Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Contract	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55312 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Hi! New long chapter for the weekend! I hope you’ll enjoy it! I also hope my disclaimer is correct now… I got a few complains about it. But I don’t own Harry Potter! I promise!!!

Here are some (or, just one this time… ah, well) review-answers!

LadyVoldemort87; Hehe, who wouldn’t be his lady?

To everyone else; I’m glad you are enjoying the story! Thanks for reviewing!

Chapter 5

Before Hermione found out she was a witch, she had been a very unhappy little girl. She had never had any close friends because of her know-it-all attitude, strict parents, unusual hair, and her love of knowledge. She tried to change. When she was five, she found a scissor and cut off all her hair. People didn’t like her any better. When she was six, she tried not to be seen with her parents or tell anyone about them. People still didn’t like her. When she was eight, she tried to be quiet all the time and only speak when spoken too. People still thought she was weird.

So, when she was informed that she was a witch, she finally had an explanation for why she was so weird. She thought things would get better. She had studied hard to know everything about wizards and witches and she was sure they would like her if she fit in. No one had. And then Harry and Ron saved her from the Mountain Troll and they both became her best friends. After that, people started to respect her instead of mocking her. At the age of twelve, she was finally happy.

Unfortunately, that happy time was over now. She was almost twenty and married to the Dark Lord – a man who disliked her just because she was a Muggle-born and friend to his enemy. She was no longer allowed to have her own life. She existed only because Lord Voldemort couldn’t find a way to kill her. Yet.

Hermione was certain he would kill her when the opportunity arose. The only thing standing in his way was the Contract. If he destroyed it, her life wouldn’t be worth a Knut. Hermione knew this, and when she realised an innocent Muggle died because of her, she swore a silent oath not to let it happen again.

Voldemort returned at dusk with a smile on his face and blood on his robes. He looked at her with the most sadistic smile she had ever seen and then he stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. She knew what that look meant. He had killed someone only because she made him angry.

“I despise you,” she hissed when he returned to bed.

“I know,” he chuckled. “And I don’t care. Will you be a good and obeying wife now?”

She clenched her fists. “Yes.”

He snorted. “Why do I not believe you? I will be nice and I advise you to keep me happy from here on.”

“What makes you happy, then?” She tried to stay calm. She would very much like to hit him where it hurts.

He suddenly rolled on top of her and pressed her hands into the mattress. His eyes were almost glowing in the dark. “Use your imagination.”

Hermione could feel her heart speed up.

“Do I frighten you?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “I would be a fool if I wasn’t frightened by you.”

“True,” he said with a smirk. “Yet, you are the only one who is safe from me… physically at least. You know, I have thought about that. Would I be able to harm you if I used a wand?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. He couldn’t… oh, of course he could and would. He flicked his hand and suddenly his wand appeared. She tried to get loose, but he held her down. He put his wand at her neck and started to whisper “Cru…”. Then he hissed and fell down on her.

“I guess not,” he mumbled into her ear. “You’re heart is beating like a drum.”

He was right. She was almost crying out of fright. He nearly cursed her! If he found a way to hurt her she would probably be…

“What are you doing?” she asked when she felt his hands in her hair.

He lifted his head and looked at her. Then he looked at her hair. “I like it.” Then he let go of her and rolled off.

She stared at him, but decided not to start a new conversation. She turned her back at him and after a while, she fell asleep.

xxx

“Wake up!”

Hermione was startled out of her sleep as water was poured over her. “What the hell are you doing?” she screamed.

Voldemort was standing next to the bed with an empty glass in his hand and a smirk on his face. “Waking you up. Come on, we are going to start your training.”

“And you have to pour water over me?” she asked annoyed.

He shrugged. “It worked. Get dressed.” He handed her a training suit. Hermione noticed he was wearing something similar.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to wear Muggle clothing,” she said as she pulled the sweatshirt over her head.

“You aren’t. This is not Muggle clothing. This was made by a witch.”

Hermione wondered if it would be worth it to tell him that the clothes looked exactly like Muggle clothing. She thought better of it as she recalled what he did when he was angry yesterday. She bit her lip. If she made him angry too often, he would probably force her to kill someone.

