Free Web NovelChapter 150: The Contract
Ella’s POV freewёbnoνel.com
I stared out the window as my father drove us to one of his ridiculously extravagant villas. It was his thing—having a luxurious base in every corner of the globe. And of course, it had to be this one tonight, far removed from my cozy little apartment that, in his words, "wasn’t safe for a stray cat, let alone my daughter."
Honestly, I didn’t care about the villa or the safety concerns. What was eating at me was how easily Jason went along with this whole contract marriage idea. He didn’t even flinch when I laid it all out. Sure, I expected some resistance or at least hesitation. But no, Jason was all in. He agreed so fast it almost made me suspicious.
Well, not suspicious enough to change my mind.
I sighed, glancing at my father in the driver’s seat. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, his expression one of smug satisfaction. No doubt he thought he’d just secured his legacy and my future all in one brilliant move. Too bad he had no idea about the little twist in his master plan.
Yeah, I know when my father finds out I went behind his back and turned his proposal into a one-year contract marriage with Jason, he’ll flip. Probably scream. Maybe threaten to disown me. But hey, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I just hope Jason can keep his mouth shut about the whole thing.
The thought of him blurting something stupid—like he almost did earlier—made me groan inwardly. That guy was going to be the death of me. If he’d managed to keep quiet, I wouldn’t be sitting here in this plush car, heading to a place I didn’t even want to go.
"Something on your mind, Ella?" my father asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
"Nope," I said quickly, offering him a fake smile. "Just tired."
He nodded, clearly satisfied with my answer. "Well, you’ll sleep better tonight knowing you’re not in that shoebox of an apartment."
I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. He meant well—he always did, in his own controlling, infuriating way. But still, his constant interference made me feel like I was suffocating.
When we finally pulled up to the villa, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the grandeur of it all. The sprawling mansion, the perfectly manicured gardens, the marble driveway—it was all so over-the-top, so Kingsley.
My father opened my door for me, and I stepped out, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air.
"You’ll thank me later," he said, patting my shoulder as he walked toward the entrance.
"Sure, Dad," I muttered under my breath, following him inside.
The villa was just as extravagant on the inside as it was on the outside. Crystal chandeliers, plush rugs, and artwork that probably cost more than my entire apartment. I could practically hear my father’s voice in my head: This is how a Kingsley lives.
I let him lead me to one of the guest rooms, where he paused at the door and turned to me. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll start discussing the wedding arrangements."
"Can’t wait," I said sarcastically, earning a pointed look from him.
"Goodnight, Ella," he said firmly before walking away.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, I flopped onto the massive bed with a sigh.
A part of me felt guilty for dragging Jason into this mess, but another part of me couldn’t help but be impressed by how he handled my father. If he could just keep his cool and play along, this plan might actually work.
I grabbed my phone and sent Jason a quick text:
"Just got to the villa. My dad’s already talking wedding plans, so please—whatever you do—don’t let him corner you into anything crazy. And remember: not a word about the contract."
I stared at the screen for a moment before adding another message:
"Also, thanks. For agreeing to this. I know it’s a lot, but it means a lot to me."
I hit send and stared at the ceiling, wondering how I’d ended up here. My life had always been about proving myself—proving I could be more than just Charles Kingsley’s daughter. And now, in some twisted way, this ridiculous contract marriage felt like another test.
But I’d pass this one, too.
Even if it meant putting up with Jason and his infuriating ability to almost blow our cover every five seconds.
After sending the texts to Jason, I stared at my phone, half-expecting him to call me with some overdramatic reaction. Maybe he’d rant about how this whole thing was absurd or try to negotiate his way out of it. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him.
But instead, my phone stayed silent.
"Good," I muttered to myself, tossing the device onto the plush duvet. "At least he’s smart enough to shut up for now."
I glanced around the ridiculously oversized guest room my father had so graciously designated for me. The walk-in closet alone was bigger than my entire apartment. The bed was draped in silk sheets, the kind that probably cost more than my monthly rent. And on the nightstand, there was a vase of fresh roses. Because, of course, my dad couldn’t let me breathe without trying to bribe me with luxury.
"Well, joke’s on you, Dad," I muttered as I plopped onto the bed and grabbed my laptop from my bag. "I don’t need silk sheets or roses. I need freedom, and this little ’marriage’ stunt is how I’m going to get it."
Flipping open the laptop, I started typing out the terms of our contract. If I was going to be forced into this farce of a marriage, it was going to be on my terms.
