Legally Not Yours
Description
Leah Rosewood's dream scholarship at a top law firm should be her golden ticket-until she meets Jared Connors, the firm's arrogant heir in a thousand-dollar suit. Their first meeting ends with a crude sex contract offer, a drink to his face, and a vow to avoid each other forever. But fate-and office politics-trap them together on the same elite project, where forced proximity, simmering tension, and one humiliating power play after another push them both to the edge. She's smart, poor, and determined to rise on merit. He's rich, ruthless, and desperate to win his father's approval. What starts as a war of egos and sexual games turns into something neither of them can control.
Chapter 1
May 22, 2025
POV: Leah
Someone said this party was supposed to be a casual welcome event.
Yeah, right.
The student center at Lions Fade Law School was glowing with expensive light and louder-than-necessary laughter. Everything here felt too polished, too perfect.
Even the way people stood in groups—like they already knew who belonged and who didn’t.
I shifted on my heels and tried not to fidget. This was my first real night on campus. First time standing in a room full of people with names that opened doors, while I had to kick mine down just to get here.
Life has been tough ever since my mom left me to be with someone who lives on the other side of the country. Apparently the guy hated kids, so she decided to leave me at childcare and never picked me up again.
Nice choice, huh?
I clutched my wine glass tighter. It’s not easy to stand on my own feet so this scholarship means a lot to me.
Connors Legal Associates Foundation made this all possible. One of three full-rides they offered this year. I worked so hard and my hard work didn’t betray me at all.
I wasn’t going to let a little imposter syndrome ruin it.
But I definitely needed air to breathe a little right now. Still can’t believe that I’m attending Lions Fade Law School now, it feels surreal to be around other elite students.
I turned to squeeze past a tightly packed group—and collided straight into a wall of muscle and expensive cologne.
My wine slipped from my glass before I could stop it—red, bold, and damning. It splashed across his shirt in a dark, blooming stain.
I froze mortified, already fumbling for an apology.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “I am so, so sorry!”
I looked at his shirt in horror and he looked down slowly, brushing off the splash like it personally offended him. Then he looked up to me.
And… oh wow.
There he was—tall, composed, and carved like trouble. His jaw was sharp, lips poised in a smirk that flickered too easily, like he was entertained.
Guy peeled off his ruined jacket with slow, deliberate ease, holding it up between two fingers as though the fabric might bite him. Or maybe I had.
His cool and unreadable eyes found mine again. Then they drifted lower, lingering and measuring my body. I felt the heat rise in my chest before it slid down, curling low in my belly.
I tried to hand him napkins. “Really sorry about that, I didn’t saw you—”
“Clearly.” His voice was smooth but cold. “Tell me, is ruining designer clothes your way of introducing yourself? Is this your way of trying to get my attention?”
My brow twitched. “It was an accident.”
“Mhm,” he murmured. “You, broke people, always say that.”
That one hit low. I stepped back slightly and scoffed in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
He tilted his head, inspecting me like I was some science experiment gone wrong. “Let me guess: a new scholarship student?”
The way he said it like it was a diagnosis made my skin crawl.
“What’s wrong with that? I earned my spot here,” I said, squaring my shoulders.
He chuckled a low, rich sound laced with mockery as he folded the wine-stained jacket over his arm like it offended him.
“Of course you did,” he said. “They always need one or two of you. Makes the brochures look balanced.”
“One of me?” I raised a brow. “Oh, you mean someone who didn’t need Daddy’s wallet to pass basic arithmetic?”
His smile twitched, not quite so smug now.
“So you’ve got a backbone.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Cute. But it won’t get you far when the real world chews on entitlement, not effort.”
I tilted my head, letting my gaze drag down the stain on his shirt.
“And yet here you are drenched in Shiraz, talking down to someone who actually had to earn something. Must be exhausting, all that privilege and still no grace.”
His smirk faltered, just for a beat, but I didn’t wait for him to recover.
I looked him dead in the eyes and continued, “You know, for someone so obsessed with being above everyone else, you sure seem desperate to prove it.”
That wiped the grin right off his face. “What did you just say?”
“I said,” I repeated louder, “you act like money gives you worth. It doesn’t. It just hides the fact that deep down, you’re nothing special.”
His jaw clenched. A few people nearby looked shocked, someone laughed nervously.
He stepped closer, trying to close the gap between us, but I made sure that we both had space. I took a step back to get away from him, but he caught my wrist.
“Lots of damage, Miss Scholarship. You will certainly regret it once you get a letter from me suing you for it.”
Still holding me in place, he leaned his head to my ear.
“My bid is going to start at 50.000 dollars for you,” he whispered and I turned to him so fast that his lips were sitting right in front of my eyes.
“Suing for something like that is for pussies just like you.” I don’t know where I got my insults from, but I’m pretty sure I’ll regret it tomorrow.
He lets out a chuckle before whispering in my ear again.
“Careful, that attitude of yours is actually turning me on, Miss Scholarship. Disciplining girls like you really makes my dick hard, you know. But don’t you worry, I’ll make you obey me sooner or later. Or how about you surrender yourself to me now, then… I can consider forgiving you and your sins.”
My hand itched to slap him, but instead I just hissed in his arrogant face, “You’re such a pervert!”
“Become my slave, Miss Scholarship. Then we can negotiate about forgiveness.”
I tried to pull away from him, but he’s holding me still. I lifted my left hand and poured the rest of my wine to his head, causing everyone to gasp in unison.
“You’ll regret that,” he said, voice low and tight.
“I doubt it,” I said, pulling my arm from his grip and turning away.
* * *
When I got back to my dorm room, I instantly went to erase all my make-up and change into my PJs. I was ready to go to sleep so I could wake up early in the morning to start my day.
Crawling into my bed with exhaustion creeping in, I froze in place when someone knocked on my door. I turned to see the time and it’s almost 1AM.
Who the hell is visiting this late?
Curiosity got the best of me so I got up and walked up to the door. My heart is pounding from nervousness, but I found myself opening the door pretty fast.
I saw no one but a brown envelope sitting in front of my door. It has my name on it and I looked around to see no one was standing or walking away. I grabbed it and walked inside.
It didn’t take me long to open the mysterious brown envelope. The first thing I pulled up was a small note:
“Miss Rosewood,
In light of tonight’s damage, I’m offering you a private arrangement to resolve things... creatively. Review the enclosed agreement. Carefully.
–J”
I unfolded the document and instantly froze.
‘Master-Submissive Agreement.’
My pulse jumped. I read through it twice, trying not to believe what I just read. This couldn’t be real. I looked down at the signature. Just a letter: J.
Even without knowing the name, I was already aware of who had sent that.
Am I dreaming? Did this jerk just give a master-submissive agreement because I spilled wine on his fucking shirt?
Legally Not Yours
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