“We are going to Apparate,” he muttered. She felt the usual sensation of Apparition and when she opened her eyes again, they were standing near a lake in an unfamiliar forest. It looked very peaceful and Hermione couldn’t resist a smile, admiring its beauty

Voldemort broke her peacefulness when he spoke. “The rules are simple. We are not here to converse so try to keep up.”

Hermione cleared her throat. His eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, but what are we going to do?”

“Run,” he said. “I think two miles will be a good start.”

“Two miles? You do remember there is no physical education class at Hogwarts?”

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. “You don’t seem to realise how hard I’m trying to be nice. Just do as I say and this will be so much easier.”

Hermione frowned. “Why are you trying to be nice at me?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we are married.”

She just snorted. He probably didn’t know why he was trying to be nice.

“Try to keep up. And do not attempt to run away. You don’t even know what country we are in.”

She sighed and when he started to run, she followed. Less than half mile later she was too fatigued and had to stop. She sank down on a rock and tried to catch her breath. Voldemort looked at her in annoyance.

“Just… one… moment,” she said and clutched her side.

“Exercise is good. I would rather have done this on my own, but I’m obligated to keep you healthy.”

“Right…” She took a deep breath and stood up again. “Okay, let’s go.”

He shook his head and started to run again. How could he be in such good condition? He must be like… seventy years old! Sure, he only had that body for a year, but… how could he be in such good physical condition?

She resisted the urge to ask the question aloud. Not only because he told her not to speak, but also because she didn’t think she could run and talk at the same time. When he stopped again they where in a small glade. She fell down on the ground and just laid there from exhaustion.

“Why… are… you… doing… this… to… me?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“I want my wife to be in good shape,” he answered. It was unfair, he didn’t sound tired at all. “Not only is appearance important, the stronger your body is, the harder you can train your magical ability.”

“What?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Using magic is tiring. If your body is strong, you will not get tired so quickly. Trust me; you will need all the strength you can get once I start to teach you magic.”

“Why are you going to teach me magic? You won’t even allow me a wand,” she panted.

He sat down on the grass next to her. “You will get your wand back once I know you won’t try to hurt me or my followers.”

“I haven’t even met them yet.” She was finally able to catch her breath.

“You will. But not until I’m sure you’ll behave.” He rose. “Let’s run again.”

“What? Aren’t we done?”

“No one likes a whiner, girl.”

She bit her lower lip and managed to get up again. Cursing him under her breath, she took off after him. He said he was trying to be nice, and perhaps taking her out for a run was nice in his estimation. However, Hermione couldn’t really appreciate it when it felt like her lungs was about to explode!

They were running on a natural path around the lake, but she couldn’t admire the view because she was too busy watching were she was running. There were a lot of roots on the path and she had stumbled four times already. She was breathing heavy through her nose and her mouth. It didn’t feel like could get enough air into her lungs! She tried to focus on her legs. Right, left, right, left, watch out for the root, right, left, right, left… and she ran right into the back of her husband.

Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he crouched down behind some bushes and whispered to her to be quiet. She lay as still as she could as she tried to get her breathing under control. Some moment later, she heard voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she could hear them getting closer. Voldemort put a hand over her mouth. Now she could hear them talking. It was not English. Words like “la robe” “bleu” and “mervilleux” reached her ears. They were speaking French, probably about clothes.

Two young women ran past their hiding place. Voldemort did not let go of her mouth until their voices disappeared into the forest.

“They are just Muggles,” Hermione said as he sat up and leaned against a tree. “Why are we hiding?”

“You would be surprised if you knew how many spies there are in the world. They could have been from the Ministry of France.”

“Merlin, you are paranoid!”

“Says the girl who was sent to kill me!” He got up and out on the path again. “Not that you could have done it.”

Hermione followed him, getting quite angry. “Yes, I was sent to kill you, there is a war going on! I am not the only one who wants you dead!”

“So that is why you aren’t trying to break the Contract, you think you will get an opportunity!” He sounded quite angry as well.

“If there was a way out of the Contract, Dumbledore would have thought of it!” she was screaming now. “I hate being married to you.”

“From where I’m standing, it looks like I got the short end of the stick while you get to benefit from everything I have to offer!” He yelled back.

“LIKE WHAT?” She was so angry she was crying.

