Aria Brooks thought she was living the dream—married to a successful businessman and finally escaping her tragic past. But her world comes crashing down when Ethan serves her divorce papers at their anniversary party, humiliating her before their friends and family. Thrown out into the rain, she’s rescued by none other than Julian Huxley—her ex-husband’s billionaire rival. Julian offers Aria a shocking proposal: a contract marriage. In exchange for acting as a mother to his daughter and accompanying him on his public endeavors, he will cover her mother’s medical bills and provide financial security. Hesitant but desperate, Aria agrees. But as she navigates the dangerous waters of their agreement, she begins to uncover secrets that threaten her newfound stability—and her heart.
Lihat lebih banyakAria's POV
Sanity had become a fragile thing, slipping through my fingers like sand as I stared at my laptop screen. I was searching for the perfect hall to host our fourth wedding anniversary banquet with Ethan tomorrow. I'd already secured the top caterer in the state and a renowned bartender—everything needed to impress the social elite who would flock to the event. But deep down, I knew this was more than just a party; it was my way of proving I belonged in Ethan's world, despite the shadows of my past. "Perfect," I muttered under my breath, saving a photo of the opulent venue for later reference. Ethan and I had always gone all out for these anniversaries, turning them into spectacles of wealth and status. Yet, as I closed the laptop, a nagging doubt gnawed at me—the way his family looked at me, like I was an intruder from the "wretched background" they so often sneered about. I pushed the thought away, focusing on the details. I had to make this flawless. The sharp click of heels on the tiled floor shattered the quiet. Louisa, my sister-in-law, strode into the dining room with her mother, Tracy, trailing behind like a shadow. Their smug expressions glowed under the white chandelier, a stark contrast to the storm brewing outside. Louisa slammed a brown envelope onto the white marble table, the impact jolting me from my thoughts. "Sign it, bitch," she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. My neck craned as I glanced between the envelope, Louisa, and Tracy. "What's this?" I asked, though I already sensed the malice in the air. Louisa and Tracy had never hidden their contempt for me. As Ethan's sister and mother, they saw me as nothing more than a gold-digging intruder, a remnant of the poverty I'd escaped. I'd grown up with an abusive father who abandoned us, leaving me to scrape by for my sick mother and younger sister. Marrying Ethan had been my salvation, or so I'd thought—a contract that promised security in exchange for playing the perfect wife. Louisa snickered, folding her arms and cocking her hip defiantly. "Divorce papers. Time's up, you gold-digging slut." Tracy lurked behind her like an enforcer, wrinkling her nose as if my presence alone offended her. She'd once told me I smelled like poverty, and now her expression confirmed it. The words hit hard, but I forced myself to stay composed. This had to be another one of their schemes; they'd tried sabotaging our marriage before, introducing him to their socialite friends and daughters, accusing me of imagined betrayals. "What?" I snatched the envelope, the rough paper scraping my fingertips. I pulled out the documents and scanned them quickly, my eyes locking on Ethan's unmistakable signature at the bottom. My face drained of color, and my heart hammered against my ribs. "What is the meaning of this?" Louisa stared daggers at me, her voice turning into a snarl. "Divorce means you pack your sorry ass and leave. My brother's done with your slutty nature." She circled the table and shoved a pen into my hands, her grip bruising. My head spun as I tried to process it. Ethan and I had been fine just this morning—sharing breakfast, discussing business as usual. Why now, on the cusp of our anniversary? "It can't be," I muttered, inching backward until I leaned against the dark brown sideboard by the off-white wall. The cool wood grounded me, but only barely. "Stop being so dramatic and sign those papers," Louisa yelled, tapping her foot impatiently on the white marble floor. I met their gazes, defiance flickering through my haze of confusion. "I'll wait for Ethan to get back." Their hatred for our union was no secret; they'd stop at nothing to tear us apart. But Ethan had always protected me from them before. This had to be a mistake. Tracy grimaced and closed in, her hand cracking across my face with a high-pitched smack that echoed through the room. "Are you calling us liars?" she demanded, her voice as cold as ice. Pain flared on my cheek, and tears stung my eyes, but I couldn't tell if it was from the slap or the betrayal staring back at me from those papers. Ethan loved me—or at least, I'd believed he did. Our marriage might have started as a contract, with me acting as his wife in exchange for help with my mother's medical bills, but I'd let myself hope it had become real. Louisa and Tracy said nothing more, just exchanged devilish grins and swept out of the room, leaving me alone with the storm raging both inside and outside. Two hours later, the familiar rumble of Ethan's car engine cut through the