Semua Bab A Deal with Mr. Billionaire: Bab 1 - Bab 5

Chloe’s Point of ViewA month had passed since I signed my life away to Jonathan Wells. Days bled into the next, a continuous circle of obligation and playacting. The original shock that our agreement had created faded out, leaving a cold, grey indifference in its wake. Even the most spurious display of civility now felt akin to a laborious task. My role was more defined now, the sacrifices I made were clearer, and the thought of it weighed upon me like a heavy, crushing burden. Every day, I did the tightrope balancing act between my own discomfort and keeping up the illusion of a perfect marriage, while the true cost of my decisions did not exactly dwell in the farther reaches of my cognition.I stood in the master bedroom of our penthouse, staring out the window at the city lights extending below me. It was a spectacular view, yet I just couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. The lavishness, the overindulgence-it was all so hollow. Cold. Just like him.Jonathan. My husband in name only.

Chloe’s Point of ViewI sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the faint purple bruise that marred the skin of my arm. The imprint of Jonathan’s anger. I had been holding it together all night, keeping the tears at bay, but now that I was alone, the weight of everything pressed down on me all at once.I gingerly trailed my fingers over the bruise, and a surge of emotion welled up inside that I couldn’t quite control-anger, sadness, frustration. How did I get here? How does one’s life spiral down to such a vain marriage replete with freezing words and unexpressed pains?A tear rolled down my cheek and another until I couldn’t stop them. I buried my face in my hands, crying silently, ashamed that I’d let him get to me this way. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. This was all supposed to be transactional, a means to an end. Yet, it was impossible to keep my walls up as the reality of our situation chipped away at them day in, day out.The door creaked open, and I hastily wiped m

Jonathan’s Point of ViewMonths had passed, and I still hadn’t found a suitable wife. The clock was ticking, but it wasn’t desperation that gnawed at me. It was frustration. I had vetted many women-most beautiful, smart, and driven. But none of them were right. They all shared something in common: they wanted more from me than I was willing to give.Marriage. A real one. They wanted love, affection, connection. Things I didn’t have the time or desire for. I wasn’t a man built for love. I was built for power, control. And I’d be damned if I let my father’s last wish strip that away from me.Instead, I had passed my nights with brief distractions: women who knew the deal-no strings, no emotions. Just temporary pleasure. But each morning, I woke up to the same problem staring me in the face: this deadline looming over my head, the board hovering and waiting for any sign of weakness. I needed a solution, and fast.I leaned back in my office chair, staring out at the city skyline. My refle