“OH, LIKE EXPENSIVE DRESSES, A NEW HAIRSTYLE, ACCESS TO ALL MY BELONGINGS AND SEX!” He was standing right in front of her now. His eyes were burning furiously.

“I DIDN’T ASK NOR DO I CARE FOR ANY OF THAT!”

Voldemort opened his mouth to scream something, but closed it again. He sighed. “I was going to say that I could take it all away, but obviously, I can’t.”

“Because of the Contract?” she asked. Their argument seemed to have reached an anticlimactic ending.

“Of course. Did you think I had grown a conscious?”

She just shook her head. He looked at her strangely.

“What?” she asked.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Nothing… I was just thinking about how I’m going to survive this.”

“You don’t have to survive,” she muttered.

“Comments like that is the reason why I can’t let you leave the room,” he hissed.

Hermione bit her lip.

“Come on. Let’s run again.” He took off and she did her best to keep up. For some reason, she didn’t think he would stop if she got tired again.

xxx

Stupid little bitch.

Voldemort was fuming as he ran through the forest. She ruined his life! Not only had she taken over his room, now she was ruining things that he enjoyed, like running. He had done it as often as he could before that dreadful night at the Potters. Only with this new body had he finally managed to give his body the strength he wanted.

He would never call it an obsession but when one strives to live forever, taking care of your body is of the utmost importance. He was very careful and protective when it came to his new body. He had always been, for as long as he’s had a body worthy of him. He ate healthy and worked out appropriately. He would never dream of drinking alcohol, smoking or taking drugs. He wanted to be in control all the time and he had a phobia against diseases. Not that he would admit it to anyone.

They had been running for approximately another mile when he heard the girl fall behind him. He didn’t care. He could pick her up later. He just wanted to be alone so he kept running.

What should he do with her? He was trying so hard to be civilised, but she made it even harder. He didn’t even know why he was trying! Perhaps he had just always thought married couple should be civilised with each other. He didn’t believe in true love or any of that kind of nonsense. A marriage was more like a partnership. Just look at the Malfoys! Narcissa was a great advantage for Lucius. She always knew everything about everyone and she knew exactly what her husband would need to know. Lucius trusted his wife completely and gave her everything she wanted. It was the same in a lot of other marriages. Giving and taking.

Voldemort had hoped he could use his wife like that. He thought that if he was just civilised, she would help him with the research that he didn’t have time for. It was obvious that she knew how to use a book properly.

He sighed and stopped on the path. His anger dissipated. Running was very good for clearing his mind. He turned around and ran back to the girl. He knew he would never be able to trust her (not that he trusted anyone). However, he was a fool if he threw away a resource like her. Only the photo he sent to Potter had been worth it. In some way, he would manage to live with her until she died.

When he found the girl again, she was sitting by the lake with her feet in the water. Her shoes were next to her. When she heard him, she turned toward him. Relief washed over her face.

“I thought you had left me!” she screamed.

He sat down next to her. “You know I can’t do that… I have to keep you safe and protected.” The displeasure was clear in his voice. “Why are you sitting here?”

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she said. “The cold helps against the swelling. And it relieves the pain.”

“Did you twist both your ankles?”

“No… I only chafed the other…” she smiled foolishly. “I’m sorry I made you angry.”

He sighed. “No, you’re not. But I appreciate your attempt to mollify me. Even if it is a bit late, I’ve already calmed down.”

She sighed too. “You are just making me so angry. Why do I have to make all the sacrifices?”

“Because you are married to me,” he simply said. “You know I can kill everyone you care about if you displease me.”

“Right… Perhaps we should just try not to talk?”

“I’ve already said I don’t welcome conversations with you. But it seems like you have too many questions inside that pretty little head of yours to shut up.”

She blushed. “Then I will just try to keep to the subject when we talk.”

“Excellent.” He helped her up and Apparated them back to his room. He healed her ankle and then bandaged it. She would be fine in a couple of hours, so he told her to keep the foot high until then.

He left her with some new books after they ate a small brunch. He was going to have a meeting with his Death Eaters about the Finland affair.

