LOGIN“You took your time, Isabella.” His voice was low and controlled, cutting straight through the room. “Do you understand what’s at stake?” My throat tightened. “I’m… sorry.” “Keep it. And sit,” he said, dropping the papers on the desk without a hint of warmth. I obeyed immediately, the chair feeling too big beneath me. “This will be a contract marriage,” he said. “It lasts as long as I decide. No love. No expectations. No children. You only play the role I need.” The words hit harder than his tone ever could. Something in my chest tightened, but I nodded anyway. * Grace’s life collapses the day she discovers she was a twin, separated at birth, and her wealthy biological parents suddenly want her back. Before she can adjust, her adoptive mother, Sarah, is arrested for a crime from twenty-two years ago. That’s when Grace realizes the truth. Her real family isn’t welcoming her. They’re blackmailing her. To save Sarah who raised her, Grace must secretly take her twin sister Isabella’s place and marry Sebastian, the powerful arrogant billionaire heir her family needs to keep their business from crumbling. Forced into a life built on secrets, Grace steps into a marriage meant for another woman, only to discover that every betrayal she has suffered leads back to this man and this family. Now she must protect Sarah, pretend to be Isabella until she wakes up, and survive a contract marriage she never wanted. Will she escape this web of lies — or will the secrets she carries destroy everything she loves?
View MoreGrace’s POV.The elevator doors had closed minutes ago, but the scent of Ryan’s funeral lilies still lingered in the air, pungent and suffocating.Sebastian was still holding me, his heart hammering against my back. The performance was over, but he hadn't let go. If anything, his grip had tightened.Sebastian didn't stop as he carried me into the bedroom. He carried me down the hallway, his jaw set in a line of granite, the muscles in his arms bunched tight. I could feel the thudding of his heart against my ribs—a frantic, heavy rhythm that betrayed just how much restraint he had used in that living room.He kicked the master bedroom door shut behind us and locked it. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home echoed like a gunshot, signaling the end of the performance.He didn't take me to the bed immediately. He stood there in the center of the room, holding me, his breathing rough and uneven."I’m okay," I whispered, reaching up to touch the tense cord of muscle in his neck. My hand tr
Sebastian’s POV.The intercom buzzed at 11:00 AM, slicing through the quiet intimacy of the morning.I was sitting on the sofa with Grace. She was tucked against my side, her cast resting on a silk pillow, her head heavy on my shoulder. We hadn't moved for hours. I was still wearing a robe, my hair uncombed—a state of disarray that would have normally horrified me. But today, I didn't care about the armor of a three-piece suit. I only cared about the warmth of the woman in my arms."Mr. Knight?" Arthur's voice came over the speaker, sounding strained. "Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Knight are downstairs. They say they’ve come to bring flowers and check on... Mrs. Knight’s recovery."I felt Grace stiffen against me. Her breath hitched, and a tremor ran through her body that had nothing to do with the air conditioning."Let them up," I said, my voice cold and flat."Sebastian, you don't have to," Grace whispered, clutching the lapel of my robe. Her eyes were wide, filled with the trauma of seeing h
Sebastian’s POV.The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the master suite, casting long, pale ribbons of light across the bed. For the first time in my life, the dawn didn't feel like a summons to war. It felt like a reprieve.Grace was draped across me, her head resting on my chest, her breathing deep and rhythmic. My arm was tucked beneath her, my hand resting protectively over the cast on her arm. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to break the spell.After the raw, desperate intensity of the bathroom last night—after we had finally stripped away the silence and the lies—this was the part I hadn't expected. The softness. The quiet way she sought out my heat in her sleep, her fingers curled into the fabric of my t-shirt.I ran my thumb slowly along the line of her shoulder, savoring the silkiness of her skin. The cold war between us had left us both gaunt, but holding her now, I felt a strange, terrifying sense of completion. I had spent my life building walls, but
Grace’s POV.The penthouse was quiet, but it wasn't the cold, suffocating silence of the last few days. It was a warm, protective quiet, the kind that muffled the world outside and made the rest of the city feel like a distant memory.Sebastian carried me through the front door."I can walk," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. My left arm was in a heavy cast, held close to my body in a sling. My head throbbed with a dull, rhythmic ache, but the hospital painkillers were keeping the worst of the fog at bay."I know you can," Sebastian said, his voice a low rumble against my ear. He kicked the door shut behind us, the sound final and firm. "But I’m not putting you down. I’m not letting go of you tonight."He walked straight past the guest room—the room that had been my lonely prison for the last three days—and carried me into the master suite. He laid me gently on the silk duvet, adjusting the pillows with a frantic, careful sort of grace to ensure I could sit up without






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