His Contract Bride for Christmas

Seven

Dani:

The house was too quiet when I woke up.

It wasn't the peaceful quiet I usually craved but the suffocating kind that made my skin crawl. I stood in the kitchen, staring at the coffee mug in my hands as if it could tell me what was wrong.

Ryan had been acting strange all day yesterday—distracted, like he was here but not really here. I'd chalked it up to the tension with Will, but now, as the morning sun rose, the feeling in my chest wouldn't go away.

I finished washing the dishes, expecting him to walk into the kitchen for breakfast and coffee any minute. When he didn't, I wandered to the living room, hoping to find him sprawled on the couch, flipping through one of the books he'd brought with him.

But the sofa was empty.

"Ryan?" I called out, my voice cutting through the silence.

No answer.

The unease in my chest flared into full-blown panic. I checked the guest room, but it was empty, too. The bed was made, but his duffel bag was gone.

It was like he'd vanished.

I stumbled back into the living room, my mind racing. That's when I saw a plain white envelope on the coffee table with my name scrawled on the front in messy handwriting.

My hands shook as I opened it, and what I found inside caught my breath.

Cash. More money than I'd ever seen in one place, neatly bundled together. At least $5,000 extra, on top of what he owed me for the room.

And a note.

Dani,

I'm sorry to leave like this, but something's come up, and I need to go back to the city. I'm leaving you the $5,000 for the painting—it's worth every penny—and an additional $2,000 for the room.

I know things have been tough, but I promise I'll stay in touch.

You're stronger than you think, Dani. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Ryan

The painting.

I glanced at the door, and a raw feeling settled deep in my chest. I knew it wasn't there anymore, and knowing it was out there in the world was just as scary.

I stepped through the still-cracked door; it was gone. He had really taken it.

I sank onto the couch, the envelope still clutched in my hands. My emotions were a tangled mess—anger, confusion, gratitude, and something else I couldn't quite name.

He'd left, but he'd also left a promise to stay in touch.

Somehow, that made it worse.

I felt like he politely dumped out because he realized he was in over his head, and who could blame him? I would run, too, if I could. But unlike him, I was stuck. I just hoped he was okay. I hope he found what he was looking for here…

After a few minutes of sulking, I made coffee and drank it, his features swarming my mind. Before I knew it, I was in that room again, staring at a blank canvas that didn't stay blank very long as visions of him dancing through my memory came alive across the canvas in shades of black and gray.

Ryan:

The city lights blurred as I drove through the empty streets, the shadows of the night wrapping around me like a blanket of regret.

My father's voice echoed in my ears from the earlier call: sharp, commanding, and laced with the kind of disappointment only he could deliver.

"You've had your fun, Ryan. It's time to come home and handle your responsibilities. You've avoided them long enough."

I gritted my teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter. I hated that he still had this hold over me, that I couldn't fully escape the weight of the family name and the expectations that came with it.

But leaving Dani behind had been the hardest part.

I glanced at the passenger seat where the painting rested, its vibrant colors muted in the dim light. Taking it had felt wrong, like stealing a piece of her, but I needed her to be seen. The world needed to see her, and I would ensure the world did.

As I pulled into the underground parking garage of my building, I made a silent promise to myself—and to her.

I'd be back.

Not just because of the painting or to settle the score with Will.

But for… her…

Ignoring my fascination with her was the hardest thing I had ever done. Knowing I had more money than I knew what to do with and couldn't just hand it over was killing me… she deserved the money a hell of a lot more than I did.

On the way up to my penthouse, I was trying to figure out how to make an anonymous donation to pay the mortgage off, but I was afraid it would make her hate me and make her feel trapped by something she could never escape. The thought of that haunted me the whole way up the elevator and through the doors of a place that didn't feel comforting. It didn't feel cozy anymore. It just felt cold and empty.

The following day, my coffee tasted bitter, like earth and regret. It wasn't her coffee, her stained coffee mugs, or her kitchen, which the sun had painted with hope.

One glance at the painting had me pouring the rest down the drain, snatching my coat, gently taking the canvas, and leaving the penthouse with an excited bubble inside my chest.

Julian's gallery was a world away from the comfort of Dani's home, but her presence seemed to fill the space anyway. I stood in his private office, the painting propped up on an easel, its vibrant colors glowing under the soft light.

Julian circled it, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He hadn't said a word since I'd unveiled it, and the silence was starting to get to me.

"Well?" I asked, crossing my arms. "What do you think?"

He stopped in front of the painting, his hands on his hips. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something I rarely saw in him: awe.

"It's incredible," he said finally, his voice hushed. "Raw, emotional... it's like she poured her soul into it."

"She did," I said, my chest tightening at the memory of Dani standing in front of it, her fingers smudged with paint, her eyes distant but burning with passion.

Julian turned to me, his expression serious. "Who is she?"

"Her name's Dani," I said. "She's... complicated. She's not exactly looking for fame, but she's got talent. More than talent—she's got something incredible. You should have seen her paint, man. It was beautiful, like a soft dance."

Julian nodded, his gaze returning to the painting. "This belongs in the gala. It would steal the show."

I hesitated. "She's not going to agree to that easily."

"Then I'll convince her," Julian said, a spark of determination in his eyes.

"Where does she live?"

I hesitated again, knowing how Dani would react to someone like Julian showing up uninvited. But if anyone could get through to her, it was him.

"She's out in Danville," I said finally, giving him the address. "But don't push her too hard. She's been through a lot."

Julian gave me a look. "Ryan, I've convinced stubborn artists to take risks for years. Trust me, I've got this."

I watched him leave his office so hurriedly to get to Dani that he forgot his keys and left his coat. When he left the second time, I knew this was it… this was the thing that would save her house.