The room fell into a sudden silence.
Elena held the contract in her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly. The conditions were beyond generous—no binding clauses, triple compensation, full creative freedom. It was everything she had fought for during her darkest days.
And yet… it came from him.
Standing in front of her, dressed immaculately in a charcoal-gray suit, was Lucien Carter—the man who had once ignored her pleas, who now held the power to shape her future again.
"Why?" Her voice came out low, almost bitter.
Lucien didn't flinch. "Because you deserve better this time. And I… owe you that much."
Elena laughed softly, the sound hollow. "You owe me nothing, Mr. Carter. We're just rewriting history with new ink."
"But this time," he said, stepping closer, "I'll let you hold the pen."
Her gaze locked onto his. The arrogance in his voice was gone. What remained was a quiet, aching sincerity. One she didn't know how to fight.
She turned her back to him, not because she didn't care—but because she was afraid that she did.
"I'll sign it," she said after a moment. "But not because of you."
Lucien nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "As long as you sign."
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