The Seven-Year Contract

At sixteen, my world was the size of a cornfield in Pennsylvania. My future was supposed to be a straight line from shucking corn to a quiet, early grave. Then he showed up.

He pulled up in a vintage Porsche, the engine a low growl that scared the crows. A city boy, all sharp angles and restless energy, lighting a cigarette with a hand that trembled with rage. He was on the phone, shouting at his girlfriend.

“Are you serious? You’re really ending it?”

Her voice, tinny and cruel even through the speaker, shot back. “Dead serious. I was only with you to get to your brother, you idiot. Did you really think anyone could ever love you?”

He kicked the gravel, a cloud of dust rising around his expensive loafers. His eyes, wild and hurt, scanned the fields and landed on me. He beckoned with a sharp flick of his wrist. He was making a bet with the universe, and I was his chip.

“Hey. You,” he called out, his voice laced with a bitter, reckless challenge. “I’ll pay for your school. I’ll buy you clothes, a car, a life. You’ll never have to worry about money again. All you have to do is love me. How about it?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

That was seven years ago. A lifetime ago. Now, he was asking me for something else.

“I need you to go after my brother,” he said. “Make him fall for you. It’s the only way Chloe will finally give up and come back to me.”

1

I didn’t say yes right away.

In seven years, I had been completely remade. Leo Fordham had kept his promise. He had molded me, polished me. He paid for my education, hired tutors, funded any class or hobby my heart desired. He was a master sculptor, and I was his clay.

When I graduated last year, he bought me a penthouse apartment and a new Mercedes. I remember learning to drive that summer, the city air thick and hot. He sat in the passenger seat day after day, endlessly patient, never once complaining as I lurched through traffic.

No one calls me a farm girl anymore.

They whisper that I’m the girl the younger Fordham heir keeps tucked away in his pocket. His charity case. His Pygmalion project. His, for all intents and purposes, future wife.

After all, he had spent seven years cultivating a single flower. Now that it was in full, brilliant bloom, who would believe he’d ever let someone else pick it?

But no one had counted on Chloe Astor coming back.

She had left for London shortly after their breakup, cutting ties with everyone. Last month, she returned, armed with a new degree and an old obsession. The first thing she did was confess her love to Alex Fordham, Leo’s older brother.

He turned her down, of course.

Chloe’s infatuation with Alex had always been a ghost in their relationship, a secret no one spoke of. After his rejection, with nowhere else to turn, she called the one person she knew would answer. She called Leo.

“Leo,” she’d sobbed into the phone. “I’m back.”

That one sentence was all it took to unravel him.

She called him again and again, every time Alex’s silence cut her a little deeper. And every time, Leo was the one who went to her, the one who patched her back together. He was caught in a terrible trap—aching for her, furious with her. How could she not see him? He had offered her his entire world, but her eyes were still fixed on his cold, distant brother.

I never thought he’d resort to a scheme this desperate.

From what I knew of Alex Fordham, he was a man carved from ice. He wasn't the type to fall for any woman, let alone one sent by his brother.

But Leo was persistent. He started pleading with me daily. Flowers arrived at my office, followed by Celine boxes and Cartier bags. Money flowed toward me like a river, a desperate, glittering tide.

My colleagues noticed. “He’s definitely trying to propose,” my friend Maya said, admiring a bouquet of roses so large it barely fit on my desk. “The way he looks at you… it’s not just a friendship. He’s rich, he’s crazy about you. Just say yes, Ava. And make sure we’re invited to the wedding.”

I managed a weak smile, saying nothing.

Yes, he was so good to me. It was a debt I could never repay.

My phone buzzed. It was him.

“Get the flowers?” His voice had that familiar, careless charm. “You like them?”

“I did,” I said.

He sighed, a rare note of defeat in his voice. “Look, I’ve been thinking… if you really don’t want to do this, I won’t force you. I’ll figure something else…”

“I’ll do it.”

The line went silent. Then, “What?”

“The plan. With your brother. I’ll do it.”

He was quiet for a long moment before a relieved laugh burst from him. “Okay. Great. Just… give it a shot. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. I’ll still take care of you forever, you know that.” He paused, then added, as if trying to convince himself, “My parents have thrown a hundred girls at Alex over the years, maybe more. He hasn't looked twice at any of them… but you’re different. He’s always been… I don’t know, nicer to you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice,” he finished softly.

