My contract love story

The first rays of dawn peeked through the window as Ashleigh was jolted awake by Mr. Atkinson at 4:00 am. Following Adrian’s instructions, Mr. Atkinson ensured Ashleigh began her duties promptly. After a quick confirmation that she was awake, he excused himself, allowing her a brief thirty minutes for a shower before rejoining him.

Shadowing Mr. Atkinson, like a loyal but weary companion, Ashleigh observed him inspect the work of the first and second-floor staff. He explained the roles: the first floor comprised cleaning personnel responsible for maintaining both her and Adrian’s supplies, as well as cleaning the theater room and her quarters (though she witnessed them cleaning that morning due to her early start). Adrian’s room and study, however, were Mr. Atkinson’s sole domain. Since Ashleigh wasn’t yet allowed access to these private areas, Mr. Atkinson assigned her supervisory duties in his place while he cleaned.

Their tour continued downstairs, where Ashleigh was introduced to the remaining staff. Mr. Atkinson ensured she understood the oversight expected of her everything from overseeing the groundskeepers and interior maintenance to assigning security personnel throughout the house and estate. Finally, they reached the kitchen, where Chef Frank was already whipping up breakfast. Ashleigh, with a heavy heart, took charge of menu planning for the week, including breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even the staff meals.

As if the workload wasn’t daunting enough, Mr. Atkinson then delved into the mansion’s inventory management system, explaining how to monitor supplies on a weekly and monthly basis. He even presented the financial accounts, dropping another bombshell on Ashleigh.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Normally, I present Master Adrian with a monthly summary of the inventory and financial reports,” he explained.

“However, he has decided you’ll be responsible for preparing and presenting them this month.”

Ashleigh stifled a sigh of exasperation. The sheer volume of tasks since dawn was already overwhelming, and yet Adrian continued to pile on the responsibilities. She stole a glance at the now-bright sky, a stark reminder of her own job and the life she was leaving behind.

“Hold that thought, Mr. Atkinson!” Ashleigh practically vibrated with barely contained chaos.

“Turns out I’m running behind schedule for a prior engagement.” She snatched her phone, a whirlwind of motion as she bolted from the room.

Mr. Atkinson, ever the Stoic butler, could only raise an eyebrow in her wake.

“Breakfast, Madame?” he called after her, but the only answer was the slam of a distant door.

The car ride to the office was a blur of exhaustion-induced sleep. Ashleigh stumbled out, greeted only by the concerned murmur of the driver as she practically fell into the office building. The fluorescent lights assaulted her bleary eyes as she reached Mrs. Smith’s office. Sweat plastered her once-crisp clothes, and her hair resembled a war zone. This, unfortunately, was the glorious image she presented to her colleagues as she stumbled through the door, mere seconds before the clock struck eight.

A collective gasp rippled through the room as Ashleigh slammed her ID card into the reader, a desperate beat of triumph before collapsing into the nearest chair. Worried stares drilled into her from Tristan, Jake, James, Fiona, and the rest of the team. Mrs. Smith loomed over her, a thundercloud gathering above a tightly crossed chest.

“You’re late, Ashleigh,” Mrs. Smith boomed, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Ashleigh forced a smile, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

“Apologies, Mrs. Smith,” she lied, the weight of a hundred withheld secrets pressing down on her. “Lost track of time, you know how it is.”

Mrs. Smith’s skeptical gaze could curdle milk. “Let this be a one-time occurrence,” she warned, her voice laced with steel.

“Unexcused tardiness will not be tolerated.” With that, she swept out of the room, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

The meeting dissolved as quickly as it formed, colleagues offering a mixture of concern and curiosity. James and Fiona rushed to her side, while Jake and Tristan lingered awkwardly nearby

“Ash, what happened? You look like you wrestled a bear and lost,” James blurted, concern etching lines on his face.

