The Contract Said No Strings Attached (Charlotte) novel Chapter 42

Crystal clicked across the floor in her high heels, weaving through the crowd until she reached a quiet corner on the second floor. Emily was already waiting for her.

Petite as she was, Emily had a sly glint in her eyes.

She leaned in closer and whispered, “Relax. I slipped a waiter some cash to spike Dylan’s drink. Once he has it, there’s no way he’ll get away from you tonight. When the two of you end up together...”

She grinned. “The bride will be you, not Rebecca.”

A cold spark flashed in Crystal’s eyes. She sneered, “Alright. I’ll do as you say.”

She hadn’t wanted things to go this far, but she’d run out of options. This was her last shot at getting Dylan for herself.

There was no way she’d just stand by and let Rebecca marry him.

Emily reached into her pocket and pulled out a hotel key card, pressing it into Crystal’s hand. “Here, I’ve already booked the room. Go up ahead of time and wait.”

Crystal’s face lit up. “God, I love you, Emily!” She planted a noisy kiss on Emily’s cheek.

“Oh, save it for later,” Emily laughed, pushing her away before spinning around and slipping back into the crowd.

Tucked away behind a potted plant, two little boys were deep in conversation.

Ethan clenched his fists, his face scrunched up in outrage. “That mean lady! She wants to mess with my stepdad and—what did she say—‘end up together’... Wait, Noah, what does that even mean?”

Noah’s face was serious as he glanced at the room key in Crystal’s hand. “It means they’re going to do stuff kids aren’t supposed to see. Like kissing.”

“Kissing?” Ethan’s mind started to race. He’d seen enough TV dramas to know that after the main guy and girl kissed, they usually had a baby.

His little face went rigid with determination.

“No way! If they have a baby tonight, what about Mom? Stepdad’s supposed to marry her!”

But then, another message popped up from that same number: If you ignore this, you’re a pig. A big, dumb pig!

Dylan’s eyes sharpened. Two messages like this—maybe it wasn’t a joke after all.

Anyone who could get his personal number had to be someone to watch out for. Years of business had taught him never to underestimate a potential threat.

Except for five years ago—when he’d been injured and that mysterious woman had blindsided him...

He shook his head, forcing those messy memories aside.

He typed back: Who are you? What do you want?

He hit send and waited. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Nothing. The phone stayed stubbornly silent.

Dylan’s expression darkened. Without hesitation, he messaged his assistant: Find out who just texted me, now.