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Chapter 10: The Family
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2026-08-18 02:19:55
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Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 17: The Parking Lot Rules
He wasn’t driving.Oliver sat in the driver’s seat of the Maybach, both hands locked on the wheel at ten and two like he was deliberately keeping them away from me. The AC was blasting and the car still felt too warm, the kind of sticky heat that clung to the back of your neck even when the vents were screaming cold air. Leather seats, soft and expensive, suddenly felt too close. Everything about the car felt too close.My hand was still buzzing where he’d held it earlier. The blue bead bracelet had left a faint dent in my skin, a little curved mark that throbbed like a second pulse. I kept rubbing my thumb over it without thinking.“You should start the car,” I said.“You should stop looking at me like that,” he said, still not looking.“Like what?”“Like you won.”“I did win. She left the table first.”He finally turned. His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second, then snapped back up like he’d been caught. “Nadia. Rule number four.”“Rule four is no fighting in private. We’re n
Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 16: The Sunday Table
Rule #9 was working a little too well.Oliver’s hand stayed on the small of my back as we walked into his mother’s house. Light enough to look like it was just for show. Except his thumb kept making slow circles through my dress, and that definitely wasn’t in the contract.Serena was already sitting there. In my chair.White silk dress. Legs crossed. The exact lipstick shade Mrs. Chen always loved.“Oliver, you’re late,” Mrs. Chen said. “Serena was just telling me about the foundation gala. She remembered you take your coffee black, no sugar. Some people actually pay attention to the details.”I felt Oliver go rigid beside me.“Serena,” I said, smiling, “you’re in my seat.”She didn’t budge. Just looked me up and down—my plain blue dress, flat shoes, the red-thread bracelet Amara made me.“Oh, is there assigned seating now? I thought we were past primary school,” she laughed, glancing at Mrs. Chen for backup. “Oliver never liked clingy, Nadia. Didn’t he put that in your… contract?”Th
Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 15: The Bad Tea
The tea was still awful.Mine was basically warm water that had only vaguely heard of a tea bag. His was the complete opposite—bitter and way too strong, the way he always made it when he was on edge.We were sitting on the kitchen floor with our backs against the cabinets, knees almost touching. The tiles were freezing. He didn’t complain about it anymore.“For a billionaire CEO, you’re really bad at making tea,” I said.“For a literacy coordinator, you’re really bad at pretending you don’t like my terrible tea,” he shot back.I took another sip just to prove him wrong. It was still terrible. I liked it anyway.He kept glancing at my bracelet—the little one Amara made me. Red thread, one blue bead.“Amara asked me today if you were my real husband,” I said.He nearly choked on his tea. “What did you tell her?”“I said Rule #9.”Rule #9: In public, we’re madly in love. In private, we’re just contractual obligations.“And what does Rule #9 say exactly?” he asked.“That my husband is ve
Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 14:The Blue Suitcase
I couldn’t sleep.Every time I shut my eyes I saw his hand under the running water, and heard the way he said “sixty-six days” like the number itself hurt.At 12:47 I got up for water. The light in his office was still on.Oliver had fallen asleep at his desk. Reading glasses—ones I’d never seen before—were sliding down his nose. The contract lay open in front of him. My name appeared throughout the draft: Mrs. Nadia Okoye will continue to support the Westside Literacy Project.“Oliver,” I whispered.He jolted awake. “You came back—I mean, you’re up.”“You were waiting?”He yanked the glasses off, looking embarrassed. “You were quiet after the kitchen.”I had stayed quiet because I was trying not to fall for my contract husband at 6:47 p.m. over a kettle.He noticed me looking at the papers.“It’s stupid,” he said, and closed the folder. “We wrote it like you were a tenant. Party B will vacate with her personal belongings. You’re not—that isn’t you.”“Which rule did you break?”He bli
Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 13: Literacy Project
The Westside School wasn’t fancy. No marble floors, no soft carpets. Just peeling blue paint, rattling fans, and thirty kids in uniforms that hung off them like they were still growing into them.Mrs. Vance Okoye didn’t care. She walked into the room like it belonged to her — which, in a way, it did. Her foundation had paid for the roof.“Children, this is Mrs. Nadia Okoye,” she announced. “She used to be a teacher before she became my daughter-in-law. So she’ll be a better judge of your reading than I am.”Mrs. Nadia Okoye.The name hit me hard. No one had ever called me that. Not Ms. Carter. Not Nadia. Mrs. Okoye.A little girl in the front row shot her hand up. “Are you the one from the internet?”Mrs. Vance smiled. “You’re not supposed to be on the internet, Amara.”Amara just giggled. “My brother showed me. He said you’re pretty.”I crouched down to her level. The bracelet on my wrist — sabr — caught the light. “I’m pretty nervous right now,” I whispered. “Can you help me?”She n
Married To My Cold Billionaire CEO For hundred days Chapter 12 : The Board Breakfast
The board breakfast wasn’t really breakfast at all.It was a courtroom that happened to serve croissants.Eight men, two women—all past sixty, all wearing suits that cost more than my mother’s hospital bills for an entire year. And at the far end of the long glass table sat Serena.She was already there when we walked in. White blazer, red lipstick, hair perfectly curled like she’d been up since five planning every detail of this moment. She smiled when she saw me. Then her eyes dropped to my wrist—to the bracelet—and the smile froze.Oliver’s hand brushed the small of my back for just a second. “You good?”I nodded. Sabr. Patience.Mrs. Vance Okoye wasn’t there yet. That was deliberate, I realized. She wanted me to walk in alone and take my seat without her.“Good morning,” Oliver said in that flat CEO voice of his. “Everyone knows Nadia.”“Of course,” said Mr. Henderson, the oldest one. He didn’t bother standing. “The contract bride. We read the statement.”The words hit like a slap
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