I watched the moon hang pale and distant in the city sky. After a long moment, I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay.”

I heard the distinct flick and crackle of a lighter. He was smoking again.

He said my name, his voice muffled by the smoke. “Ava.”

“Yes?”

“I never asked you.”

“Asked me what?”

“Is there anyone you like? Anyone you’re… in love with?”

My gaze fell to the crimson roses on my desk, their petals impossibly perfect. I’d heard he used to fly in flowers for Chloe from halfway across the world, each stem costing more than a month’s rent for a normal person.

My lips felt dry. “No,” I lied. “That’s not important.”

“It is,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “If there’s someone else, I can’t ask you to do this. I won’t ruin your life.”

I pressed my fingers against the cool glass of my office window. “There’s no one.”

2

I lied to Leo.

I was in love with him.

I had been since that first day in the cornfield. But for all these years, his heart has only ever held a space for Chloe.

A few days later, Leo threw a welcome home party for her at an exclusive downtown club. I received an invitation, a thick card with my name in elegant script.

He told me Chloe had insisted on meeting me.

“The girl from the cornfield? You actually brought her back with you, Leo?” she’d apparently said, laughing. “She was so… scrawny. All elbows and dirt. I thought you were joking. I’m dying to see what she looks like now.”

I had a prior engagement and declined. Leo’s texts started flooding in. One after another, until the final one.

[Alex will be there. You haven’t forgotten your promise, have you?]

Reading the words, a familiar weight settled in my chest, heavy and suffocating. His request had been phrased as a choice, but it was never a choice at all. To refuse would be to prove I was ungrateful. A parasite.

I couldn’t let him think that.

When I arrived, they were all crowded around a poker table. The moment I walked in, the easy chatter died. A few people who used to greet me with warm hugs and call me “Miss Sheng” suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. Before, they’d fawned over me for Leo’s sake. Now, it was clear to everyone that the tide had turned. I was no longer the heir apparent to the Fordham fortune.

I approached the table. Chloe was the only one winning, a smug little smile playing on her lips. Leo was a shark at cards, but tonight, I could see him folding good hands, letting her win.

After a few minutes, Chloe finally looked up and saw me. Her eyes widened in performative shock. “Wow,” she breathed, covering her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand. “You look… so different. I remember you being so…” She trailed off with a dismissive little tsk, then pushed her chair back. “Here, you play. I’m tired.”

She stood, immediately pulling out her phone. I was close enough to see the name on the screen: Alex Fordham. It was a one-sided conversation, a long stream of her messages met with absolute silence.

I took her seat. The moment I sat down, Leo’s expression hardened. He picked up his cards with a new, aggressive impatience.

The stakes were high, and no one was going easy on me. Within an hour, I was down over ten thousand dollars.

3

Chloe, who had been watching from the sidelines, spoke up, her voice dripping with faux concern.

“Oh, my God, you guys. Why are you letting her lose so much? Where is she going to get that kind of money? Can she even afford this?”

Nate, Leo’s best friend, threw his cards down on the table. He looked at me, his eyes cool and indifferent. “What’s the big deal? Leo will cover it.”

He wasn’t wrong. That’s how it had always been.

Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Really?”

Leo grunted in affirmation, already pulling his phone out to make the transfer.

But I spoke first. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”

Leo’s head snapped up, his eyes dark. “Ava, don’t be stupid.”

“It’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “I can’t rely on you forever.”

Over the years, with the resources Leo provided, I’d learned how to make my own money. I was a good investor. I had savings. I even had a separate bank account he knew nothing about, where I deposited money every month—a fund I’d started with the intention of one day paying him back.

Pulling out my phone, I transferred the money to each of them. Leo’s winnings were the largest. He stared at the transaction notification on his screen for a long time, his jaw tight. Finally, he hit ‘accept’ with a sharp tap. “Well, look at you, Ava Sheng. All grown up.”

A little while later, I excused myself to go to the restroom. On my way back, I heard their voices from a secluded balcony down the hall. Leo and Chloe. Arguing.

“You said Alex was coming! Where is he?”

“Something came up. What, are you still obsessed? You’ve been chasing him for months, has he even sent you a single text?”

“So what? It’s my choice!” Chloe’s voice sharpened. “And why do you still have her around? That… Ava girl. Why are you still paying for her life?”

I heard Leo shift his weight. “Are you jealous?”

