**Chapter Four**

Adrian came home late that night. The penthouse door opened with a heavy click that made my stomach tighten. I was waiting in the living room like always, wearing the black lace lingerie I had bought with his card. My heart was racing, but not with the usual excitement. I had made up my mind. This was going to be the last night. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. The engagement, the cruel words in his office, my mother slipping away while I lived in this golden cage. I was done.

I stood up as he walked in. “Adrian, we need to talk about—”

He didn’t let me finish. In two long steps he was on me. His big hand grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a punishing kiss. It wasn’t soft or loving. It was rough, demanding, almost angry. His mouth crushed mine, his tongue pushing inside like he owned every breath I took. I tried to pull back to speak, but he held me tighter. His other hand gripped my waist hard enough to leave marks.

“No talking,” he growled against my lips. “Not tonight.”

Before I could say anything else, he lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around him on instinct. He carried me straight to the bedroom and threw me down on the big bed. The silk sheets felt cool against my hot skin. I looked up at him, chest rising and falling fast. Part of me wanted to scream everything—about Isabella, about how much I loved him, about how I was leaving. But another part, the bigger part tonight, just wanted to feel him one last time. Really feel him. So I stayed quiet.

Adrian stood over me and stripped off his suit jacket. His eyes were dark and intense. “You belong to me, Elena. Don’t ever forget that.” He loosened his tie and dropped it. Then his shirt came off, showing the hard muscles I knew so well. “You signed the contract. You live in my house. You take my money. You spread your legs when I say.”

He climbed on top of me and kissed me again, even harder. His hand moved down and ripped the lace panties off my body in one strong pull. I gasped, but he didn’t stop. His fingers pushed between my legs, finding me already wet. He always made me wet, even when my heart was breaking.

“This pussy is mine,” he said roughly, sliding two thick fingers inside me. “Say it.”

“It’s yours,” I whispered. My voice shook, but I meant it in that moment. Because tonight I was taking everything he gave. One last time.

He didn’t go slow. He pulled his fingers out and freed his cock. It was hard and heavy as he rubbed it against my entrance. Then he thrust in deep with one powerful stroke. I cried out, my back arching off the bed. He filled me completely, stretching me in that way only he could. It hurt a little, but the pain mixed with pleasure and made my head spin.

Adrian fucked me hard. His hips slammed against mine again and again. The sound of our bodies hitting together filled the room. He held my wrists above my head with one hand while the other gripped my hip, pulling me onto him with every thrust.

“You. Are. Mine.” He said each word with a deep push. “No one else gets this. No one else sees you like this. Understand?”

I nodded, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Not from pain, but from everything I couldn’t say. I loved him so much it hurt worse than his rough hands. But I had decided. After tonight, I would leave. I would find another way for Mom. I couldn’t keep breaking my heart every day.

He flipped me over suddenly, pulling my hips up so I was on my knees. He entered me from behind, even deeper now. His hand came down in a sharp smack on my ass. I moaned loud, pushing back against him. He did it again, then grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take everything I give you.”

I did. I pushed back against every hard thrust. My body shook with pleasure as he fucked me like he was trying to remind me who I belonged to. I came hard the first time, crying out his name, my walls squeezing around him. He didn’t stop. He kept going, rough and fast, until I came again.

The night stretched on like that. He took me in every way he wanted. On the bed. Against the big window with the city lights below us. In the shower where the hot water ran over our bodies while he lifted one of my legs and drove into me. He came inside me the first time, groaning my name. Then after a short break where he just held me down and kissed me hard, he got hard again and took me on the floor.

Every time I tried to speak, he kissed me quiet or put his fingers in my mouth. “No words,” he would say. “Just feel who owns you.”

I let him. I received everything because this was goodbye in my heart. I touched his back, his chest, his face when he let me. I memorized the way his muscles moved, the way he smelled, the low sounds he made when he was deep inside me. I wanted to remember every second. Because tomorrow I would pack my things and walk away from this life. From him.

Hours passed. The sky outside started to turn gray with morning light. We had sex again and again. Sometimes slow and deep, sometimes fast and punishing. He reminded me over and over.

“You belong here. In my bed. Under me. Say it.”

“I belong to you,” I said each time, even as my heart whispered *not anymore*.

I came so many times I lost count. My body was sore and tired, but I still pulled him closer. I kissed him back with everything I had. Tears mixed with sweat on my face. He tasted them but didn’t ask why. He never asked. That was the contract. No personal things. No real feelings.

At one point, near dawn, we lay tangled on the bed. He was still inside me, moving slow and lazy now. His hand stroked my hair almost gently. For a second I pretended this was real love. That he cared. That there was no Isabella waiting for him in the real world.

