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Chapter 24: The fallout
Last Updated:
2025-07-21 19:56:11
Latest chapter
My contracted wife Chapter 30: Where the buries begin
The room was dark, cloaked in a silence so thick it felt suffocating. George tossed restlessly in bed, his face tensed, drenched in sweat as the shadows of the past clawed their way into his dreams.A door slammed.A younger version of himself flinched.“Where the hell is she?!” his father’s voice roared through the house, thick with alcohol and venom.George stood frozen in the hallway, his small fists clenched. He was no more than thirteen, but already too familiar with the sound of glass shattering and his mother’s muffled cries.From the corner of the dim living room, he saw her his mother curled on the floor, trying to shield herself.“Don’t you ever talk back to me, woman!” his father bellowed, towering over her with eyes full of fury.George’s heart pounded against his ribs.“Stop it!” his voice cracked, but it rang out.His father turned, amused. “What did you say, boy?”George’s limbs trembled, but he stepped forward. “I said stop! Leave her alone!”Then came the slap. Sharp,
My contracted wife Chapter 29: A storm
“There’s more to your marriage than you think, George.”Mr. Thompson’s words echoed in George’s mind like a bell tolling in a cathedral slow, deep, and unsettling.Even hours later, long after the meeting ended, George couldn’t push the words out of his head. He returned to the mansion with a storm swirling behind his calm exterior, but the luxury of the house felt more like a gilded cage tonight.He couldn’t sleep.He tried.Tried closing his eyes, tried distracting himself with contracts and deadlines, even poured himself a drink but none of it worked. His thoughts kept returning to the same questions.What did his father have to do with his marriage to Emily?Why was Thompson so certain that he needed to speak to the old man before filing the divorce papers?Why now?By 6 AM, George had already instructed Nathan to cancel all of his appointments. He had no patience for boardroom chatter today. But he did ask for the necessary documents to be sent to the mansion—work couldn’t stop
My contracted wife Chapter 28: Emily's plot
The walls of the penthouse echoed with tension as the sun dipped behind the city skyline, casting long shadows across the marble floors. Emily stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her arms folded tightly across her chest, watching the evening lights flicker to life across Manhattan. Behind her, Nolan slammed the folder onto the table. “How long, Emily?” His voice was low, trembling not with fear, but something dangerously close to heartbreak. “How long have you been plotting this?” Emily didn’t flinch. She turned slowly, her expression unreadable, but her eyes glittered with a calm cruelty. “Plotting? You make it sound so sinister. I prefer the word... premeditated.” Nolan took a few steps toward her, stopping just short of touching her. “You don’t have to do this. Whatever you’re planning whatever revenge fantasy you're feeding off we can let it go. Let’s leave it behind. We can build something real, Emily.” That made her laugh a sharp, bitter sound that cracked like glas
My contracted wife Chapter 27: A divorce
George had made sure the meeting with Mr. Thompson would be held today.He rose early, as always, his routine precise and unbothered. The sunlight barely filtered through the blinds when he stepped out of the bathroom, freshly groomed and dressed in his signature charcoal suit. Yet, as he descended the grand staircase of the mansion, there was no sign of Luna.Again.She was avoiding him no question about it.Ever since he’d offered to help with whatever silent storm she had been battling, she had kept her distance, shrouding herself in polite silence and cold walls. He couldn’t blame her entirely. Vulnerability didn’t come easy, not for people like them. And though he saw her as a strong woman, someone who didn’t break easily, something in her had cracked.Still, helping her wasn’t a priority right now. Not when his own demons were clawing at his door.He walked into the dining room, grabbed the cup of coffee already set at the head of the table by one of the servants, nodded absentl
My contracted wife Chapter 27: A divorce
George had made sure the meeting with Mr. Thompson would be held today.He rose early, as always, his routine precise and unbothered. The sunlight barely filtered through the blinds when he stepped out of the bathroom, freshly groomed and dressed in his signature charcoal suit. Yet, as he descended the grand staircase of the mansion, there was no sign of Luna.Again.She was avoiding him no question about it.Ever since he’d offered to help with whatever silent storm she had been battling, she had kept her distance, shrouding herself in polite silence and cold walls. He couldn’t blame her entirely. Vulnerability didn’t come easy, not for people like them. And though he saw her as a strong woman, someone who didn’t break easily, something in her had cracked.Still, helping her wasn’t a priority right now. Not when his own demons were clawing at his door.He walked into the dining room, grabbed the cup of coffee already set at the head of the table by one of the servants, nodded absentl
My contracted wife Chapter 26: A bold step
Luna sank deeper into the velvet cushions, the soft hum of the mansion stretching around her like a whisper she couldn’t ignore. Her fingers curled tightly around her phone, knuckles pale from the grip. The past two days had felt like a blur too loud and too quiet all at once. She fought the relentless urge to refresh her screen again, to search for any new updates from Mia, anything at all about him.But instead, she surrendered to the silence.The mansion, usually a display of opulence and calm, now felt like a gilded cage. The golden morning sun filtered through gauzy curtains, casting soft rays across the marble floor, but it couldn’t warm the chill inside her chest. Her thoughts spiraled Sebastian’s voice, his touch, the lies, the pains and the look in his eyes the last time they’d seen each other. She thought she’d buried that chapter. She was wrong.The gala had reopened old wounds she had carefully stitched shut.Abruptly, she rose from the couch, as if motion could quiet the
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