Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire

Darren's PovThe smell of expensive whiskey, burning wood, and desperation filled the suite air. Isadora's middle-aged father sat across from me, his hand trembling as he reached for his glass. The man was everything I hated in a person — weak, pathetic, and the kind of man who would sell his own soul for big bucks. But tonight, the commodity wouldn't be his soul. It happened to be his one and only daughter. I drummed my fingers against the polished desk, the sound echoing in the vast suite. The room was dimly lit but that didn't stop the faint golden light from casting long shadows across my scarred face. My reflection was something I didn't like looking at — half man, half beast in expensive clothing. At least that's what the entire New York thinks. Well, their whispered rumours weren't far from the truth.Ugly.Hideous.A monster.And so much worse.But I didn't give a fuck.I had everything I needed. I had everything money could buy — A private island to escape the world, a custo

Isadora's Pov1 WEEK LATER,Darren had a meeting with the major and, for some reason, decided I should tag along. I had no idea what his game was, but I agreed anyway.After getting ready, I stepped out of the en suite — only to freeze at the sight on my bed.A red dress was sprawled across the bed. It looked like something out of a high-fashion magazine, deep crimson fabric shimmering under the soft lighting. Next to it, a small note in Darren's elegant handwriting : “Wear this”I scoffed, picking up the dress with a critical eye. Just what was he playing at? Still, curiosity got the better of me and a few minutes later, I found myself slipping into the silky fabric.As I walked down the grand staircase, I overheard Darren’s voice drifting through the air.He was on a call, his tone calm and businesslike. But the moment our eyes met, he stopped mid-sentence and then his cheeks turned pink.Wait.Darren was blushing?He ended the call abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket lik

Isadora’s POVI didn’t know when I fell asleep.One minute I was wrapped in his arms, whispering the words I never thought I’d say—You’re safe now, Darren—and the next, I was waking up alone.The spot beside me was empty, though the warmth still lingered faintly against the sheets. I ran my fingers over it, tracing the imprint of his body in silence.The room was quiet.Too quiet.Like last night had been a dream, too fragile to survive the morning.A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I pushed the covers away and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My body felt different. Looser. As if some knot had unraveled overnight. Not gone, but slightly undone. My heart wasn’t pounding with dread for once. No wall of anxiety was pressing against my chest.I should have felt relief.But all I felt was… confusion.And something dangerously close to longing.A knock interrupted the stillness.Soft. Measured.Not Darren’s.“Come in,” I called, pulling my robe tighter around me.The door creaked open

Isadora’s povThere were no sudden declarations, no dramatic shifts. But something had changed. The air between us wasn’t sharp anymore. It didn’t crackle with tension. It pulsed with something quieter. Warmer.Not love.Not yet.But the way Darren looked at me in the mornings… the way his fingers brushed mine when we passed each other in the halls… the way I didn’t pull away...It all whispered of something taking root.A beginning.Even if I didn’t want to admit it out loud.“You’re humming,” Alex said, walking into the parlor with two folders in hand.I blinked and immediately stopped. “No, I’m not.”He smirked. “You were. Not sure what’s more shocking — that you’re humming or that Darren hasn’t growled anyone into quitting this week.”“Very funny.”He handed me one of the folders. “These are for you. Event prep.”I furrowed my brows. “What event?”“The mayor’s charity ball.”My stomach dropped.“Oh,” I said quietly.“Yes. Oh.” He gave me a pointed look. “Darren wants you to be the

Darren’s POVI couldn’t sleep.I’d stared at the ceiling for hours, watching the shadows shift across it like ghosts from a past I’d tried to bury. No matter how tightly I shut my eyes, her voice kept drifting back.Love isn’t about perfection. It’s about who shows up when it matters.She didn’t say it to flatter me. Isadora wasn’t the type to toss compliments like confetti.She meant it.That was the problem.Because I was starting to believe it too.And that terrified me.I slipped out of bed before the sun rose. Quietly. Carefully. She didn’t stir. She was still curled beneath the sheets, her breathing soft, one hand resting where I’d been lying minutes earlier.She looked peaceful.Untouched by the chaos I felt under my skin.I walked down the hallway barefoot, not bothering to switch on any lights. I knew the layout of the estate by heart. I could’ve walked it blind.Eventually, I ended up in the west wing — a space I rarely used, where old oil paintings lined the walls and the f