Page 4 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

T he walls of The Black Ledger are made to impress.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, marble floors polished to a sheen, and furniture so sleek it feels like no one actually uses it.

But underneath all that gloss and control, there’s an edge to this place—like you can hear secrets breathing in the walls if you’re quiet long enough.

Today it feels sharper than ever.

Killian strides in beside me, every step radiating iron-willed determination. I’ve argued, cajoled, even threatened, but nothing would dissuade him from this. He demanded we tell Lucian about the stalker. Demanded, as if I’m on his payroll.

Lucian Vale sits at the head of the long obsidian table, immaculate as always—dark suit, steel-gray eyes, the kind of authority that doesn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

He owns The Black Ledger and every Companion in its employ. I’ve seen firsthand exactly what these two men are capable of, and somehow the button-down dress shirts suddenly add to the menace they exude rather than mask it.

Sienna is already perched in one of the side chairs, legs crossed, sipping her espresso like this is brunch and not a potential inquisition. Her eyes flick from me to Killian, one brow arching. “This should be entertaining.”

Lucian rolls his eyes at his girlfriend’s intuition. His steely look shifts to Killian, sharp and unyielding. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait until the morning briefing?”

Killian leans forward, elbows braced on the table, the knife he carries everywhere twirling between his thick fingers. “It’s about?—”

“It’s nothing,” I cut in quickly, waving a hand before he can build momentum. “Really, Lucian, he’s being dramatic. The stalker hasn’t been a problem for weeks.”

Sienna chokes mid-sip. “Seraphina.” My name cracks across the room like a whip. “You’re telling me you’ve got a stalker and said nothing?”

Heat creeps up my neck. “Not a new one,” I mutter, wincing. “The same one.”

Killian grumbles under his breath, low but audible. “At least she’s kept it from everyone and not just me.”

My glare snaps to him, but Lucian’s voice cuts the air clean. “Details.” His tone is final, heavy. “Now—and leave nothing out.”

The room stills. Even Sienna goes quiet, watching me from the corner of her eye.

So I tell them. About the flowers, the notes.

The feeling of being watched. How it all quieted—until the opera gala.

How I’d brushed it off before, called him harmless, just a fanatic who liked the fantasy too much.

But when I saw him in that crowd—the smile, the way his gaze pinned me like a specimen, the way my body knew before my mind did…

Lucian leans forward, his jaw taut. “You felt like he wanted to hurt you.”

The words scrape across my skin. I swallow hard, then nod.

Killian’s knuckles crack, the sound sharp and violent in the silence. Fury coils in him like a storm barely chained.

He doesn’t ask permission, doesn’t soften his voice. “Who do you have who can help me hunt this bastard down?”

Sienna sets her cup aside, resting her chin on her hand. “Oh, you know exactly who would love to get his nosy little hands on this.”

Lucian’s mouth twitches, almost a smile. “Do me a favor. Next time you see Jaxon, tell him you called him ‘little.’ Please make sure I’m there to watch the meltdown.”

Sienna snorts. “Noted.”

“Jaxon Kane,” Lucian says, turning back to Killian. “He’ll have eyes where we don’t. Get anything and everything you can to him. I’ll let him know what’s happening.”

Killian nods once, sharp and decisive. “Good.”

Lucian holds his gaze a moment longer, the air between them a heavy agreement. Then, quietly, “And when we find him—he’s all yours.”

Killian doesn’t blink. He just slides his blade back into the holder strapped around his thigh. “Wasn’t even going to ask.”

The dangerous promise lingers in the room long after the conversation moves on.

Killian leans back, satisfied; Sienna swishes her espresso like she’s watching a thriller; and for a moment I think that’s it. That we’re done.

But we’re not.

Because if I let them end it here, I’ll never get the words out.

I clear my throat, shifting in my chair. “Actually … there’s something else.”

Three pairs of eyes land on me.

I force myself to sit taller. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. The Ledger has been my home for years. My family. But …” I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I think it’s time to move on.”

Lucian doesn’t flinch, though I catch the faint crease of thought at the corner of his brow. He has always respected when Companions are ready to transition—whether it’s to their own businesses, quiet retirements, or entirely new lives. His rule is unshakable: once Ledger, always Ledger.

“I thought this would be coming soon.” His voice is calm, steady. “What do you have in mind?”

