The Contract Said No Strings Attached (Charlotte) novel Chapter 33

Dylan barely glanced up. The flash of blue hair caught his eye, a flicker of distaste passing through his gaze before he returned to his work, head down, pen in hand.

Jonas Frost sauntered over, hands buried casually in his pockets, a teasing grin on his lips. “Dylan, rumor has it you’re getting married. And not just to anyone—the Thomson family’s long-lost heiress herself. Rebecca, right?”

Dylan’s expression remained cool and detached. He answered with a quiet, noncommittal “Yeah,” as if none of it concerned him.

Jonas threw his hands up, feigning shock. “You’re kidding me! This is your wedding we’re talking about—the biggest moment of your life! How are you so calm?”

Setting his pen aside, Dylan narrowed his eyes. “How do you expect me to react?”

Jonas rubbed his chin, brow furrowed theatrically. “Word is, Ms. Thomson already has kids. Not just one—four of them! Seriously, man, are you really planning to step in and play dad?”

Dylan’s face betrayed not the slightest hint of emotion. “So what?”

Jonas groaned in disbelief. “You’re the heir to the Austin Group. You could have any woman you want, but you’re settling for someone who already has children? What’s the appeal? Is it her looks, her gentle personality, her killer figure, or are you just relieved she’s already done the whole childbirth thing and saved you the trouble?”

Dylan shot him a cold, sharp look. “If you don’t get it, then stop asking.”

Jonas pursed his lips, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. It’s not like you’re some blushing virgin, anyway. By the way, has anyone ever found the woman you slept with five years ago?”

At the mention of that night, Dylan’s expression darkened, as if a shadow had fallen across his features.

Jonas hesitated, realizing he’d hit a nerve. He scrambled to smooth things over. “Come on, man, it’s been five years. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on it?”

A glint of frost flickered in Dylan’s eyes. “Jonas. You’re talking too much.”

Jonas snapped his mouth shut, recognizing he’d crossed a line.

Everyone knew that night five years ago was Dylan’s sore spot—the one thing you never brought up. The infamous Mr. Austin, taken advantage of by some unknown woman who then vanished into thin air… If that ever got out, it would be a massive scandal.

Desperate to backtrack, Jonas stammered, “All I’m saying is, she’s got kids and you’re not exactly squeaky clean yourself. Maybe you two are more of a match than you think…”

A moment later, he looked up and realized Jonas had already slipped out, vanishing without a sound.

Figures. He runs fast enough when he senses trouble.

Dylan’s eyes dimmed. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a red beaded bracelet—the only token left from the woman five years ago. He’d held onto it all this time.

Five years. Where are you?

He’d spent all these years searching for her. Dylan was a man obsessed with both physical and emotional cleanliness. Even though, back then, when he’d been wheelchair-bound, that mysterious woman had barged into his life and taken advantage of him—he’d wanted to kill her afterward—yet, he still wanted to find her.

And then…

He closed his fist around the bracelet, tendons standing out on his forearm. After a deep breath, he opened his eyes, a stubborn glint in them.

A minute later, Dylan dialed his assistant, his voice icy and measured. “You have two more months. If you still can’t find her by then, drop it.”