Married by Contract to My Killer: Julia’s Third Life

Like my entire life, the main hall of the mansion where I lived was filled with choices that were never mine.

Arrangements of white lilies, tall candles reflected on silver cutlery. The kind of décor that exuded power, luxury, and a legacy that, for all intents and purposes, did not belong to me.

Ten years of marriage.

Ten years of being Michael Sinclair’s perfect wife.

And yet, I felt like a guest in someone else’s home.

The last dinner guests had just left when Michael walked past me, impeccable as always, black hair slicked back, tall, tailored suit, straight posture, hard and unreachable expression.

He didn’t even lift his eyes to look at me.

It was always like this: the moment we were alone, the coldness and distance settled in.

I had spent all those years trying to earn even the smallest trace of affection from him, and I never succeeded. Some would say it was naïve of me to think it would be any different on our wedding anniversary.

And yet, something inside me still burned with hope.

I sighed, leaning against the table for a moment, staring at the floor.

Ten years.

That was what his father’s will demanded: ten years of marriage to me so that Michael could gain full access to the billionaire inheritance of the owner of a real estate empire spanning more than ten countries.

When my father, Vander, died suddenly in a car accident, his best friend, Robert Sinclair, promised he would take care of me. And he kept that promise by marrying me to his son.

Back then, I had a crush on Michael. I believed he would learn to like me, to see my effort, my dedication to him and to his empire.

Ten years later, I was still waiting.

I took a deep breath. Tonight could still be a good night. I had prepared something for him, a red lace nightgown that would surely catch his attention.

A few minutes later, I went upstairs, the sound of my heels echoing through the silent corridor of the mansion. Our bedroom was exactly as it always was: spacious, minimalist, impersonal.

Our bedroom… which was never truly ours.

Michael stood by the window, his back to me. The city skyline illuminated his silhouette.

“Michael?” I called, removing my earrings. “I have a surprise for you. If you wait here, I’ll just—”

He turned slowly. There was something different on his face, a repulsive sense of satisfaction that made me stop mid-sentence.

Without saying a word, he walked to the desk and picked up a black folder. He returned and placed it on the bed, between us.

“What is this?” I asked.

“You’re going to file for divorce.”

The words left his mouth like a muffled gunshot.

For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. The world tilted slightly, as if I had lost my balance without moving.

“What?” I repeated, my voice lower than expected, almost laughing in disbelief. “Divorce? Why would I do that?”

“The ten years are over, Julia. The agreement has been fulfilled,” Michael said. “But the will has a clause stating that only you can initiate the paperwork. So I took the liberty of having everything ready for you.”

Agreement.

That was what he called our marriage.

I picked up the folder carefully, as if it might explode in my hands. I opened it and flipped through the pages, sitting on the bed for a moment. Each page was a silent blow, filled with clauses, terms, and conditions that led to a single outcome: nothing for me.

No compensation. No protection.

Nothing.

If I signed it, I would give up everything, including what I had built over those ten years, and become a twenty-nine-year-old woman with no prospects. I would be right back where I had been at nineteen.

He wanted to erase me from my own life… with nothing.

“You’re joking,” I murmured.

“No,” he replied coldly. “It’s best for both of us.”

“For both of us?” I looked up at him, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’re leaving me with absolutely nothing after ten years. And on our wedding anniversary.”

“You knew from the beginning it was a marriage of convenience.”

“Convenience to you,” I corrected, something breaking inside me as I slammed the folder onto the bed and stood up. “I left my entire life behind. I reshaped myself to fit into your world, tried to please you, to win you over. I endured your indifference. I worked for that company. I dedicated myself.”

“Julia—”

“No!” I cut him off. “You will not do this to me like I’m disposable. I’m not signing anything.”

He sighed, clearly irritated, his expression weary, as if every word I spoke sent a wave of boredom through him.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.

That was when the door opened.

The strong perfume was instantly recognizable. I had smelled it countless times in Michael’s car and office. Before I even turned around, I knew who it was.

Lanna, his business partner and former lover.

She entered tall, elegant, confident, long blonde hair, red lipstick. A sculpted body wrapped in a dress clearly inappropriate for a late-night visit to a married couple’s bedroom.

“Darling, I asked you to wait,” he said, completely ignoring the fact that I was still there, still his wife.

“You took too long,” she replied in a nearly melodic voice, walking toward him and brushing past me. “I missed you.”

Darling.

He had never called me that.

My stomach twisted. I already knew, deep down, I always had, but it didn’t hurt any less.

It was like seeing a punch coming and still feeling its full impact.

“Of course,” I whispered, disappointment spilling from my voice. “Now everything makes sense.”

Michael took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Julia, listen—”

“How long?” I asked, my voice far too steady for someone falling apart inside.

Lanna wrapped her arms around him, looking at me as if I were an inconvenient obstacle, as If that gesture were enough for an answer.

Something inside me exploded.

“You cheated on me,” I said, staring at Michael. “And now you want to take everything from me?”

I placed my hands on my hips, a humorless laugh escaping me.

“I can sue you,” I continued. “I can demand half of everything and expose your affair. It would destroy your reputation and void the agreement. You’d lose the inheritance, did you forget that our prenuptial agreement included an infidelity clause? The marriage would be annulled and your inheritance… poof.” I gestured in the air, mockery on my face. “Gone.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he replied.

I smiled, a smile that held nothing sweet, gentle, or passive.

“Don’t underestimate me, Michael,” I said, my voice carrying a seriousness I didn’t know I possessed. “I endured you for ten years, but I always made it clear I wouldn’t be made a fool of.”

“You should accept your defeat with dignity,” Lanna said, stepping forward.

I turned to her.

“Shut up, you b*tch,” I snapped, fury burning in my eyes. “This is between me and my husband.”

The air grew heavy, the tension nearly tangible.

Everything happened too fast after that.

The room was swallowed by shouting. I remember being shoved and slapping back.

I remember my hair being pulled, hands that weren’t feminine pushing me. My body stumbled, the corner of the table rushing toward me as I fell, the ceiling spinning while a sharp pain exploded in my head.

A metallic smell. Something sticky covering my fingers when I reached for the back of my neck.

Heavy body. Cold. Distant voices.

“D*mn it, you got blood on my dress!” Lanna complained, her voice shrill with irritation.

“Ugh… what an unbearable woman,” Michael replied, his voice bored and full of contempt.

Then darkness took me.

Until I felt warmth behind my eyelids. An uncomfortable light hit my eyes. When I opened them slowly, it took a moment to understand where I was.

In front of me, a window, sunlight streaming through and landing directly on my face. Beside me, a mirror, my reflection staring back: a bride holding a necklace.

I frowned, scanning my reflection. It was the same wedding dress. The same fresh air of the countryside where the ceremony had taken place. The same sunlight pouring through the window.

It was unlikely, but it felt real.

I was back on my wedding day.