He went through the cold, undecorated halls toward the meeting room. Before becoming their home, the building had been a factory. It was approximately fifty miles north of York and there were virtually no neighbours. He didn’t know why anyone would want to build a factory in the middle of nowhere.

They refurnished the offices into small bedrooms, his being the largest one, of course. Other areas became meeting rooms and training rooms. No one bothered to put colour on the walls. Voldemort didn’t really care. He liked a little colour and art work, but he was used to living in dreary buildings.

When he opened the door to one of the larger meeting rooms, the stench of burning flesh assaulted his senses. He stepped inside and saw a person on fire. Literally. With the lack of scream, he figured the person was already dead.

“What is this?” he hissed and with a quick wave of his wand, the person turn into a pile of dust. The stench remained.

Everyone in the room froze when they heard him. His minions were wearing their black Death Eater robes, not making the grey room any brighter. The only furniture in the room was a podium. Voldemort went to it and stepped up. He liked to be able to see everyone when he spoke. It made him feel in control.

“Well?” he asked.

Rabastan Lestrange stepped forward. He was a tall dark-haired man with strong arms and legs. The female Death Eaters liked him a lot. Voldemort liked him so long as he did his job. Rabastan had been one of the few survivors from last years meeting with Potter. Since Voldemort didn’t have that many left to punish, Rabastan got it quite bad when Voldemort demonstrated his frustration. Voldemort heard that the females complained that Rabastan didn’t exercise shirtless anymore. Voldemort knew why.

“My Lord,” Rabastan bowed. “There was one Ordermember stationed in Hamina. We managed to get the information we require to deal with the other one. Alecta and Carlow are already there.”

“Good. And the Muggle passports?”

“On their way, my Lord.”

Voldemort nodded and continued to listen to his Death Eaters. Their work in Africa was going smoothly, they found two new basilisks in Brazil (Voldemort liked working with basilisks as they always followed orders) and new followers kept coming from other parts of Europe. Voldemort would have to take a look at them before he left for Finland.

He ordered Lucius to tell the girl that they would be leaving in an hour before he went to another part of the factory where the new recruits waited. He put on a glamour to disguise his identity.

There were around twenty people in the room and he approached a tall woman in the corner. He asked her name and why she was there. It turned out she travelled from the Netherlands because she thought the Dark Lord was cool.

He arched an eyebrow before he looked down at her application paper. “Well, you are enthusiastic. You are a Healer, correct?”

The woman nodded with a bright smile.

“We could use you. Sometimes Death Eaters become injured. Go through that door and tell them who you are. Someone will give you something to do.”

“Wait,” the woman said. “Won’t I meet… the Dark Lord?”

He could see the hope in her eyes. He tilted his head. Many women had come to him through the ages, looking for a bit of power. He almost always rejected them, but… he fingered his wedding-ring and mentally sighed.

“He is married, you know,” he told the woman.

She looked disappointed. “Oh, I hadn’t heard. I’m to go through there you said?”

He nodded and the Dutch woman left. For some reason, his eyes fell down to her backside. He shook his head and tried to focus on his job. Why was he suddenly noticing other women? He never did that! It was probably his wife’s fault. She had awakened something he had kept under control for over nineteen years! Nevertheless, he wouldn’t let her change him. He was stronger than that.

xxx

Hermione stared at the pages of a small diary from 1759. She found it inside a larger book that appeared not to have been opened in years. The diary didn’t speak of one Cup but two! Twin cups! Alone, they could make remarkable things and together… together they could do miracles. The writer of the diary claimed to have seen both of them, one in the Nordic lands and one in Brazil. They were made of stone and the writer wrote that they both were adorned inscriptions of runes.

Runes… Hermione put the dairy aside and reached for another book. Where had she read about runes on a cup? She was sure she read it somewhere! She was also sure that the Cup had been able to make food out of thin air, something you couldn’t do with just ordinary magic. She was sure she read it…

She was interrupted when the door opened. She looked up and saw Lucius Malfoy standing there. He bowed with a mocking smiled on his face.

“Missus, what a lovely new haircut,” he said.

“Er… thanks…” Hermione got up from behind the desk. “What are you doing here?”

Malfoy smiled. “The Dark Lord sent me here to inform you that you’ll be leaving in an hour. You are to dress in Muggle clothing.”