“No! I just can’t stand women like that. Freeloaders. Living off someone else’s money like a leech. God knows how much of your money she’s spent over the years.”

A pause. Then Leo’s voice, low and rough. “It was a bet, remember? I did it to piss you off. If you’d just give up on my brother and come back to me, I’d cut Ava off tomorrow. I’d never speak to her again.”

The dim hallway lights blurred. I stood frozen in the shadows, my heart turning to a block of ice in my chest.

I didn’t wait to hear more.

I turned and walked in the opposite direction, breathing in the stale, conditioned air until the burning in my lungs subsided. When I finally returned to the private room, it was empty.

I walked out of the club and into a torrential downpour.

Nate was just leaving, propping up a drunk girlfriend. He’d been sick in the bathroom. He saw me and blinked. “You’re still here? Oh, right. Leo left to take Chloe home.” He looked out at the sheets of rain. “Damn. This is bad. And this place is in the middle of nowhere. I’m heading in the opposite direction, or I’d give you a lift…”

He hesitated. “I can call Leo, tell him to circle back for you?”

I shook my head. “Don’t bother.”

Nate just sighed, giving me a sympathetic look before bundling his date into his car and speeding off.

I hated myself for not driving. I pulled out my phone, trying to get an Uber, but no cars were available. I checked the map. There was a bus stop about a mile away. It was my only option.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out from under the awning and into the deluge. I hadn’t made it more than a few feet when an umbrella suddenly appeared over my head, shielding me from the rain.

Then, a low, calm voice spoke from behind me. A voice that was exactly as the world described it: cold, steady, and devoid of warmth.

“Ava.”

4

That night, it was Alex Fordham who drove me home.

The rain hammered against the roof of his car, a relentless, deafening rhythm. Halfway there, his phone rang. He answered it, the caller ID glowing with his brother’s name.

The connection was clear. I could hear every word Leo said.

“Hey, man. We all took off. Don’t bother coming to the club if you’re done with your meeting.”

Alex’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t mention that he had already been there, that he had seen the empty room. “You said it was urgent. You ran off before I even got there. What was so important?”

“Ah, it was Chloe. You know how she is. She wanted to see you. I can’t say no to her.”

A flicker of something—annoyance, maybe—crossed Alex’s face. “Is that right? You’ll give her anything she wants? Even sell out your own brother?”

Leo’s laugh was careless, unbothered. “Of course.”

“You know I’ve loved her since we were kids. I’d do anything for her. I’d give up anything for her.”

“Besides,” Leo continued, “it’s your own damn fault for never dating anyone.” He paused, and I heard him curse under his breath. “Shit. I forgot about Ava. I gotta go, man.”

Alex glanced at me for a fraction of a second.

“Right,” he said into the phone, and hung up.

How kind of Leo to remember me eventually.

Alex said nothing. I turned my head, focusing on the distorted city lights blurring past the rain-streaked window. My phone was in my purse. The old me would have snatched it out, desperately checking to see if Leo had called, if he was worried.

But tonight, I felt nothing but a profound exhaustion. I left it in my bag. The screen remained dark, the ringer silent. It occurred to me then that I’d put it on vibrate for a meeting that afternoon and never changed it back.

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

When we finally pulled up to my building, I felt a wave of relief. The rain was still coming down hard. He reached into the back seat and handed me an umbrella.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice quiet.

I reached for it, but when my fingers closed around the handle, he didn’t let go. I looked up, confused.

“Mr. Fordham?”

His gaze was steady, focused on me. It felt like he was seeing straight through the sophisticated shell Leo had built, all the way back to the girl in the cornfield. After a long, unnerving moment, he finally released his grip.

“If you’re hurting,” he said, his voice unexpectedly gentle, “it’s okay to show it.” He paused. “And if you need help with anything, you can come to me.”

He added, “I won’t tell anyone.”

My heartbeat stuttered. I realized then that my hands, hidden in my lap, had been trembling ever since his brother's phone call.

I’d give up anything for her.

Wasn’t that me? Wasn’t I the “anything”?

I clenched my fists, trying to still them. I looked into Alex Fordham’s calm, serious eyes, and a wild, self-destructive impulse bloomed in my chest.

I deliberately changed my tone, my address.

“Alex,” I began, my voice a stranger to my own ears. “What if I said… I wanted to be with you?”

His brow furrowed. He gave me a single, cool glance.

“That,” he said flatly, “is not an option.”

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