“This,” I say softly, “is where you may be able to help me. With one last thing. My final contract.”

Silence presses in. Sienna straightens slightly in her chair. Killian looks at me like he’s trying to predict what I’ll say next.

Lucian’s hard gaze doesn’t waver. He studies me, the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“A marriage,” I say.

Sienna blinks, then narrows her eyes like she’s already racing through a million logistical thoughts. Killian’s brows draw low, thunderclouds already forming.

But Lucian—Lucian just watches me. I can almost feel him weighing the words, turning the shape of them over in his mind.

The Ledger has always provided Companions to the world’s elite—temporary arrangements, carefully brokered deals where intimacy and power are transacted in equal measure.

But what I’m proposing is something entirely different. Not a contract measured in weeks or months. Not companionship for a season.

A partnership. A marriage.

My final contract.

Killian’s voice cuts first, rough as gravel. “Do you really think that’s safe with everything going on? A stalker still on the prowl?”

I meet his storm-colored eyes. “Companions take a risk with every contract. I know that better than most.”

The air shifts, the weight of memory pressing between us.

After my abduction, Lucian tore down his old policies and rebuilt the systems, the security, the tech. Jaxon had come in like some boy-genius billionaire from another world, inventing trackers for every Companion—devices that could measure heart rate, speed, even altitude.

Tiny. Unassuming. But powerful enough to ensure no Companion could ever vanish again.

I rub my thumb over the polished nail hiding my own tracker, mindlessly tracing the glossy curve. I’ve worn one since the night I came back. Quiet protection. A secret anchor if my phantom ever did decide to reach for me again.

But this isn’t about him.

“This is my life,” I say, steady now. “And I want more out of it. A family. Children.”

“This,” Sienna starts, nodding slowly, “is going to be epic. Hell yes. Let’s do it.”

A laugh slips out of me, but it rings a little empty. Especially with Killian sitting close, fury radiating from his silence. I hadn’t mentioned this to him. Hadn’t wanted to look him in the eye when I said it. I’m not even sure why.

Lucian’s gaze pins me. “How do you envision this working?”

I lift my chin. “Put out a query. Build a catalog of suitors. There have to be billionaires out there looking to buy a bride—someone to give them an heir. A strong prenup, of course.”

Lucian studies me for a long beat. “This wouldn’t be a love match.”

My mind flickers to Stasia and Daniel—their love is real, rare, once in a lifetime.

But that kind of bond doesn’t grow on trees.

I’ve seen the other side of it too many times.

I’ve been the secret escape for married men who slip away from their wives, who hand me diamonds or first-class tickets in exchange for pretending they’re still capable of feeling something true.

I know how men work. I know what love looks like when it rots.

And that’s not what this would be. An agreement. Nothing more.

“Love,” I reply quickly, firmly, “is not in the cards for some of us. I know that.”

Something flickers in Lucian’s expression—the smallest softening, at least as much as a man like him allows. “You never know. Love may surprise you.”

His hand travels to Sienna’s thigh under the table, and she smiles at him—the one woman who managed to pierce his armor.

“Don’t lock that door before it’s even opened,” she adds quietly.

Across the table, Killian hasn’t spoken for several minutes. His leg bounces in steady rhythm under the table, his gaze fixed on one point in the polished obsidian like he could burn a hole straight through it.

Killian finally breaks his silence, his voice all business. “I’ll need a few extra guards to rotate shifts if she’s going to be dating. Until this stalker is found.”

Lucian nods in agreement.

Of course. Straight to logistics, straight to planning ahead. That’s Killian. Always practical, always a step ahead. It shouldn’t sting. But it does.

Not as much as his next sentence.

“And when she’s not my assignment anymore, we’ll talk about plans for tightening security at events. Galas. Operas. No Companion should be vulnerable like that again.”

The words slice sharper than they should. When she’s not my assignment anymore.

Sienna’s gaze flicks to Killian, then slides deliberately to me. I cut my eyes away quickly before she thinks she’s caught something that isn’t there—before she guesses that comment landed like a bruise. That I hadn’t let myself think about a future without Killian shadowing me.

Lucian nods once, decisive. “Good.”

Killian rises to his full height, tugging his jacket straight. “I’ll get Jaxon started.”

“And I’ll get Eve started on pulling your prospects, Sera.”

The door shuts behind him with a finality that makes me flinch, though I try not to let it show.