But I knew better.

When he finally pulled out and rolled onto his back, breathing heavy, I curled against his side. My body ached in the best and worst ways. I felt full of him, marked by him, used by him. And I loved it. That was the sad part. Even knowing I had to leave, I still loved him.

Adrian’s hand rested heavy on my hip. “Good girl,” he said quietly. “You remembered your place tonight.”

I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. The same heartbeat I had fallen in love with. Soon the sun would come up. He would go to work. And I would start packing.

But for these last quiet minutes, I stayed. Feeling him. Holding on to the pain and the pleasure together. This was the end of my time as Elena Voss, the mistress. I would find strength for Mom another way. Maybe get a second job again. Maybe ask for help from old friends. Anything but this slow death of my heart.

Adrian fell asleep first. I lay awake, watching the light grow outside the windows. My mind was made up. I would leave a note. Nothing dramatic. Just that I couldn’t do it anymore. That the contract was broken in my heart even if it wasn’t on paper.

I touched his arm one last time. “Goodbye,” I whispered so softly he couldn’t hear.

The night had been long and rough and full of him. Exactly what I needed for the last time. Now I had to be strong enough to walk away from the only man I had ever loved.

**Chapter Five**

I woke up slowly the next morning, my body aching in that deep, familiar way. Every muscle felt sore and used. Between my legs was still tender from how many times Adrian had taken me during the night. I reached out across the big silk sheets without opening my eyes, expecting to feel his warm, hard body beside me. But the bed was empty. Cold.

He was already gone, I sat up, blinking at the bright sunlight coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet. His side of the bed was made up neatly, like he had never been there. No note. No message. Just the faint smell of his cologne on the pillow. That was Adrian. He gave commands, took what he wanted, and left without looking back. Last night he had fucked me for hours—rough, possessive, reminding me over and over that I belonged to him. And I had taken it all because I knew it was the last time.

Now it was really over.

I stayed in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. My heart felt heavy, like someone had put a stone inside it. I loved him. I still loved him even after everything. The cruel words in his office, the news about Isabella, the way he never asked about my life. But love wasn’t enough. Not when it hurt this much. He didn’t love me back. He never would. I was just the mistress in the contract. The secret girl he paid to keep in his bed. Nothing more.

Tears stung my eyes, but I wiped them away fast. I couldn’t cry anymore. I had made up my mind last night while he slept. Today I was leaving. For good.

I got up slowly. My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to move. I pulled on a simple robe and walked to the big closet. Most of the clothes in there were expensive dresses, lingerie, and shoes he had bought me. Beautiful things for a beautiful cage. I didn’t want them. I only took a few simple outfits—jeans, t-shirts, one sweater, and the black dress I wore the day I went to his office. I stuffed them into a small bag I found at the back of the closet. Nothing fancy. Just enough to get by until I figured out my next step.

The black Amex card sat on the nightstand where he had tossed it. I looked at it for a long time. That card had paid for everything—Mom’s care home, the therapies, the nurses. It had saved her from slipping away faster in some cheap place. But I couldn’t take it with me. Using his money now would feel like selling myself again. I left it there.

Next came the hardest part. I sat at the desk in the living room with a piece of paper and a pen. My hand shook as I wrote. The words came slow, but they came.

*Adrian,*

*Last night was our goodbye, even if you didn’t know it. I can’t do this anymore. I saw the news about your engagement to Isabella. I saw her at your office. It hurts too much. I know the contract said no love, no questions, no personal talk. I broke that rule. I fell in love with you. Stupid, right? You never loved me. I was just your mistress. Someone to fuck and command and pay to stay quiet.*

*I wish you a happy married life. Be happy with her. She fits your world. I never did.*

*Don’t bother looking for me. I’m gone. The contract is over for me. Take care of yourself.*

*Elena*

I read it twice. Tears dropped on the paper and made the ink run a little. I folded it and left it on the pillow on his side of the bed. Simple. Honest. No drama. He would find it tonight when he came home expecting me to be waiting like a good girl.

I looked around the penthouse one last time. The big windows with the city view. The bed where he had claimed me so many times. The kitchen where I cooked for him. The terrace where I had cried alone after seeing the news. This place had been my home for six months, but it was never really mine. It was his. Everything was his.

I picked up my small bag and walked to the door. My heart pounded hard. Part of me wanted to stay. To wait for him and hope he would change. To keep taking his money for Mom. But I couldn’t. The pain was too big. Every time he touched me now, I would think about Isabella wearing his ring. Every command would remind me that I was nothing to him. I had to go.