rain's relentless clatter as he pulled into the driveway. My fingers, sore from nervous biting, clenched the papers tighter as I stormed to the front door, a mix of anticipation and dread flooding my veins. "Ethan, what are these?" I demanded, holding up the documents. "Divorce papers," he replied flatly, his face a mask of cold indifference. He shrugged off his partially drenched coat and tossed it onto the white sofa. "Your services are no longer needed." His words hit like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I thought he loved me, that our shared moments meant something beyond the contract. Was it all just an act for appearances? "Ethan... why would you...?" My voice caught in my throat, choked by pain. "Because he doesn't want you anymore, you witch! What don't you understand?" Louisa shouted from the stairs, clearly relishing my downfall. I ignored her, my reddened eyes fixed on Ethan. "Please talk to me. I don't understand. Why the sudden change of heart?" My chest burned with more than heartache; it felt like my entire world was unraveling. He sighed—that heavy, ominous sigh I dreaded. It always preceded something devastating. "It's not a game, Aria. You should sign the papers and leave. I have no use for you anymore." The room grew heavy with silence, the cold seeping in like the rain outside. My heart shattered, fractures etching deep into my bones. Blood rushed to my ears, making my head light and woozy, as if I were trapped in a nightmare. Tracy wandered back in, tossing the pen at my feet. "Sign and get out of my son's house." The contract's terms flashed in my mind: I played the role of his wife, and in return, he covered my mother's bills. Now, that lifeline was gone. I swallowed hard, a new chill racing down my spine. "What about my mother?" "She gets nothing. The contract is done. Leave," Ethan said, his tone ruthless and final. My eyes widened in horror, and dignity crumbled as I dropped to my knees, clutching his leg desperately. "Please, Ethan, you're all I have." Tears streamed down my face, hot as fire against my skin. He yanked his leg away with a groan of disgust. "Leave, you wretched slut. Ethan's found someone befitting—Bethany, the daughter of tycoon Walter Reed. She'd make a much better wife than your filthy self." Louisa grinned triumphantly. One look at Ethan's expression confirmed it all. Thunder boomed outside, and the downpour intensified, mirroring the storm in my chest. This was about another woman, about me never truly fitting into his elite circle. Picking up the pieces of my broken heart, I rose shakily. "Fine. I'll sign it." I grabbed the pen and wiped at my tears, but they kept falling, soaking the papers on the black coffee table as heavily as the rain outside. With a sharp inhale, I scrawled my name. It was my fault—I'd gotten too comfortable, mistaken an illusion for reality. Shunning the glee on Tracy and Louisa's faces, I handed the papers to Ethan. "I'll pack my things." Tracy sneered. "What things? Everything here belongs to my son. You came with nothing, so you leave with nothing." Louisa giggled in agreement. I turned to Ethan, who remained silent, unmoved. Then he nodded to the security guard I'd barely noticed by the door. "Get her out of here. Now!" The man seized my wrist, his rough, calloused hand bruising my skin. I winced as he dragged me into the pouring rain, leaving me with nothing—not even cab fare to reach the other side of the city. He tossed me onto the wet, cold pavement outside the gate, the chains clinking shut behind me. I lay there for a moment, like a sinner exiled from heaven for unseen sins, my knees and elbows scraped raw. Slowly, I pushed myself up and trudged forward, a zombie in the deluge. The rain battered my skin like an unrelenting foe, forming blisters on my bare feet with every step. The freezing cold gnawed at me, but it couldn't touch the burning void in my chest. I hugged myself tightly, teeth chattering as the chill devoured any warmth. Then, out of nowhere, a black Ferrari glided to a stop beside me. The tinted window lowered smoothly, revealing a man with jet-black hair and a face sculpted to perfection—piercing blue eyes that cut through the darkness. "What's a damsel like you doing out in this storm? Let me give you a lift?" he asked, his voice smooth and commanding. His gaze stirred something unexpected—a warmth in the midst of the cold. I'd seen that face before, through the fog of my pain: Julian Huxley, the ruthless CEO of Huxley Enterprises and Ethan's fiercest rival. What did he want from me? As the rain poured on, a new unease twisted in my gut—this encounter felt like the start of something far more dangerous than I could handle.The room was silent except for the occasional rustling of leaves outside the small cabin’s windows. I stood still, my breath steady, trying to keep my emotions in check.Clara was sitting across from me, her cold eyes fixed on me like a predator watching its prey. The knife she had been wielding earlier was nowhere to be seen, but I knew better than to assume she was disarmed. She could snap at any moment.“You look so... calm,” Clara finally spoke, her voice filled with that same eerie sweetness she always used. It was like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t. “I thought you’d be more afraid.”“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, my voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline in my veins. I wasn’t sure if I was lying to her or to myself. “I’m just waiting for Julian to get here.”Her lips twisted into a smile. “Oh, he’s coming. He’s always coming. But you don’t understand, do you? He’s mine. He always was.”I didn’t respond. There was nothing I could say to that. Julian had bee
