My contract love story

A wide smile spread across her face. “Tonight, let loose and sing your hearts out! Food and drinks are available for all, and feel free to mingle and enjoy yourselves. Let the night begin!” she declared, throwing her arms open in a welcoming gesture. The staff erupted in cheers, their anticipation for a unique and exciting evening palpable.

As the night unfolded, Ashleigh’s initial hesitation melted away, replaced by a wave of excitement. Chef Larry kicked things off, taking the stage and electrifying the crowd with an upbeat song. When the last note faded, he ushered Ashleigh onto the makeshift platform, the microphone thrust into her hand. With a deep breath, she launched into a powerful rendition of her favorite song. The room erupted in applause and cheers, a surge of freedom washing over her a feeling she hadn’t experienced in weeks.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

Chef Larry rejoined her on stage, their voices harmonizing perfectly as they belted out a duet. Even Susan, unable to resist the infectious energy, found herself singing along, her sweet voice adding another layer to the chorus. The night flowed with laughter, music, and joyous revelry. Ashleigh, momentarily forgetting the weight of her studies, reveled in the pure joy of the moment. For the first time in weeks, she felt like her true self again carefree, happy, and brimming with life. The staff, too, cast off their usual reserve, choosing songs, belting out lyrics, sharing laughter and food, and interacting freely with each other. Some even approached Ashleigh, surprised to discover their previously stern “Madame” possessed a warmth they hadn’t known existed. As the evening drew to a close, Ashleigh turned to Larry, her smile filled with genuine gratitude. “Thank you for this, Larry,” she said, her voice sincere. “I needed this release tonight.” Larry returned the smile, his eyes radiating warmth. “Anytime, Ashleigh. Remember, all work and no play makes for a dull scholar. We should definitely do this again sometime.”

The night of music and laughter left Ashleigh feeling rejuvenated. Briefly, she’d forgotten the looming exams and the pressure of her studies, simply enjoying the company around her. Larry, in particular, had been a constant source of support and encouragement, and a flicker of gratitude for his presence in her life warmed her heart.

However, not everyone shared her enthusiasm. Mr. Atkinson, a silent observer throughout the evening, seemed to pick up on the subtle body language between Ashleigh and Chef Larry, particularly their closeness. Once everyone dispersed for the night, he picked up the tablet and placed a call to his employer.

Adrian, engrossed in work at his office, looked up as Mr. Turner, his secretary, entered with a call from Mr. Atkinson.

“Answer it,” Adrian instructed, and the call was connected on speakerphone.

“Good evening, sir,” Mr. Atkinson’s voice greeted politely through the speaker.

“Yes, Mr. Atkinson,” Adrian responded, a hint of weariness creeping into his voice. “How has the day gone?”

Mr. Atkinson launched into a detailed account, everything seeming mundane until he reached his true purpose for calling.

“However, sir, there was an unexpected turn of events today.”

“What is it?” Adrian inquired, his attention sharpening.

“For the first time, Mrs. Cagliari decided to host a karaoke night for the staff this evening,” Mr. Atkinson informed him.

Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Karaoke?” he echoed, skepticism lacing his tone.

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Atkinson confirmed.

“Apparently, she intended it as a reward for everyone’s hard work.” A faint smile played on his lips, a silent amusement at Ashleigh’s unorthodox leadership style.

He may not agree with such activities, but her sincerity was undeniable. He entertained the image of Ashleigh belting out a tune in front of the staff a sight he wouldn’t mind witnessing.

“Sounds like a lively evening then,” Adrian commented dryly.

“Indeed, sir. It seems Mrs. Cagliari needed this release. When the new Chef Larry suggested the idea, she readily agreed. She seemed genuinely light-hearted this evening, even singing a few duets with him,” Mr. Atkinson continued, his voice neutral but his message clear.

Adrian’s pen clattered to the desk as he snatched the phone from Mr. Turner, his gaze hardening.

“Mr. Atkinson,” he began, his voice low and dangerous, “walk me through the events of this evening.”

As Mr. Atkinson recounted the details of the karaoke night, the room seemed to grow colder with each passing second. Adrian’s eyes narrowed, his imagination conjuring scenes of Ashleigh and Larry in close proximity. By the time Mr. Atkinson finished, the air crackled with Adrian’s barely contained fury. Even Mr. Turner felt a suffocating pressure emanating from his usually composed boss.

“It appears Ashleigh hasn’t established clear boundaries with the staff,” Adrian muttered, his jaw clenched in disapproval.

“Mr. Atkinson, I require immediate information on this new Chef Larry. His appointment as head chef in Chef Frank’s absence was news to me.” His voice was laced with icy disapproval.

Mr. Atkinson simply nodded in acknowledgment before ending the call. Left alone in the tense silence, Adrian’s frustration bubbled over. He impulsively typed a message on his phone, his fingers flying across the keyboard: “Ashleigh, I’ve been informed about your recent behavior with Larry. It’s unacceptable. Maintain a professional distance. I’ll be home soon, and we’ll have a long talk.”

He reread the message, a dark scowl etching his features. With a sigh of dissatisfaction, he deleted the accusatory text and tossed the phone into Mr. Turner’s waiting hand.

“Turner,” he barked, his voice sharp, “reschedule my return for next weekend.”

Mr. Turner blinked, momentarily stunned. “But sir, there’s still a lot to be finalized regarding the contract…” he stammered, attempting to reason with his clearly agitated boss.

Adrian cut him off with a withering glare. “Did I stutter, Turner? Make the necessary arrangements to ensure my return next weekend. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes sir,” Mr. Turner squeaked, his throat tight with apprehension.

He scurried out of the room, leaving Adrian alone with his simmering anger. The distance between him and Ashleigh seemed to widen with each passing moment. It was clear he needed to take action to ensure Ashleigh understood her place as his wife, and as the mistress of his mansion.