C8: Signing the Contract

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Derek sank into the chair on the patio and placed his phone on the armrest.

Ysabelle blinked and cast him an incredulous look.

Complaints? Dissatisfaction?

The contract was unbelievably perfect. She would have to be crazy to raise any displeasure with it.

Once her name was signed across the dotted lines, as long as she worked for him, she would want for nothing.

She was only a maid, but she was being offered a salary equal to someone with a college degree.

If she used the money frugally, she could save enough to live a comfortable life for years.

Maybe I can even go back to school, she thought wistfully. The image of her late father flashed through her mind.

The look of disappointment on his face, moments before he had breathed his last, had always haunted her.

He had died because of her.

He had had so many dreams for her and had always believed that among his three kids, she was the one with the most potential.

There was no doubt he had also loved her the most, but in the end, she had disappointed him the most.

The guilt from that year made her shoulders sag and the light in her eyes dim.

She couldn’t help but mock herself. So what if she was finally able to achieve the dreams he had for her?

It was not like he was around to see it and celebrate her success.

But more than that, she was very much aware that nothing other than her death could earn her her mother’s forgiveness.

Even that would not be enough, a tiny voice at the back of her mind mocked her.

Seated across from her, with his long legs stretched before him, Derek subtly cleared his throat, snapping her back to the present.

Looking up, she cast him an apologetic smile and shook her head to dispel the sad thoughts and painful memories.

“The contract is fine. I have no complaints.”

“Okay then,” Derek said. “Go ahead and sign it. Once you do, you will officially become part of Lupasha Holdings.”

Ysabelle, who had already filled in the other details, quickly scrawled her name and signature across all three copies of the eight-page contract, lest he change his mind.

Derek leaned back in his leather seat and watched as she flipped through the pages and signed.

When she was done, she pushed it across the table toward him and placed her hands in her lap.

Derek reached for it and casually flipped through. There was only one page he was interested in.

Marital status: separated

Number of children: none

Mmmm. Interesting, he thought.

“You have beautiful handwriting,” he complimented her. Leaning forward, he placed the contract back in the folder.

“Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her gaze fixed on her hands in her lap.

“Is this the contact number you use all the time?”

“Yes.”

At her reply, he reached for his phone on the armrest and punched in her number.

A second later, Ysabelle’s phone vibrated. She pulled it out from the pocket of her worn-out blue cold-shoulder tie-dye peasant dress.

“That’s my number,” Derek said.

Ysabelle quickly saved it.

“I’ll show you the place and your living quarters,” he said, rising to his feet.

Ysabelle rose and followed him.

“Will there be anyone else here apart from you?”

“No. But I’m sure my family might pop in occasionally.”

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Until a week back, he had been living at Orchid Manor, the family home of the Lupashas.

Set on the shores of Lake Cuando, the magnificent lakefront manor which had its own vineyard oozed elegance and opulence.

All five siblings had never moved out, even after they got married. After all, the two- hundred-thousand-square-foot manor was large enough to house an army.

Living with the whole family was great on its own, but that also meant everyone was into everybody’s business.

Especially his.

Neither the ninety-thousand-square-foot manor nor the five-hundred-acre estate could provide him with the solitude he desperately needed.

As the only male child among the five siblings, they had all taken it upon themselves to see to it that he settled down.

Almost every other week, there would be a new potential partner introduced to him.

It had prompted him to move out. He hoped the distance would keep his family out of his business, though he was very much aware that would only happen the day pigs grew wings and flew.

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Sitting on ten acres of land, Derek’s dazzling three-story house boasted eight ensuite bedrooms and ten bathrooms. Two were on the first floor, while the rest were distributed across the second and third floors.

The house, save for the lounge and patio, was yet to be decorated.

Derek’s bedroom occupied most of the third floor and had its own private study. The his-and-hers boutique-styled walk-in closets could have been apartments on their own, and the two his-and-hers bathrooms were no different. Both shared a sauna.

One had the luxury of using the grand sweeping staircase or the elevator that went all the way down to the underground garage.

The house also had two pools, one indoor and one outside next to the entertainment pavilion.

Apart from those, there was a spa, a wine cellar, a 50-seat theater room, a large library with built-in shelves, and two gyms.

By the time they were done with the tour, Ysabelle was in love.

“Sir Derek, your place is really beautiful!” she squealed excitedly.

Standing a head taller than her as they walked over the bridge above the duck pond, Derek smiled.

“It sure is,” he said softly, looking at her with an unfathomable expression in his hooded eyes.

Her lovely eyes gleamed with appreciation and made her small face light up.

It was refreshing to see someone appreciate the beauty of the place with no hidden intentions.

He had seen the insatiable greed in the eyes of the many women who had tried to get close to him, one too many times.

Derek tore his gaze away from her and followed her line of sight. She was staring at the tennis court.

“You play tennis?”

“Sometimes. Ever played before?”

“I used to,” she muttered, her expression shifting.

Derek didn’t miss the forlorn tone in her voice, and he ached for her. For the second time in less than two hours, he had caught that dejected look on her face.

Though he knew the rational thing was to keep things professional between them, his irrational heart had a mind of its own.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, take away her sadness and assure her that everything would be okay.

He almost did, but then he remembered that no matter how much he was attracted to her, she was someone else’s wife.

So his hands remained at his sides. He could only look on.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the sight of the tennis court reminded her of her husband.

They must have been so in love, he thought.

Unaware of the thoughts running through the mind of the man beside her, memories of her father flooded her mind.

She had last held a racket the day before her father’s death.

They had always been each other’s hitting partner ever since the day she had picked up a racket at just two years old.

Every Thursday and Sunday evening, the sight of the father-and-daughter duo playing against each other at the local sports club was nothing new to the other club members.

Except that that Thursday evening had been their last time together. He died less than fifteen hours later.

As the feeling of desolation crept over her, threatening to overwhelm her, she withdrew her gaze from the beautiful tennis courts nestled among the rolling acres of greenery.

She turned away, offered him a tight smile, and headed down the bridge.

Derek followed and fell into step beside her.

“So everything is set. You and your husband can move in whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, okay,” she nodded and didn’t bother to explain further.

What was the point?

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