Hermione arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.” He bowed again and left.

Hermione stared at the closed door. She better do what Malfoy said. If he lied, she would just tell Voldemort the truth and then Malfoy would be punished. She didn’t care about that. After a quick shower, she put on a simple pair of pants and a t-shirt. It was still quite warm outside. She was combing her wet hair when her husband stormed through the door. She arched an eyebrow when he stopped in the middle of the room.

“Get up,” he hissed.

“Lucius said I would be wearing Muggle clothing,” she said with an uncertain look on her face and did as he commanded.

“I know, I told him. Turn around.”

She did and stopped with her back at him. “What are you… ah!” She jumped when she felt his hand groping her arse.

“What would you say if I brought another woman to my bed?”

She frowned and tried to get away from him but he held a firmer grip of her backside and shoulder.

“Hm… perhaps, where shall I sleep?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

Hermione thought about it. “No, not really… I don’t even like you, why should I be jealous?”

“If you touch another man, I would kill him,” Voldemort said and finally let go of her.

Hermione turned around and looked at him with a puzzled face. “Okay… so if I tell you I made a move on Malfoy…”

“What?”

Hermione couldn’t help but to smirk. She just found a way to kill off some Death Eaters. The only problem was the guilt she would probably feel.

“No, I didn’t. Merlin, its Malfoy! I despise that family more than I hate you.”

“Good.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it irritating to be jealous all the time?”

“I’m not jealous!” he hissed.

“Okay…”

He sneered at her and went to the wardrobe. He pulled out a backpack. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Um… am I allowed to bring anything?”

“I have already packed for you.”

Hermione wondered if she should complain about it, but he was already in a foul mood so she just nodded.

“Good, only the glamour remains.” He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. Hermione felt a tingling over her body as the glamour took hold. When he was done with her, he changed himself. She looked at her now very blond husband with deep blue eyes. He was not as thin as he was before and his face was a bit rounder and nicer.

She looked down at her own body and the first thing she noticed was the hair. She was as blond as him and her breasts were much larger.

“Very funny,” she huffed. “Why can’t I have my normal breast-size?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to guess who you are,” he said with a smirk.

“Men,” she muttered under her breath as he made a gesture for her to follow him out. They didn’t go far. They went through a long dark corridor before he opened another door and led her out to a balcony. Her eyes fell on the brooms.

“Fly? Are we going to fly?” she asked horrified. She wasn’t that scared of heights, she just didn’t trust brooms.

“Yes, but just too Estonia, then we are going to take a boat over to Finland.”

“Why? Why can’t we just Apparate?”

“Because magic can be tracked,” he said with a voice that told her his patience was running low.

She bit her lip as she looked from the broom to the clear sky. It was warm, but the wind blew hard. She had never been a good flier…

Voldemort cursed. “Fine, you can ride in front of me.”

She didn’t know if she should be relieved or not. Could he push her off the broom? Hopefully, he could not.

He didn’t give her a chance to finish her thought because he swept her up in front of him and took off into the blue sky. She screamed in surprise. Voldemort chuckled. Sadist. Hermione tried to calm herself, but she was secretly thankful Voldemort kept one arm around her waist. She placed one hand on the broom and the other on his arm and tried not to look down. She tried to focus on something else. His chest was warm against her back. Why hadn’t she put on more clothes? She was freezing! It wouldn’t surprise her if she caught a cold. That would just make this marriage so much better.

Her thoughts wandered. Was he really disappointed with her body? She knew Ron’s brothers talked about women with “big boobs”, and as she matured, she was upset because she wasn’t growing big breasts like Ginny. Thankfully, she came to terms with it a long time ago. There was a war going on! That was much more important than the size of her breasts.

“How long will this take?” she asked.

“The flying?” he asked in a smug voice. “It depends… would you like to take a trip over the Alps?”

“No!”

“Suit yourself. But it will still take about an hour.”

Hermione groaned and tried to hide underneath her husband. “Could you place a warming spell on me, please?”

He sighed, but did. It looked like politeness did pay off. Suddenly, she couldn’t feel the cold at all. If she could just relax her body as well… Her knees were tightly pressed together and the wood was painful between her legs. Weren’t these things supposed to have Cushioning charms?

