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The Chains We Chose
Last Updated:
2025-09-06 18:45:22
Latest chapter
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife Ashes of Rejection
The silence in the mansion was suffocating. It pressed down on me like an unwelcome shroud, thick with words left unsaid and accusations that still lingered in the corners. Isabella’s voice echoed in my head long after she had stormed out of the drawing room—sharp, cutting, dripping with disdain.“Do you know how many women have sat in that very chair?”Her sneer. Her certainty. Her conviction that I was no different.I should have been shaken by it. Should have shrunk under the weight of her judgment the way I had so many times before in my life. But instead, I found something else rising in me—a fire I hadn’t felt in months, maybe years. I had stood up to her. For the first time in a long time, I hadn’t played the quiet, compliant girl who let others dictate my worth.And yet… when the adrenaline faded, something darker filled the space it left behind.Damien.The name itself burned like acid.He had stood at the altar with me. My hands trembling in lace gloves, my heart wide open,
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife Fire Behind Closed Doors
I found Isabella waiting for me in the drawing room the next morning, her posture a picture of elegance—legs crossed, silk robe wrapped tightly around her as if it were armor. She held a porcelain teacup in her hand, but from the hard glint in her eyes, I could tell she wasn’t here for tea.“Elena,” she said smoothly, gesturing to the chair across from her. “Sit.”The command in her voice grated against my skin. I wanted to refuse, to keep walking until I was far from her poisonous gaze. But I sat anyway, if only to prove I wasn’t afraid.She studied me for a long moment, the silence thickening between us. Finally, she spoke. “Do you know how many women have sat in that very chair?”My brows knit. “I don’t—”“Dozens,” she cut in sharply. “Dozens of them. All with the same wide-eyed look, all pretending they were different. And do you know what they wanted?” She leaned forward, her eyes flashing. “Money. Power. Access to my brother’s name.”I felt heat rising in my chest, but I forced
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife The Chains We Chose
The drive back from my parents’ house felt colder than the ride there, though the late afternoon sun painted everything in golden light. I could still hear my mother’s words echoing in my chest like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.Beside me, Alexander sat rigid, his profile sharp against the fading horizon. He hadn’t said a word since we left, but his silence wasn’t empty. It pulsed with accusation.Finally, I broke it. “You don’t have to look at me like that.”His eyes flicked toward me briefly, then back to the road. “Like what?”“Like you know something you’re not saying. Like you’re waiting for me to confess.”His jaw tightened, the only betrayal of his calm. “What did she tell you?”I swallowed hard. “Who?”“Your mother.” His voice was quiet but edged like steel. “When you were alone upstairs. What did she say?”I hesitated, fingers twisting in my lap. “She just… she just reminded me that I have a home there. That’s all.”His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. “And did s
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife Home, But Not the Same
The car ride felt longer than it should have, though the city blurred past in a stream of gray and gold. Alexander sat beside me, impeccably silent, his presence like a fortress I couldn’t climb. I clutched my hands together in my lap, staring out the tinted window, rehearsing what I might say to my parents.How much of this sham could I hide? How much of myself could I reveal?When the car finally rolled up to my parents’ modest home—the same house where I’d spent my childhood—the weight in my chest nearly split me in two. The familiarity of it, the garden my mother tended with calloused hands, the faint creak of the porch step, it was home. My real home.“Ready?” Alexander’s voice was low, unreadable.I forced a nod.The door swung open before I even knocked. My mother’s face appeared, lined with years but glowing at the sight of me. “Elena!” she exclaimed, pulling me into her arms before I could even breathe.I clung to her, burying my face into her shoulder. For the first time in
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife A Sister’s Sting
I was halfway through gathering my shawl when I heard the sharp click of heels echoing in the hallway. That sound alone carried arrogance, precisely the kind of warning Isabella preferred to give before her presence swallowed the room.She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, lips curled into that smirk I had grown accustomed to since the night of her arrival. Her gaze swept over me slowly, deliberately, as if I were some fragile ornament in Alexander’s house that she couldn’t wait to break.“Running off so soon, little bride?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. “Or are you fleeing before my brother realizes just what kind of woman he’s tied himself to?”I straightened, refusing to shrink beneath her words. “I’m visiting my parents. Nothing more.”Her laugh was short and sharp. “Parents. How quaint. I suppose you’ll remind them how you’ve ascended the ladder of society. Or will you spare them the detail that it’s nothing more than a deal? Hmm?”My heart jolted, though I kep
Rejected Bride, Billionaire's Wife The Permission I Shouldn’t Need
I woke that morning with a knot in my chest. The mansion was as quiet as a graveyard, save for the faint clink of silverware from the dining room where Isabella had likely stationed herself, sipping tea like a queen awaiting her subjects. Ever since she arrived, she’d made it her mission to remind me that I wasn’t one of them, that I was here on borrowed time.But today wasn’t about Isabella. Today, I needed courage for something bigger. Something harder.I needed to ask Alexander for permission.Permission, to see my own parents.The ridiculousness of it twisted something bitter in me. What kind of marriage required me to seek approval for something so ordinary? A sham one, I reminded myself. A contract where freedom came second to appearances, where my life, my movements had been quietly absorbed into his.I found him in his study, sunlight spilling across his broad shoulders as he scanned papers on his desk. Always so composed. Always in control.“Alexander,” I said, my voice stead
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