Marriage Contract Between Ella Kingsley and Jason King
Term of Marriage:
The marriage will last exactly one (1) year from the date of the wedding ceremony.
Public Image:
Both parties will maintain the appearance of a happily married couple in public, as deemed necessary to satisfy Charles Kingsley’s expectations. Public displays of affection (PDA) will be limited to hand-holding, occasional hugs, and chaste kisses—nothing over the top. Let’s keep it PG, Jason.
Living Arrangements:
Both parties will reside in the same household for the duration of the marriage. Separate bedrooms are a must. I don’t care how cute you think you are, Jason; I’m not sharing a bed.
Mutual Respect Clause:
Jason is not allowed to meddle in Ella’s business ventures or undermine her authority in front of Charles Kingsley or anyone else. Ella will refrain from belittling Jason’s opinions in public. Note: This does not apply in private, where her sassiness will remain unchecked. freēwēbnovel.com
No Falling in Love:
Under no circumstances is either party allowed to develop romantic feelings for the other. Seriously, Jason, don’t even think about it.
Termination Clause:
At the end of one year, both parties will amicably dissolve the marriage. If either party fails to adhere to the terms, the other party reserves the right to sue for damages. (Yes, I’m looking at you, Jason.)
I leaned back and read over the draft, a satisfied grin spreading across my face. "Perfect," I said, snapping the laptop shut. "A masterpiece of practicality and sass."
I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the screen before sending it to Jason.
"Here’s the first draft of our contract. Read it, memorize it, and don’t even think about trying to negotiate the no-love clause. It’s non-negotiable."
Not five seconds later, my phone buzzed with his reply.
Jason: "No falling in love? You’re already assuming I’d fall for you? Confident much, Ella?"
I smirked and shot back:
"I’m just being realistic. Women like me are irresistible. I’m doing this for your own good."
The typing indicator popped up almost immediately.
Jason: "Sure, Ella. Keep telling yourself that. Just wait until you realize I’m the one you’ll fall for. Then what?"
I snorted at his audacity. "Not a chance, King. This is a business deal, not a romance novel. Stick to the script."
Before he could reply, I tossed my phone aside and stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The truth was, Jason’s little comment had hit closer to home than I cared to admit. Not because I thought he was right, but because I couldn’t afford for him to be.
This wasn’t some cheesy rom-com. This was my life, my future. And falling for Jason King? That was not part of the plan.
No, I’d play the part, get my father off my back, and then walk away. Clean break. No strings attached.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
I stared at Jason’s message, blinking a few times as if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
"But this clause doesn’t change the fact that I like you, and I think you know that since I already told you."
My first instinct was to laugh, but the little flutter in my chest made me stop. What the hell was that?
I reread the text, trying to decide if he was serious or just messing with me. Jason had a way of sneaking in comments like this, and while I was used to his humor, there was something about this that felt... different.
Before I could overthink it, I typed back:
"You must’ve hit your head or something. Did you forget the part where this is a business arrangement? Keep your feelings to yourself, Jason."
I hit send, my heart hammering in my chest. Why was I even reacting like this? It’s not like I didn’t already know Jason had a thing for me—he’d made it clear enough in his subtle (and not-so-subtle) ways. But seeing it spelled out like that, in writing, made it feel... real.
My phone buzzed almost instantly.
Jason: "So, you’re just going to pretend you didn’t already know? Nice try, Ella. Denial looks good on you, though."
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Of course, he wasn’t going to let this go.
"Jason, I’m serious. This is a contract marriage. Feelings are not part of the deal."
Jason: "Right. A contract marriage. But you and I both know contracts can change. Just saying."
I sat up, my jaw dropping. Was he really trying to negotiate feelings into this like it was just another clause to tweak?
"Nope. Not happening. The no-feelings clause stays. Non-negotiable."
His reply came quickly.
Jason: "Fine, but you can’t make me stop liking you. That’s not how feelings work, Ella. And if you haven’t figured that out by now... well, you’ve got 365 days to learn."
I stared at his words, feeling a mix of annoyance and something I couldn’t quite place. Jason King was impossible.
"Keep dreaming, Jason. I’ve got bigger things to worry about than your feelings."
I threw my phone down, determined to ignore him for the rest of the night. But as I tried to focus on drafting the rest of the contract, his words kept echoing in my head.
"You can’t make me stop liking you."
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