I called a cab from my phone. Not the driver he paid for. A normal one. When it arrived downstairs, I took the private elevator for the last time. The doorman nodded at me like always, but he didn’t know this was goodbye. I stepped out into the busy street and got into the yellow cab.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

I gave him the address of the care home. I needed to see Mom first. Even if she didn’t know me, I needed to sit with her and feel strong. The cab pulled away from the tall building. I watched it get smaller in the mirror until it disappeared behind other cars. That was it. I was really leaving.

The ride was long. I leaned my head against the window and let my mind go back over everything. I remembered the Sapphire Gala night when Adrian first spoke to me. “Come with me.” That simple command changed my life. I was desperate then. Mom’s amnesia had gotten worse after the accident. The bills were piling up. I was scared I would lose her completely. Signing that contract felt like the only way to save her. Unlimited money. Security. All I had to do was obey and keep quiet about my real life.

I never told him about Mom. The contract said no personal discussions. He knew nothing about the woman who raised me alone, who worked two jobs so I could go to school, who lost her memories and now looked at me like a stranger. He didn’t know how much it hurt every time I visited her. And he never asked. That was the deal.

But somewhere in the middle, I fell in love. With his strong hands. With the way he looked at me when he was inside me. With the rare moments when he almost seemed gentle. I loved the cold, commanding man who only spoke in orders. I loved him even when he reminded me of my place yesterday in his office. Even when he fucked me all night without letting me talk.

The cab stopped at the care home. I paid with the little cash I had left and walked inside. The hallways smelled like lavender and clean floors, the same as always. I found Mom in her room by the window. She was wearing the shawl I bought her.

“Mom,” I said softly, sitting beside her.

She looked at me with that polite, confused smile. “Are you the new nurse? My daughter Elena is supposed to visit soon. She’s a good girl.”

My chest tightened, but I smiled anyway. “Yes, she is. She loves you very much.”

I held her hand and talked to her for a long time. I told her stories about when I was little, about the cookies we burned in the oven, about how she used to sing me to sleep. She listened like it was a nice story about someone else. Some days it broke me. Today it gave me strength. I was doing this for both of us. Leaving Adrian meant finding a real way to take care of her. Maybe two jobs. Maybe help from old friends. Maybe even asking the facility for payment plans. It would be hard, but it wouldn’t kill my heart every single day.

After an hour, I kissed her forehead. “I love you, Mom. I’ll be back soon. As Elena.”

She patted my hand. “Tell Elena I miss her.”

I walked out with tears in my eyes, but my steps were surer now. I called another cab and asked the driver to take me to a cheap motel on the other side of the city. Nothing fancy. Just a place to think and plan. As the car moved through the busy streets, I thought about Adrian finding the note tonight. Would he be angry? Surprised? Or would he just shrug and move on to his perfect fiancée?

He didn’t love me. I knew that deep down. If he did, he would have seen the pain in my eyes. He would have asked why I cried sometimes after sex. He would have broken the contract rules just once to know the real me. But he never did. I was the toy. The obedient mistress. The girl who spread her legs and took the black card.

The motel room was small and clean enough. I sat on the bed with my small bag beside me. No more silk sheets. No more penthouse views. Just me. Elena Voss, starting over. It scared me, but it also felt free.

I thought about last night again. The way he had growled “You’re mine” while thrusting deep. The way I had come apart for him over and over. The way I had memorized his touch because I knew it was the end. My body still carried his marks—faint bruises on my hips, soreness between my thighs. I touched them gently and whispered to the empty room, “Goodbye, Adrian.”

Tears came then, harder than before. I curled up on the bed and let them fall. I cried for Mom’s lost memories. I cried for the love I gave to a man who saw me as a contract. I cried for the girl who signed those papers six months ago thinking money could fix everything. It couldn’t. Not the empty parts.

But I was done crying forever. When the tears stopped, I sat up and made a list on another piece of paper. Jobs to apply for. Places that might help with Mom’s care. Ways to live cheap. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Outside, the city kept moving. Cars honked. People lived their normal lives. Somewhere in that big world, Adrian was probably in meetings, planning his wedding, being the powerful man he always was. He wouldn’t come looking. The note said not to, and he followed rules when it suited him.

I lay back down and closed my eyes. My body remembered every second of last night. The rough sex. The commands. The way he filled me and marked me. It had been intense and emotional and full of everything I felt for him. But it was the last time.

Tomorrow I would start fresh. For Mom. For myself. Without Adrian Vale and his contracts and his cold commands, I was free even if my heart still hurt like hell.