Finally after what seemed like eternity, Clara walked through the café’s entrance like she belonged there.Hair dyed black. Eyes covered in dark sunglasses. But I knew it was her.She didn’t even try to disguise the way she moved—sharp, quick, always scanning.She sat across from me without a word.I didn’t speak either.For a moment, it was just the sound of clinking cups and faint music from the radio.Then she removed her sunglasses.Her eyes were hollow. But alive.“I was wondering when you’d finally give up,” she said.“I didn’t.”“You left him.”“I didn’t say that either.”She tilted her head, amused. “You always were good at pretending.”I said nothing.Clara leaned forward.“I’m not here to make a scene,” she said softly. “I’m just here to tell you something.”I kept my tone even. “I’m listening.”She glanced around. “Not here.”“I’m not going anywhere with you.”“Suit yourself.”She stood.Then she slipped a note onto the table.The Warehouse before Julian’s Estate. Sunset. C
The guesthouse was musty. Empty. But not untouched.In the small bathroom, we found hair dye, scissors, colored contacts.She was changing her appearance.Preparing for something.The walls were covered with post-it notes.One said:I know where she keeps the pills.Another:Gabriella doesn’t need a liar. She needs me.A third:Kill the snake. Save the garden.Julian took a photo of each one. I found a burned matchbook from the same hotel Vanessa mentioned weeks ago.“She met Ethan here,” I whispered.Julian nodded. “And he gave her orders.”***Back at the main house, we walked in to find Gabriella crying.She’d had a nightmare. My mom was holding her, but she reached for me the second I stepped through the door.“She said she was here,” Gabriella sobbed.“Who, sweetheart?”“Clara. She said she was going to take me away.”My heart dropped.Julian turned to his security . “Lock it down. No one leaves. No one enters without clearance.”The house went into full lockdown within minute
We waited until the house was asleep.The guards rotated shifts. The cameras were checked. Gabriella had been tucked in and kissed goodnight. Julian lingered by her door a little too long.I didn’t say anything.We both knew what we were about to do couldn’t wait.Clara’s room had been locked since the day she vanished. No one dared enter. Not even the maids.But that night, Julian took the keys from the drawer in his office and walked ahead of me in silence.I followed him down the east wing. The air felt colder there, like the walls remembered her.He unlocked the door. We stepped inside.The room smelled faintly of lavender. Her sheets were neatly made. The curtains drawn. It looked untouched.Too untouched.Julian didn’t speak. He moved with purpose, checking the closet first.I opened the drawers. Inside were perfectly folded clothes. Underwear, white cotton bras. No dust. No sign of haste.But it was the mirror that stopped me.A heart drawn in red lipstick. Inside it, Julian’s
After the explosion, I couldn’t find Julian by dawn.“Have you see my husband?” I asked the housekeeper.“No ma’am. But breakfast is set, though,” she answered I found his breakfast untouched but my mom and Gabriella had had theirs already.I sat to eat but I was worried about Julian.He left no note, no goodbye. Just a locked drawer, and a tense silence that filled the entire estate.By the way his clothes were thrown across the couch it looked like he changed in a rush.Clara had vanished again. No sightings. No trace. Just whispers that she was still out there. It was obvious at this point that she had help..Julian didn’t tell me where he was going.But I knew.He was hunting Vanessa. She had to be the one helping Clara.Julian’s POV Anger and rage boiled in me.Vanessa wasn’t easy to intimidate. That much I knew but I had to speak to her, she had to stop aiding Clara’s madness.She liked power plays.She liked secrets more.I had sent her a message earlier so we met at a restau
Insomnia hugged me, my thoughts all on how Clara had made her way in here.She hadn’t hurt me. Hilisn and the guards got to her before she could do anything. But I couldn’t wave away the look I saw in her eyes. Not rage. It was obsession. Utmost devotion to Julian.She believed he belonged to her.And part of me wondered if she was right. Because I had seen them interact. I had seen Julian stand up for her to me.I sat on the edge of his bed watching him sleep.He opened his eye a little, “I asked you to sleep here with me today, Aria. Why do you act like it’s an unpleasant thing? You should be happy and comfortable in your husband’s arm”I wasn’t.I hadn’t been in his arm for a while. So why now? This was one of his security and control measures. Gabriella was made to sleep with my mom, with security heavily manning the door. While I was forced to sleep here.I didn’t sleep a wink.By morning, the security team had locked Clara away “Where was she locked?” I asked the chief of sec
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