Claudia POV
"I didn’t know you had the sa taste as I did back in university," I comnted while my eyes kept wandering around. "I rember telling you about my dream of owning a Japanese-style penthouse. Did you take inspiration from it or—"
Ray suddenly stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and glared at as if I had said sothing offensive.
"Don’t think too highly of yourself, Claudia. You are not that special for to cater to your silly dreams from more than a decade ago," Ray retorted. "I bought this penthouse for convenience, and it ca with this Japanese-style design. I don’t have ti to renovate it, so I just left it as it is."
"R-right... sorry..." I apologized imdiately. My ears and cheeks must have been red from embarrassnt.
Thinking about it again, we had only dated for a year and then cut contact for more than ten years. I wouldn’t leave a lasting impression on soone like him—soone who could easily find a prettier and richer woman, especially from his own wealth bracket.
Perhaps after our breakup, he had already forgotten about entirely.
Or maybe he rembered from ti to ti—but only the mories of talking trash about him, insulting him and his family, and cursing him to die alone because his heart was made of cold tal.
Ah, if only I could turn back ti, I would’ve slapped my younger self and told her to break up with him amicably. Because Ray had beco very hostile toward now.
As I was busy imagining all the "what if" scenarios between Ray and , my face suddenly hit sothing solid, like a wall.
"Ouch—"
I staggered a few steps back and realized I had bumped into his back when he stopped walking.
"Sit wherever you like," he instructed before walking into another room.
We were currently in the living room, with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the beautiful night view of downtown Los Angeles from above.
Instead of sitting obediently, I walked toward the window and looked down.
The night view here was truly incredible, or dare I say, luxurious. It reminded of the ti I told Ray I’d love to sip a glass of expensive wine while looking at downtown Los Angeles at night from my own penthouse.
Ray might not have chosen this place because of , but at least I still got to see this incredible view.
"I told you to sit, didn’t I?"
I turned around when I heard his voice. He had returned from what I assud was his ho office, holding a suspicious-looking docunt in his hand.
My gut told whatever was inside that docunt wouldn’t be pleasant. Still, I suppressed the bad feeling and gave a thin smile.
"Sorry, I was just admiring the view. It’s not often that I get to see sothing like this."
"You act like you didn’t live in a nicer neighborhood before," Ray scoffed as he walked toward the table. "But if that’s all it takes to make you stay in this apartnt, then be my guest."
I scowled at that and couldn’t help retorting, "Why do I have to stay with you anyway? Why would you house a woman who has no significant role in your life? You should bring your girlfriend here instead."
The thin smile on Ray’s lips vanished instantly.
He didn’t respond to my words. Instead, he slamd the docunt onto the table.
"Read it."
I was ready to argue again, but Ray had always been like this, he disliked argunts and ignored any disagreent I voiced.
We were simply too different to ever have worked out. Though I doubted any sane woman could love this man wholeheartedly.
Since he refused to argue, I swallowed my frustration and walked to the table.
I picked up the docunt. Before reading it, I asked, "What is this about?"
"Your contract," he replied as he sat down, staring at with his dark green eyes, which looked even scarier under the dim desk lamp.
"My... contract? Wait, are you serious about this contract stuff?"
"I never take back my words, Claudia," Ray said. "When you begged to write you down as ntally sane, I risked my credibility as a psychiatrist. So the price you pay will be hefty."
"Why don’t you read it first and see what kind of contract we’ll have?" Ray continued. "Whether you like it or not—that’s not up to you. This is rely a formality."
Once again, Ray threatened in such a calm deanor that it made him far scarier than soone shouting in my face.
In fact, the feeling he gave was the sa as it had been a decade ago. Being around him was like standing still while a snake crept closer. Second by second, it slithered from my heel up to my thigh.
Of course, it sounded ridiculous. But I liked to think I had strong survival instincts, and my instincts were screaming that sothing was very, very wrong with Ray Gatlin.
Nevertheless, I opened the docunt and began reading.
But after reading the title, I imdiately lifted my head and stared at him in shock.
The docunt was titled:
Pet Contract.
"W-what is this, Ray?" I asked.
"It’s exactly what you read. A binding pet contract between us," Ray reaffird. "By signing it, you will beco my lab rat. You are obliged to offer your body to for experintation. I may do whatever I want to your body, as long as it does not cause physical harm."
"You are obliged to stay by my side, which ans you will live in this penthouse with and accompany whenever I travel for business outside California. On top of that, you are forbidden from being involved with another man, because I do not want my lab rat contaminated by another man’s scent."
"And this contract has no fixed duration. I alone will decide when it ends."
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