay", he replied,clearly not ready for the walk to end. "Good night Maya".

"Goodnight,Ethan".

I walked away,feeling his eyes on my back for a while.

When I got home,I locked the door and leaned against it,breathing out slowly.

Ethan was...nice and easy.

But as I dropped my bag and walked back to the table,my eyes went straight to my laptop.

Still open.

Still waiting.

Ryan Hart's name stared back at me from the screen.

If I did this,there would be no room for error and one wrong move, everything would be a disaster.

"Okay", I whispered to myself. "If I'm doing this...I'm doing it properly".

I opened the chat, my thumb resting on Nina's name.

"Stop overthinking," I told myself. "It's just work."

I typed slowly.

Maya:I've decided to go ahead with the Ryan Hart story.

I stared at the message, then added another one before fear could catch up with me.

Maya: But i want to be careful. I don't want to jump into anything that isn't verified.

I sent it and dropped the phone on the table. "Now we wait," i sighed, rubbing my palms together.

The screen lit up a few minutes later.

Nina: Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear.

I sat up straighter.

Nina: You can start by watching him. Where he goes and who keeps around him.

I frowned slightly, "Watching him how?" I whispered, thrb typed it out.

Maya: you mean background research or... following him?

The reply came almost immediately.

Nina:Both. But don't rush. Be smart about it.

I exhaled slowly.

Maya: okay. I'll move carefully.

Nina: you're doing well, Maya. Just observe. Patterns always reveal something.

I locked my phone and leaned back, my eyes drifting to my laptop screen where his name was still open.

"So I'm officially doing this," I murmured. "Watching Ryan Hart."