Mr. CEO, Your Contract Wife Is Gone!

"It's been almost a year, and somehow, it all slipped away."

The quiet murmur escaped Sienna Hayes's lips—a thirty-year-old woman trapped in a cold marriage that had lasted for an entire year.

Her voice was nearly drowned out by the clinking of crystal glasses and the subdued laughter of the city's elite filling the ballroom of the five-star hotel that evening.

Sienna's gaze was empty, fixed on the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dazzling city lights beyond the building.

A heavy, invisible weight pressed against her chest.

"Watch your expression, Sienna. Smile. The reporters' cameras are pointed at us."

The deep, cold, commanding baritone instantly pulled Sienna from her thoughts.

Damian Blackwell—her contract husband, a thirty-five-year-old man who was as cold as he was ambitious.

Standing tall beside her, Damian shifted slightly closer before wrapping an arm possessively around her waist. The touch felt warm against her skin, yet painfully cold to her heart.

Sienna flinched ever so slightly but quickly composed herself.

Turning toward Damian, she returned his gaze with the polite smile she had perfected over the past 365 days.

"Do your job as usual. Don't let the board of directors catch even the slightest sign of displeasure on your face," Damian whispered firmly. His lips barely moved as he continued looking straight ahead, greeting his business associates.

Sienna maintained her smile, concealing the discomfort she felt.

Under the relentless flashes of the photographers' cameras, they were the picture of the perfect couple.

The handsome, decisive, and ambitious CEO of Blackwell Group stood beside his gentle and elegant wife.

Yet behind the glamorous image, they both knew that their marriage was nothing more than a transaction bound by ink and paper. One year earlier, they had exchanged vows at the altar not because of love, but because of a one-year contract that served each of their interests.

Damian needed the image of a stable, married man to convince the board of directors, secure his position as CEO, and win the company's new mega shopping mall project. Meanwhile, Sienna, cornered by the cruelty of her own family, needed Damian's financial power and legal influence to reclaim the old house her late mother had left behind.

As soon as the photographers lowered their cameras and respectfully stepped aside, the warmth around Sienna's waist disappeared.

Damian withdrew his hand as though touching her had burned him.

He straightened the folds of his designer suit, which fit his tall frame perfectly, without sparing his wife so much as a glance.

"Stay here. Don't make any sudden moves that might invite questions from the reporters," Damian said flatly without looking at her.

After remaining silent and smiling the entire time, Sienna finally spoke.

"Damian, my head feels a little—"

Her sentence was cut short.

Damian had already turned away and strode toward the group of senior commissioners who had just arrived at the entrance.

He neither waited for her explanation nor cared about the pale look on his wife's face.

As far as Damian was concerned, Sienna had already fulfilled her role for the evening.

She had served her purpose as a living ornament that completed his flawless public image.

Sienna let out a slow breath.

Her fingers, clasped together in front of her ivory satin gown, gradually turned white as she endured the throbbing headache spreading across her temples.

"Look who's standing all alone in the corner like a cheap decoration."

The familiar voice dripping with sarcasm made Sienna turn around.

Beatrice Blackwell, her mother-in-law, approached with Elena, Damian's younger sister. Both women held glasses of champagne while their eyes swept over Sienna from head to toe with open judgment.

"Mother, Elena," Sienna greeted softly, bowing her head politely.

Throughout the past year, she had always done her best to maintain proper manners in front of the Blackwell family, swallowing every bit of their arrogance and contempt without complaint.

Beatrice scoffed as her gaze settled on the delicate pearl necklace around Sienna's neck.

"The Blackwell family secured a multi-trillion-dollar project tonight, Sienna. And you chose to wear an old necklace that's not even worth more than a bottle of champagne on that table? Are you trying to make our business partners think Damian doesn't provide for you?"

Sienna instinctively touched the necklace around her neck.

Forcing a faint smile, she replied, "It belonged to my mother, Mother. I thought it matched—"

"Your mother? The one from the nearly bankrupt Hayes family who died years ago?" Elena interrupted with a restrained laugh.

The twenty-seven-year-old woman glanced at Sienna's gown with undisguised disdain.

"Damian has been far too kind to you, Sienna."

Sienna remained silent, looking at Elena, who never failed to praise the Blackwell family whenever she wanted to belittle her.

Before Sienna could respond, Elena continued.

"If Damian hadn't redeemed your late mother's old house from your useless father, you'd probably be homeless by now. You should know your place. At the very least, don't embarrass the Blackwell name at an event this important."

Elena's words pierced straight through Sienna's chest.

The pain was sharp, yet left no visible wound.

Sienna glanced toward the center of the ballroom.

There, Damian was laughing softly as he toasted with a government minister—a sight she had rarely witnessed.

She noticed him glance briefly in her direction before looking away again.

A bitter smile appeared on Sienna's lips.

Even though Damian knew that his mother and sister disliked her, he had never protected her the way a husband should.

Then again...

How could she expect that when their marriage had only ever been a contract?

Sienna closed her eyes for a moment.

The ache in her head was nothing compared to the exhaustion weighing down her soul.

For the past year, she had endured everything in silence.

She accepted the servants' contemptuous looks at the Blackwell residence, Beatrice's cutting remarks, and Elena's spoiled behavior, treating her like an unpaid personal assistant.

She endured it all because she owed Damian for saving the last memory of her mother from the greed of her stepmother.

But tonight, seeing Damian ignore her for the sake of a business relationship, something inside Sienna finally shattered.

The cracks she had spent an entire year patching together with patience collapsed completely.

Sienna slowly opened her eyes.

They were no longer as gentle as before.

She looked at Beatrice and Elena, who were still standing before her with mocking expressions, then offered them a faint smile filled with a determination they had never seen before.

"Thank you for your advice, Mother... Elena," Sienna said calmly.

Her tone became noticeably more formal.

"Please excuse me. I'm going to the restroom."

Without waiting for Beatrice's permission, Sienna turned and walked away.

She moved through the crowd with steady, confident steps.

Once inside the quiet ladies' restroom, she placed both hands on the edge of the marble sink and stared at her reflection in the large mirror.

Her face was pale.

Her fingers gently touched the pearl necklace around her neck.

Exactly one week from now, her time in that house would come to an end.

The ownership of her mother's house had officially been transferred back to her name two days earlier.

Her duty as Damian's trophy wife was finally over.

Sienna reached into her small handbag, took out her phone, and looked at the digital calendar.

"That's enough, Sienna. Don't let yourself lose any more of your self-respect."

She whispered the words to her own reflection.

No tears fell.

Her sadness had transformed into cold determination.

When she stepped out of the restroom, Damian was already standing in the quiet corridor with his arms crossed, impatience written across his face.

"What took you so long? The main event is almost over. We need to say goodbye to the family," Damian said in a demanding tone.

Sienna met Damian's sharp black eyes.

Not once had he ever asked whether she was tired, whether her head hurt, or why she had been gone so long.

"Let's go," Sienna replied briefly.

She did not smile anymore.

For the first time since their marriage, Sienna walked ahead of Damian, leaving him behind.

And after tonight...

She would continue doing so forever.