“Why should I delete it?”
“I think you’re targeting me…” Winifred Dawson’s voice was hoarse, damaged, far from pleasant. She held the agreement in her hand, her gaze fixed on Leland Burns with a hint of grievance and accusation.
“What if you deliberately drag this out, extending the contract again and again-ten days here, ten days there? Wouldn’t that mean I’d never be able to leave?”
At her words, a faint smirk played at the corners of Leland Burns’ lips. His eyes swept over Winifred from head to toe, lingering with a careless arrogance.
“Oh? Miss Dawson is so confident she could stay by my side for ten days after ten days? If you’re offering your body in exchange, maybe I’d keep you around for a year or two.”
Under his sharp gaze, Winifred felt utterly exposed. To say she didn’t trust Leland Burns would be giving herself too much importance. Perhaps she was nothing more than a plaything to him, something to pass the time. Had Wayne Burns’ words gotten to her?
Winifred fell silent for a few seconds. “I’m just worried…”
“No pressure, no motivation. Don’t worry, Miss Dawson-I reward and punish clearly. Fail, and the contract extends. Succeed, and I’ll raise your pay. If I wanted you by my side longer, I wouldn’t bother with such roundabout methods. Unnecessary trouble.”
Winifred stared at the agreement, muttering, “Just keep your word.”
Leland’s expression turned cold, a flicker of impatience crossing his brow. “Of course.”
Winifred had nothing more to say. With this agreement, she’d follow the rules, do her job, and leave after a hundred days. It wasn’t fair, but at least it was better than empty promises. Her hand trembled as she gripped the pen, her signature shaky and uneven.
After signing and pressing her thumbprint, she pushed the document toward Leland. He took the pen and signed right above her name.
Their signatures side by side made Winifred’s handwriting look even worse-so bad it was painful to look at. She averted her eyes as the rustle of paper filled the air.
Leland organized the agreement, slipping Winifred’s copy into a folder and handing it to her. “Once Garrison Reeves is gone, you’ll move in here.”
Winifred almost protested but stopped herself. This was part of the agreement-she’d obey Leland’s orders without Garrison’s knowledge. The whole thing felt like some cliche affair, a wife sneaking around with a lover.
“I understand.” But how could Garrison ever leave her side? He never trusted her enough to leave her alone for long. His business trips never lasted more than three days, and sometimes he even took her with him. There was no way she’d actually move in with Leland.
Yet reality struck fast. Garrison had struck a deal with Midlands, requiring him to work there long-term-ten days, half a month, sometimes even a full month between returns. This collaboration was hard-won, tangled in complications he’d only just resolved. Now, he’d pour everything into making it succeed.
Garrison packed light. The airport was crowded that Saturday, Winifred’s day off. She stood among the bustling crowd, watching him leave.
She didn’t want him to go. His absence meant days without seeing him-and moving into Leland’s place. She dreaded it. Dealing with Leland during the day was exhausting enough. Nights? She didn’t even want to imagine.
Winifred feared slow, creeping change-the kind of uncontrollable shift that slipped through her fingers the tighter she grasped.
Garrison promised he’d return soon, telling her not to worry. She forced a smile.
He noticed something off. He’d left before, even for longer stretches, but Winifred had never looked at him with such timid fear.
“You’re living a normal life now-work during the day, dinner out or takeout at night. A week will fly by. I’ll finish up as fast as I can.”
He didn’t give a specific date, just “as fast as I can.” How fast was that? A week? Ten days? A month?
“Tell me a day before you come back.”
“Okay.”
They hugged briefly, drawing a few odd glances. Winifred quickly pulled away, standing there like a child on the first day of kindergarten, anxiously waiting for pickup.
There was a saying: dependence was an adult’s greatest weakness. No one could shield you forever. The same person who sheltered you from storms could also plunge you into darkness.