The CEO’s Contract Bride

ISABELLA’S POV

My eyes fluttered open; the first thing I noticed was the soreness that spread through my body.

I looked down and froze.

I was naked; even my underwear was missing.

Why am I not dressed?

I sat up on the wide bed and my head throbbed, and the room spinned slightly.

This was not my room.

I looked around the unfamiliar room. The red stain on the sheets and the scattered clothes on the floor clearly indicated something had happened last night.

What had happened last night?

My heart began to race. I pulled the sheets up, my fingers were shaking. The air smelled masculine and unfamiliar.

Then I felt movement.

There was someone else in the room, and he was already awake.

He sat on the couch adjacent to the bed; his shirt was on but unbuttoned.

He didn’t seem surprised to see me; instead, he looked irritated.

“You set this up, right?” he asked. His voice was calm, yet it carried a hint of danger.

I shook my head.

“I didn’t,” I said, my throat dry.

He scoffed. “You don’t just wake up in someone’s bed by accident.”

I panicked instantly.

“I don’t remember coming here,” I said quickly. “I don’t even know how I got into this room.”

He turned slightly, finally looking at me. His eyes were cold.

“That’s convenient,” he said.

His words stung.

“I would never do anything like this,” I said, clutching the sheets tighter to my chest. “I didn’t plan this.”

He stood up then. I gasped when I saw what he was holding.

My employee identification card.

“You work for me, don’t you?”

I finally realized who he was.

Ethan Dexter.

My boss's boss's boss.

The CEO.

“Is this your plan to gain favour,” he asked, “by sleeping your way up?”

“I would never do that,” I said, raising my voice slightly.

“Then why are you in my bed?” he shouted.

I flinched at the sound of his voice.

I tried hard to remember how I ended up in his room, but I couldn’t.

I remembered being at the company party last night, but the rest was blank.

He stood up abruptly.

“You’re fired. Get dressed and get out.”

“What?” I gasped. “Mr. Dexter, please. I didn’t set this up.”

He didn’t look back and slammed the door shut.

I dressed quickly, my hands shaking as tears blurred my vision. I left the room and stumbled back to the one assigned to me for the company event.

I rushed into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the water run over me as I cried silently.

When I finally checked my phone, there was an email waiting.

Termination notice.

I sobbed uncontrollably. I had lost my innocence and my job overnight.

By the time I left the hotel, my eyes burned from crying. I packed my things and returned to my apartment.

Days later, I walked into the lobby of Ethan’s company.

The moment I stepped inside, people stared at me. I tried my best to ignore the staring eyes as I cleared my desk.

Sophia Vale, a senior colleague, approached me. She pulled me aside into the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.

“I came to clear my desk,” I said softly.

Sophia was one of the senior colleagues I admired.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Why?” I asked, lifting my head.

She didn’t hesitate before speaking. “Everyone knows what you did.”

My chest tightened. “What?”

She looked at me with disappointment.

“I never thought you’d stoop so low, Isabella. You’re too young to be scheming your way into people’s beds,” she said, raising her voice slightly.

People nearby began whispering.

“I didn’t do it,” I snapped.

No one believed me.

Everyone around looked at me with disdain.

She didn’t say anything else and just walked away.

Security escorted me out moments later.

I lowered my head and tried to cover my face with my hair.

“Slut,” someone muttered behind me.

When I reached my apartment, a letter lay on the floor.

Rent due.

I groaned in frustration.

The next few days, I tried applying for jobs but was turned down.

Slowly, I realized the truth.

The story had spread and had been twisted into something ugly. I was labelled a seductress, and no one would employ me.

Another letter arrived for me one evening.

An eviction notice.

I sat on the floor and held my knees close to my chest. I didn’t cry; I didn’t have the strength anymore.

By morning, I was done packing my few clothes and belongings.

The cab dropped me in front of a mansion

.

I rang the bell.

“Welcome home, Ms. Moretti,” one of the maids greeted, while the others helped with my luggage.

“Do not bring her things inside,” my stepfather, Albert Moretti, yelled as he walked down the stairs.

Before I could speak, he struck me across the face.

“Slut,” he spat.

“How dare you show your face here?” he yelled.

He dragged me into his study and slammed a document on the table.

“Sign it.”

It was a share transfer document.

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he demanded.

“Do you know how many calls I’ve had to answer because of you?”

He paused, then exhaled slowly.

“I have spent years protecting this family. Protecting your mother’s company,” he said, lowering his voice. “And now it’s all falling because of you.”

My chest tightened.

“If this continues,” he said quietly, “your mother’s company will collapse. Everything she built will be gone.”

“And surrendering the shares I’m supposed to inherit will stop that?” I asked.

He slid the document closer to me.

“We distance the company from you,” he said gently. “Temporarily.”

My fingers curled into my palm.

“This is the only option left.”

He leaned forward. “You can walk away, Isabella. Or you can save your mother’s legacy.”

I bit my lip in frustration. With shaking hands, I took the pen from him and signed.

The moment I placed the pen down, he reached for the document.

He nodded.

“Good,” he said flatly.

He pressed a button on his desk.

“Security, she’s done here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re no longer part of this family,” he said. “And you’re not welcome in this house.”

Two guards stepped in.

I took a step back. “You said this would protect the company.”

“And it will,” he replied. “But you? You’re a liability.”

“Get her out,” Albert said. “And make sure she doesn’t come back.”

I was dragged out. No matter how hard I knocked, the door stayed shut.

It began to rain, and I headed into the city.

Rain soaked through my clothes as I walked with nothing left.

No job. No home. No name.

I had lost everything.