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54

작가: Jean
last update 게시일: 2026-07-19 06:42:12

I woke slowly the next morning, sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains of our honeymoon suite. My body felt different—deliciously sore in places I had never noticed before, a warm ache between my thighs that brought everything rushing back. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, his chest pressed to my back, our legs tangled beneath the silk sheets. I could feel his steady breathing against my neck, the soft rise and fall that told me he was still deep in sleep.

Five years of waitin
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  • Contracted to him   56

    I stood frozen at the door, fingers still wrapped around the cold knob. My legs refused to take another step. The hallway beyond looked endless and dark, a tunnel that would lead me straight back into the nightmare I had just escaped. My heart hammered painfully in my chest, and fresh tears burned behind my eyes.Theodore sat up slowly behind me. I could feel the shift in the bed, the quiet creak of the mattress.“What’s wrong?” he asked again, his voice low and cautious.I couldn’t answer. The words were trapped somewhere deep inside the raw ache in my throat. I just stood there, trembling, staring at the door like it was a monster waiting to devour me.He sighed — a heavy, exhausted sound that carried the weight of our entire complicated mess. The bed shifted again as he stood up. His footsteps were soft but deliberate as he walked over to me. When he gently turned me around to face him, the faint moonlight from the window caught the tears streaming silently down my face.Panic flas

  • Contracted to him   55

    I stood frozen at the door, fingers gripping the cold metal knob so tightly they ached. My legs wouldn’t move. The nightmare still clung to every corner of my mind — the laughter, the rejection, Lucas’s weight pinning me down while the world watched and did nothing. The darkness of the hallway beyond the door felt like it would swallow me whole if I stepped through it.Theodore sat up slowly in bed behind me. I could feel his eyes on my back.“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low and rough from sleep.I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The words were lodged somewhere deep in my sore throat, trapped behind the wall of fear and exhaustion. I just stood there, trembling, staring at the door like it was an enemy.He sighed — a heavy, tired sound that carried the weight of everything between us. The mattress creaked as he got out of bed. His bare feet padded softly across the floor until he was standing right behind me. His presence was overwhelming, warm and solid, but I still flinched slight

  • Contracted to him   54

    I woke slowly the next morning, sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains of our honeymoon suite. My body felt different—deliciously sore in places I had never noticed before, a warm ache between my thighs that brought everything rushing back. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, his chest pressed to my back, our legs tangled beneath the silk sheets. I could feel his steady breathing against my neck, the soft rise and fall that told me he was still deep in sleep. Five years of waiting, and last night had been everything I had dreamed and more. The memory of him moving inside me, the way he had looked at me like I was the only thing in his world, sent a fresh flutter through my stomach. I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him yet, and felt the sticky evidence of our lovemaking on my inner thighs. It should have embarrassed me, but instead it filled me with a deep, possessive satisfaction. I was his wife now, in every sense. I turned in his arms, studying his face in the

  • Contracted to him   53

    The first thing I noticed when I walked into the foundation Monday morning wasn't the whispers. It was the silence. The kind that only existed when people had been talking seconds before you walked into the room. Conversations stopped. Heads turned. Someone quickly looked away. Another pretended to suddenly become fascinated by the coffee machine. I sighed. Again? I honestly thought we'd moved past this. Apparently not. I walked toward my office, pretending not to notice. People whispered anyway. "...That's her..." "...Poor thing..." "...Did you see the article?" "...I heard the ex-wife is beautiful." "...Do you think he'll go back to her?" I kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Because if there was one thing I'd learned these past few months, it was that giving gossip attention only made it louder. By the time I reached my office, my phone had already buzzed seven times. Three messages from friends. Two from unknown numbers. One

  • Contracted to him   52

    I had learned something about peace. It never lasted. The week after Evangeline and I had finally begun acting like... whatever it was we were becoming... things settled into a comfortable rhythm. Too comfortable. She worked. I worked. We came home. We cooked together more often than either of us admitted we enjoyed. Sometimes we'd eat on the balcony overlooking the city. Sometimes we'd argue over whose turn it was to choose a movie. Sometimes she'd steal my hoodies. Sometimes I'd find her asleep on the couch with paperwork spread across her lap. Ordinary. It felt dangerously ordinary. And I should have known life wasn't going to allow that. Monday morning started like every other. I was halfway through a board meeting when Ethan quietly entered the conference room. He never interrupted meetings. Ever. Immediately, every instinct I possessed sharpened. He walked to my side and leaned down. "Sir." "What is it?" "It's urgent." I excused myself without another wor

  • Contracted to him   51

    The first time I noticed something was wrong, it wasn't because anyone said anything. It was because silence had a sound. For nearly three months, my life had become embarrassingly predictable. Wake up beside Evangeline. Steal half the blankets. Listen to her complain that I was an "absolute furnace." Pretend I wasn't smiling. Go to work. Fight with Noah over numbers. Get a sarcastic text from Kennedy. Come home. Find Eva reading somewhere she shouldn't be reading because she insisted every chair in the penthouse was "more comfortable than the sofa." Normal. Peaceful. Dangerously peaceful. So when Monday morning arrived and my assistant looked like she'd seen a ghost... I knew. "Sir..." Olivia stood in the doorway holding her tablet so tightly her knuckles had turned white. "There are... reporters downstairs." I didn't even look up from my laptop. "So?" "They aren't here because of the foundation." That made me pause. "They're asking questions about Miss Hale."

  • Contracted to him   14

    I tried to stop myself from shaking as I stared at my reflection in the private bathroom one of the waitresses had lead me to after a heated exchange with my father and former in-laws. The conversation replayed in my head, loud and clear.“You know, I didn’t believe it when I heard it.” My father s

  • Contracted to him   5

    It’d been hours since I run away but the memory of the phantom pressure of Lucas’ fingers against my throat was still etched into my skin. I sat on the edge of the plush bed in Marcus’s house, my hands trembling so violently that the tea in the china cup rattled against the sauc

  • Contracted to him   4

    The click of my stilettos against the polished marble floor sounded like gunfire in the silent corridor. I kept my chin high, my spine a rigid line of defiance, and my gaze fixed forward. I didn’t look at the employees who paused their conversations to stare, nor did I acknowledge the whispers that

  • Contracted to him   3

    The TV was on, low volume, just noise filling the room. I wasn’t really watching or listening, I just lay on the couch of the studio apartment I had been secretly paying for behind everyone’s back, it was the only thing I had to my name, and I’d felt so guilty each time I removed a small portion of

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