Voldemort seemed to notice her tenseness. He moved one hand over her leg. “Relax, and find the balance. Straighten your back.”

She took a deep breath and did what he said. She straightened her back, but it didn’t work.

“You are hopeless,” he said with a sigh and moved his hand back to her waist again.

They flew over the ocean now. Hermione could see land at the horizon. They were moving very fast. Voldemort didn’t say anything. The journey soon got boring and the most interesting thing that happed was when Voldemort shifted and squeezed her waist tighter.

After half an hour, Hermione wasn’t scared at all and she was debating with herself if she should try to start a conversation with him or not.

“A Knut for your thoughts?” she finally asked.

“What did I say about the constant talking?” he asked calmly.

“I’ll not talk unless you want me too,” she repeated. “But if you don’t want to talk to me, you should let me talk with someone else.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m a social person! I like communicating with others!”

He sighed and shifted again. The hand that was on the broom moved closer to her and stopped between her thighs. He was stretching out his back.

“Well, then you should treasure the talks I grant you.”

She huffed. “You are so full of yourself, you know that?”

He chuckled against her ear. “I know.”

Hermione sighed and was quiet for the rest of the journey. She guessed Voldemort had put an invisibility-charm on them, because he went in for a landing at a beach that was full of people And no one noticed them. Voldemort shrank the broom and put it in his backpack.

“We will pretend to be Muggles,” he said as they walked toward the boats which were moored a couple of hundred yards away. “We will be staying in a Muggle hotel in the centre of Hamina. If anyone asks, we are on our honeymoon.” And to mark his words, he gripped her hand and she felt a tingle of magic that told her they were now visible.

“Honeymoon?” she asked surprised. “Why honeymoon?”

“Because we will not be expected to come down for breakfast and people won’t be surprised if we appear to spend all of our time in our room. I don’t wish to socialise with Muggles more than necessary.”

“Okay… So what will I do when you are out doing… what ever it is that you do as Dark Lord?”

They reached the boats and Voldemort paid for their ride over to the Tervasaari harbour. The boat wasn’t big and there weren’t many other travellers. Voldemort found them seats at the back of the boat. He placed his arm around to convey how very much in love they were. It only made Hermione uncomfortable.

“So, what will I do?” she asked again.

“You will be staying at the room I suppose…” He was looking at the other travellers and nodded to himself.

“Oh, how fun,” Hermione muttered. “Do you know these people?”

“Of course. They are all my Death Eaters. Do you really think I would travel with common Muggles? However, they won’t bother us.” He added with a smile. “The captain and his assistants are the only Muggles.”

Hermione sighed and tried to pull away from him, but he kept her still. She mentally groaned. The boat started to move.

It was a good thing that she didn’t get seasick, because the waves were very high this afternoon. She wondered what time it was. Thankfully, Voldemort let her wander off on her own once the boat left the harbour. She got something to eat and used the bathroom.

Voldemort was talking to one of the Death Eaters when she returned. She didn’t hear what they were saying because they were whispering. The Death Eater left just a moment later and Voldemort turned to her. He gave her a passport. She opened it.

“Kira Smith?” She stared at the paper in disbelief. “What am I? A dog?”

He just chuckled.

“And what is your name, Mr Smith?” she asked.

“Seth,” he said.

“Seth Smith.” She looked at him and shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s a name too”

“Yes. Oh, and before I forget…” He pulled out a small box from his backpack. When he opened the box, she saw a small diamond ring inside. “That Ministry ring is so boring…”

He took her left hand and placed the ring on her finger. The new ring absorbed the magic of the Ministry ring and a moment later, the Ministry ring disappeared. She had read that would happen, but she never thought Voldemort would buy her a real ring.

She looked at it closer. “It’s beautiful. Is it white jade?”

He nodded and took out another box. “If you would do me the honour?”

She opened the box and found a similar ring, sans diamonds. He held out his hand and when she placed it on his finger, his ministry ring disappeared as well.

“It must have cost you a fortune,” she said.

“Not really,” he said with a smirk. “I wanted us to have real rings… for appearance sake.”

“Of course…,” she mumbled. For the rest of the journey, she couldn’t help but to glance at the ring and the diamond that was sparkling in the sun.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Contract