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My marriage was for money, his for vengeance
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-08-15
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When struggling waitress Elira Cruz was forced into entering a contract marriage with cold, ruthless billionaire Caelan Ferrer, she thought she was sealing just another business deal: one year, no emotions, no strings. But behind that icy stare lay hurtful memories Elira unknowingly played a part in. Snowed in by her messy kindness, the man who swore never to love again slowly began to thaw. Secrets begin to unfold underneath. A hidden link ties them much closer than either one would have imagined. Will their fake marriage survive the truth...or will love become the price of revenge?
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My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 147: The Morning Weight
5:52 AM — Bluebar Trace Transit Node The rust to blue line was a shadow in the early morning, a proposal instead of an edge. Elira's footsteps sounded differently on either side—the blue provided a harder snap, the rust a muffled bump. They sipped in silence, the bitter heat anchoring them to the cold. Beyond, the distant hum of people preparing for the day wafted in, the clatter of crates, the crunch of fabric on stalls. "Council will ask again today." Elira did not have to ask what. "And we'll tell them the same thing. Until we know it stands." --- 6:48 AM — Outer Walkway, Bluebar Trace The market was just coming to life—shadows still lingering long, bread still in rise, and fishmongers only beginning to lay out their day's catch. The air reeked of salt and brine. Marino beckoned them over from across the street, a tray of cooling flatbreads on the counter. "Block E enjoyed the previous batch," he told her, handing two over to a cloth wrapping. "Explain to them it's
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-08-15My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 146: The Lines That Hold
6:12 AM — Sector B, Bluebar Trace The blue to rust line had remained in Elira's periphery well after the stylus started tracing. The pages of the notebook captured each bend, each fissure, the manner in which the blue tile held onto its color while the rusty portion seemed to slide into the ground as if it was embarrassed about itself. Caelan didn’t speak at first. He stepped to her right, his gaze following hers toward the strip of junction where history had decided to divide itself. “You’re mapping again,” he said quietly. She gave a small nod. “Not just where things are. Where they’ve been left.” The dim hum of the overhead lights was punctured only by the scuff of their boots. Outside the transit node, day had already begun for others—the canteens steaming, the children crying as they hauled supplies to makeshift kitchens—but in here, it seemed as if the air had not moved in decades. --- 7:03 AM — Bluebar Trace Outer Walkway They walked along the broken pavement, Ca
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-08-15My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 145: The Pattern We Set
5:41 AM — Sector B, Bluebar Trace Dawn had tempered itself against the chill of the ancient transit node's tile. Signage had flaked off in spots, but the center remained sound—firm bones waiting to be remuscled anew. Elira stood at the line dividing blue from rust, notebook clutched in one hand, stylus idle. She hadn't even jotted down a word yet. Caelan approached from the trackway edge, hair still damp from an early wash. “You’re already mapping?” She shook her head. “Just… testing if it feels like a beginning.” He glanced down. The tiles beneath their feet were arranged in a herringbone pattern, once used to direct foot traffic during high-volume commutes. Caelan knelt to trace it. “It holds direction. Even now.” “That’s what I’m hoping for.” --- 7:10 AM — Mid-sector Archive, Hall C The box titled Transit-B2 Patterns: Legacy Systems weighed more than it should have. They opened it on a communal table, dust settling into light. On the inside were floor plans, mo
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-08-02My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 144: What We Still Carry
5:46 AM — Sector G, Skyrest OutpostThe wind was hushed this morning. It wasn't absent—simply stilled, like it had folded itself in respect. Elira stood atop the raised railing of Skyrest, where horizon met ridge of boundary. She observed the demarcation where blue bled into morning.Caelan was at her side, arms resting on the railing, his breath visible in the chill."Doesn't feel like it's stopping," he said."It's not," she said. "It's just changing again."Below them, the early crews trudged along the long bend of the perimeter—double-checking lines, passing on adjustments. From up above, their routes seemed like veins of light running through debris and bloom.7:18 AM — Sector D, Rootcast CommonsOn the boundary of a rebuilt public space, a child was relearning to walk—step by purposeful step across retextured pavement. Her grandmother sat silently on a bench that had been cut into the newly planted wall, fingers loosely entwined in her lap.Elira caught the detail from a distanc
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-08-02My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 11: The Morning After the Answer 7:18 AM – Penthouse Kitchen
The aroma of toast and just-peeled oranges hung in the air before Elira opened the door.Caelan was standing at the stove—bare feet, pushed-up sleeves, spatula in his hand like it was where it belonged. He looked back over his shoulder when he heard her cross the floor."Good morning," he said, sti
My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 4 paper chains and promises
The papers crackled as Elira turned the pages of the contract, her gaze following the crisp, unforgiving lettering that defined her next twelve months—if she agreed. Compensation: Generous monthly stipend. Living Arrangement: Shared penthouse suite, one. Medical Benefits: Complete family cover
My marriage was for money, his for vengeance Chapter 3 the envelope and the echoes
The letters leaped before her eyes. Marriage. Proposal. One year. Payment.Elira read the letter five times, and still it didn't make sense.The diner had shut down, the chairs turned upside down onto tables, the floors half-mopped and drying. The only light in the backroom flickered ever so slight
My marriage was for money, his for vengeance chapter 2 lunch rush and life lessons
It was nearing noon, the hour of madness rush at the diner. Orders shot out of the kitchen in spurts of yellings, paper tickets fluttered on the metal rail, and the bell rang like an overcooked warning siren for frayed tempers. Elira navigated through the latticework of tables, her notepad stuf
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