The Contract Said No Strings Attached (Charlotte) novel Chapter 14

On the other side of town, as soon as Noah and Ethan left, the driver sighed in resignation, climbed into the car, and started the engine.

“Mr. Austin, it was just a false alarm earlier. Everything’s fine now,” he said.

Dylan merely replied with a cool “Mm,” then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to rest.

But the peace didn’t last long. The car had barely been on the road for ten minutes when a harsh squeal of brakes shattered the silence.

“What now?” Dylan opened his eyes, his gaze narrowing in irritation.

The driver looked just as puzzled. “Mr. Austin, please wait a moment, I’ll step out and check.”

A few minutes later, the driver came running back, clearly flustered. “Sir, we’ve got a flat tire! I’m so sorry, but could you please step out of the car? I’ll call someone to fix it right away.”

Dylan was already pressed for time, and now this—one thing after another. His displeasure was written all over his face as he stepped out of the car, his tone icy. “Hurry up.”

It was odd. The ride had been smooth, and out of nowhere, the tire blew. Something about it felt off.

Just then, from the corner of his eye, Dylan noticed a small pin near the tire. He narrowed his eyes, stooped, and picked it up.

Etched onto the pin was a single name: Ethan.

Dylan’s voice was like ice. “Where did this come from?”

The driver, still on the phone, hurried over. The moment he saw the name on the pin, realization dawned on him. “It must have been that brat from earlier! Sir, wait here—I’ll go have a word with him.”

He marched off, but after a few steps, stopped abruptly.

Wait a minute. He’d been keeping a close eye on the kid the whole time. When would Ethan have had the chance?

Confused, the driver stood there, frowning.

Dylan clenched the pin tightly, his gaze sharp and cold. “You have ten minutes. Find that boy.”

His words carried a chill, like the calm before a storm.

No one had ever dared mess with him before—let alone a child.

. . .

Rebecca’s car rolled through the gates of the Thomson estate. She had barely parked when her phone rang.

She answered, and a stranger’s voice came through: “Hello, is this Ethan’s mother?”

Outside, the driver explained the whole situation in detail to Rebecca.

At first, she found it hard to believe. She knew her son—Ethan was mischievous, sure, but he wasn’t a bully. He only lashed out if someone had truly crossed him.

Of all her children, Ethan was the least likely to let a slight go unpunished. Where he got that from, she had no idea.

But when the driver produced the pin—Ethan’s pin—Rebecca recognized it immediately.

With the evidence right in front of her, there was nothing left to say. She chose to keep the peace.

Bending slightly, she apologized to the driver, her tone sincere. “I’m very sorry about my son’s behavior. Whatever the damages, I’ll pay for them.”

The driver, not daring to make the decision himself, replied, “You’d better discuss this with our CEO.”

At that, the car window slid down, revealing Dylan’s stony profile.

Rebecca glanced over, her brows drawing together in faint confusion.

There was something strangely familiar about that face. For an instant, she was transported back five years—to a night shrouded in darkness. She hadn’t seen the man’s face clearly then, but the sharp lines, the coldness in his eyes, the aura he projected—it all felt eerily, unmistakably the same.