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Chapter Sixty-three
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2025-07-29 17:10:36
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Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and seventeen
Darren’s POVThe sun was still climbing the sky when I wheeled myself into the garden, the early light dappled through the canopy of flowering trees. The air was warm, touched with the faintest scent of vanilla and honeysuckle. Beneath the shade, soft instrumental music flowed from hidden speakers, and string lights glittered faintly above us like stars suspended in daylight.This—this quiet sanctuary—was the world we had fought to build.Alex had arrived early with the cake and a small box of favors Isadora had insisted on packing herself. Emma was already hovering near the bassinet, cooing over Elias as if she’d waited her whole life to meet him. Logan stood in a tailored navy blazer beside the lemonade table, exchanging quiet pleasantries with Marcus.But all I could focus on was her.Isadora stood across the lawn, her body turned slightly toward the sun, her cream-colored dress flowing gently with the breeze. She had Elias wrapped securely against her chest in a soft blue sling, h
Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and sixteen
Isadora’s POV The house was still bathed in morning hush when I sat down with a notepad and pen, Elias asleep in his bassinet beside me. The quiet rhythm of his breathing was steady and soothing, like the background melody to the life I was finally building with Darren.Today, I wasn’t a woman grieving her past. I wasn’t a contract bride or a daughter of disappointment. I was simply a mother, planning something beautiful.The naming ceremony.I stared at the top of the blank page and then wrote the date: August 14th. It felt right. It gave us two weeks. Enough time to prepare something intimate and meaningful, but not so far away that the moment would slip from our fingers.“August fourteenth,” I whispered aloud, as if speaking it made it real.I added two words under the date: Garden gathering. We didn’t need a hall or a grand hotel ballroom. Just the backyard, a canopy, and people we loved.Darren came in a moment later, fresh from his morning routine, his hair still damp and pushe
Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and fifteen
Isadora’s povThe knock came late. Darren was in the nursery, rocking Elias after a fussy stretch, and I was arranging flowers on the dining table when I heard it—three steady raps, not urgent but not casual either.I wiped my hands on a towel and moved toward the front door, a familiar unease curling in my chest. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Logan had already visited earlier that week, and Alex would never show up without texting.I opened the door—and froze.There he was.My father.Not the cold, austere figure I remembered towering over boardroom tables or slamming doors during his rages. He looked… older. Smaller. Like a man who had come carrying more than one apology.“Hi, Isadora.”His voice was rough. Not cruel. Just tired.I didn’t say anything at first. My hands clenched the edge of the door.“I know I’m the last person you want to see,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I heard about the baby. And I—I just wanted to come say congratulations.”I studied him. His suit was wrink
Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and fourteen
Isadora POVI stood barefoot in the kitchen, spooning sugar into my tea, when it hit me—I had a son.Not just in the abstract sense of new motherhood, not in the endless rhythm of diaper changes and sleepless nights. But in the real, grounding, miraculous way that mattered: Elias Barlowe existed. He was ours. And now, we were about to name him before the world.I turned, watching through the wide archway into the living room where Darren was sitting with Elias on his lap. Our baby was cooing, captivated by the deep, steady tone of his father’s voice as Darren read from a children’s book in his usual methodical cadence.Even now, even here in this quiet domesticity, I could feel the tectonic shift that had occurred in our lives. The storms were behind us. The courtrooms were silent. The accusations had fallen away. What remained was this house, this man, this child—and a future that no longer felt so fragile.“Hey,” I called gently. “You two okay over there?”“We’re having a deep debat
Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and thirteen
Darren POVI used to think strength meant control.Control over my business, my image, my body. Over outcomes. Over people. I believed if I planned carefully enough—if I anticipated every angle—I could hold the chaos of life at bay. I could master it. But nothing teaches you the illusion of control faster than holding a newborn in your arms.Especially when that newborn is yours.I sat in the rocking chair by the nursery window, Elias bundled against my chest. His tiny hand rested near my collarbone, his head tucked under my chin. He’d fallen asleep an hour ago, but I hadn’t moved. Couldn’t.I didn’t want to miss this. Not one second.Outside, the sun filtered through pale clouds, casting a soft haze over the hills. The scent of lavender drifted in from the diffuser by the crib. Everything was quiet except for the slow rhythm of his breathing, the occasional flutter of movement in his dreams.I stared at him, tracing every feature. The slope of his nose. The curve of his cheek. The fu
Contract Marriage with the Disabled Billionaire Chapter Hundred and twelve
Isadora povThere was something sacred about the quiet.Not the kind that comes from fear or emptiness, but the kind born from fullness—like the house itself was finally breathing easy again. The chaos was behind us. No more courthouse drama, no more Richard. Just peace. Real peace.I sat on the front porch with Elias nestled in my arms, wrapped in a soft blue blanket Celia had delivered from her boutique. The early morning sun crept gently across the horizon, casting golden light on the dew-touched lawn. A mug of tea steamed on the table beside me, untouched.Elias’s tiny fingers curled against my collarbone. His breath was even, warm against my skin. He had Darren’s nose. And something in his furrowed brow when he dreamed reminded me of his father, too—so serious, even in sleep.“Good morning, little man,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head. “You’re safe. You’re loved. And I hope you never have to know what it took to get here.”The door creaked behind me.Darren.I didn’t tur
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