We Divorced Now He Wants Me Back (Billionaire Contract Wife)

Alice’s POVThe next morning, I woke to the soft shuffle of footsteps. My eyes fluttered open just in time to see Vicent stepping out toward the balcony, his phone pressed to his ear.My heart missed a beat. He never went out there unless he wanted privacy—unless he wanted to make a call.I pulled my knees to my chest, sitting on the bed silently, my breath caught in my throat. Through the open glass doors, his voice drifted back to me, low and tender, almost a whisper.“Don’t worry, I’ll be there… Make sure you take care of yourself… I won’t be late, I promise.” His tone softened, almost coaxing. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you yesterday.”Each word sliced through me. My chest tightened as though invisible hands were squeezing the life out of me. That wasn’t the way he ever spoke to me.With me, he was cold. Short replies, rude retorts, or sometimes complete silence—walking away and leaving me standing there, looking foolish. But with her, his voice turned into honey. Gentle. Patien

“Alice’s POV”It had been two days. Two long, heavy, suffocating days since that incident at the office… and Vincent hadn’t called me. Not even once.I sat curled up on the small sofa in my living room, watching an old cartoon I loved as a kid. The voices and silly jokes should’ve made me laugh, but all I felt was emptiness.This was the apartment I once shared with my dad. Thank God I hadn’t sold it after marrying Vincent. At least here, I still had a place that felt like mine.My eyes drifted to the drawer. Slowly, I pulled out the big photo album and held it in my lap. My fingers trembled. For a moment, I hesitated. This album carried both happy and painful memories.Still… I opened it.The first picture was of my parents. Dad and Mom, smiling together. They looked happy—at least in that frozen moment.I turned the page and found myself staring at a silly photo of me as a child, tongue stuck out, wearing ridiculous clothes. A chuckle escaped me, but it was soft, choked with unshed

Vincent’s POV“Mr. Markston! Mr. Markston!”The sharp, persistent voice of my secretary sliced through the fog swirling in my head. I blinked, realizing belatedly that he had been calling me for God knows how long. The document in his hand trembled as he held it out, and with a heavy sigh that came from deep in my chest, I snatched it from him.“Leave it there,” I muttered. The papers meant nothing to me anyway.I couldn’t focus. Not on the numbers neatly typed across the reports stacked like mountains on my desk, not on the deals that needed my signature, not even on the endless meetings lined up for today.My mind was elsewhere.Alice.Her pale, disoriented face from this morning refused to leave my head. The way her lips quivered, her voice shaking yet filled with venom when she looked me in the eye.“My only regret was ever signing a marriage contract with you.”The words echoed like poison in my ears.It shouldn’t have bothered me. I had heard worse insults from competitors, har

Alice’s POVAdrian parked the car right in front of my apartment and stepped out quickly to open the door for me.“You still stay here?” he asked, raising a brow as he helped me down.I gave him a questioning look, wondering how he knew.Noticing, he chuckled nervously. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a stalker. I used to drop Morgan here whenever she came to visit you back in college.”“Oh.” I nodded slowly, unlocking the gate.My apartment wasn’t luxurious, but it was warm and cozy, and it had always been enough for me.“Wow. I love your place,” Adrian said honestly as he stepped inside, his eyes roaming the living room.I chuckled in disbelief. “Really? There’s actually nothing to like.”He shook his head. “No. It’s simple, but the designs… the little touches… They're beautiful. Feels like you.”That pulled a small smile from me. “That’s one of the reasons my father loves it too.”At the mention of my dad, Adrian’s expression softened. “How’s he now?”“He’s okay,” I said with

The morning dawned crisp and pale, the kind of winter light that filtered through glass windows without warmth. I had barely slept the night before, tossing and turning, my mind crowded with images I couldn’t shake—Adrian’s quiet smile, Vincent’s cold stare.But I forced myself out of bed before dawn. If I lingered, if I hesitated, I knew doubt would swallow me whole.By the time I stood before the mirror, fastening the buttons of my coat, my hands trembled. I tried to disguise it as fatigue, but I knew the truth: part of me was terrified. JB Company wasn’t just a rival to Vincent’s empire; it was louder, bolder although I knew no company could compare to KNT. To walk into those tall glass doors was to step into a world that had the power to lift me—or destroy me.I told myself I was ready. For my children, for my own freedom, I had to be.The building loomed like a monument of glass and steel, its polished doors glinting beneath the pale sun. As I approached, the reflection stari