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Chapter 32: No Explanation
Last Updated:
2025-07-28 20:47:53
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My contracted wife Chapter 33: No more lies
The mansion was silent again too silent. The kind of silence that made George’s thoughts louder, more accusing.He stood by the tall windows of his study, phone in hand, screen dark. No new messages. No missed calls. His father still hadn’t returned his call, and that fact bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t like the old man to ignore him. As strained as their relationship was, there had always been a rigid pattern of power and response between them, one that was disturbingly absent now.George clenched his jaw and let the phone drop onto the table with a soft thud. His mind shifted again to Emily.The divorce.He had buried it beneath layers of distraction, pretending the delay didn’t gnaw at the edge of his sanity. But it did. It was a thread constantly tugging at him. He hadn’t filed the papers yet. He hadn’t told her either. In truth, he didn’t know if his father was purposely stalling out of time because he was sure Mr Thompson must have contacted his father aft
My contracted wife Chapter 32: No Explanation
George had been in meetings all morning, but his mind kept drifting back to the house. Back to Luna. Back to that brief moment at the door.He couldn’t explain it. A heaviness had sat in his chest ever since he stepped into the car. Something wasn’t right.The way Luna had rushed to the door…The way the delivery man stared at her, like he knew her. Like he meant for her to answer.And then the strangest part Luna hadn’t opened the package immediately. He knew her well enough by now. She was cautious, yes, but this was different. There had been tension in her face, a tightness in her posture that lingered in his memory.At exactly 1:17 PM, George had had enough.He reached for the intercom on his desk and pressed the direct line to the Knights Estate's Chief of Security.“Michael,” he said without preamble, his voice low and clipped.“Yes, sir?”“I need the security footage from the main entrance this morning,” George said. “Time stamp between 6:30 and 7:30 AM. Download it and send it
My contracted wife Chapter 31: Cold realization
Luna hadn’t rested.Not truly. Not deeply. Not in the way that brings peace.Even on the nights she closed her eyes, her mind remained alert,tense,suspended between memory and anticipation. Sebastian still occupied a space in her mind that she couldn’t evict. Like a shadow that lingered even in full sunlight.She had tried to track him down.She wasn’t even sure why anymore. Was it fear? Was it closure? Was it curiosity? Perhaps all three.Either way, she had gone to his favorite bar. Not once. Not twice. But four times. Each time wearing different disguises of confidence, but inside, always the same bracing for the echo of his voice, the familiar lean of his frame at the counter, the way he would smile like he owned the room.But he never showed.The bartender grew familiar with her face, but always shook his head when she inquired.“No one’s seen him, not in weeks,” he said the last time. “Almost like he disappeared.”And the messages those cruel, venom-laced texts that used to come
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
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