Ashleigh forced another smile, a newfound resolve hardening her features. “Nothing major, guys. Just a late-night study session that ran long.” She straightened her clothes, ignoring the damp chill and the lingering scent of sleep.

“Fresh shirt, coming right up.”

With that, she marched towards her aunt’s office locker, oblivious to the wide-eyed stares of her friends and the silent questions hanging heavy in the air. James and Fiona turned to look away to give her privacy but saw the pair who stood there embarrassed and they both gasped loudly.

Ashleigh froze. Her heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs. A quick glance back confirmed her worst nightmare – Jake and Tristan, the bodyguards, were still lingering by the lockers. They’d witnessed the whole… revealing… display.

“What are you still doing here?” she hissed, her voice tight with a mixture of annoyance and humiliation. They stammered apologies, mumbled excuses, and finally shuffled out under James’ pointed glare.

Fiona and James exchanged a look, a silent apology hanging heavy in the air. Ashleigh sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. The morning had been a disaster, and it felt like things were just going from bad to worse.

“Today just keeps getting better,” she muffled, her voice thick with frustration.

Fiona reached out, her touch warm and comforting on Ashleigh’s shoulder. “Hey, chin up,” she soothed. “It’ll get better, you’ll see.”

James, ever the optimist, piped up, “On the bright side, you’ve got a killer bod. At least they had something nice to look at.”

Both Fiona and Ashleigh shot him with withering glares.

“James! I’m their boss!” Ashleigh exclaimed, finally pulling her hands away.

“Hey, just offering a silver lining,” he defended, feigning innocence. Fiona swatted him on the head, clearly unimpressed by his “two-brain-cell” suggestion.

The rest of the day was a tense dance. Ashleigh managed to avoid Jake and Tristan, successfully burying herself in work on the executive floor. She restocked supplies, cleaned like a woman possessed, even skipped lunch to stay out of sight. When the hunger pangs became impossible to ignore, she holed up in a makeshift storage room off the executive lounge, burying herself in her textbooks. Despite the morning’s chaos, her dedication to her studies remained. Today, a new tutor is arriving to help her prepare for the college entrance exams. She was determined to impress.

Just as she was starting to wind down for the day, a ringing phone shattered the peace. Mr. Atkinson’s voice crackled through the line.

“Apologies for interrupting, Madame,” he began, “but there are a few urgent matters that require your immediate attention. They can’t wait any longer.”

Ashleigh groaned internally. Just what she needed more work, and more importantly, more Mr. Atkinson.

“Can’t it wait a few hours?” she pleaded. “I’m swamped.”

“Unfortunately, Madame,” Mr. Atkinson replied, his voice leaving no room for argument. “It absolutely cannot.”

“Well then,” she spat, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

“I’ll start coming home. I will meet my aunt first.” This wasn’t just about the workload anymore; this was about control.

Adrian was trying to manipulate her, try to weigh her down so she can ultimately give in and beg but she was done playing his game. She stalked down to her aunt’s office, the fire in her belly a stark contrast to the exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. Her aunt looked up at the sound of the door, concern furrowing her brow.

“Ashleigh, what’s wrong?” The worry in her aunt’s voice softened the sharp edges of Ashleigh’s anger for a moment.

“It’s nothing, Aunt” she lied, forcing a smile. But the lie died in her throat as her aunt’s next words sent a jolt of ice through

her veins.

“My dear, I just got a call from Adrian. He says you’ll be having a half-day because of the burden of…” Her aunt trailed off, her voice laced with apology. But Ashleigh’s ears had perked up at a single word.

“Aunt, you said Adrian called you?” Her voice was low, the calmness a mere facade for the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“He did,” her aunt confirmed, looking increasingly bewildered.

“He said that Mr. Atkinson had some urgent issues concerning the house which needed your full attention. And you’ll be taking half-days from now on” A shiver ran down Ashleigh’s spine. This confirmed her thoughts on Adrian’s tactics.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across her face. “No worries aunt, there won’t be a need for that. Only today will there be a half-day”