Все главы My Contract Husband Is The Enemy: Глава 51 - Глава 60

Liam’s POVWalking in on your ex-girlfriend hand in hand with your present girlfriend is something you might see in your everyday life—but walking in on your ex-girlfriend, who knows everything about you, standing with your present girlfriend? That feels like the end of a game.“Monica?” I murmured, trying to mask my shock, but it was futile and Aliya noticed instantly.“Liam?” Aliya chuckled. “No, this is Nick, my husband.”“Excuse me, do you two know each other?” she asked, breaking the long, awkward staring contest I was having with Monica.“Uh… Aliya, this is Liam—my ex-boyfriend,” Monica said, turning to Aliya whose smile began to falter.“Ex-boyfriend from way back,” I added quickly, trying to lighten the tension.“Why is she calling you Nick?” Monica questioned, her eyes narrowing as Aliya looked at me for what felt like the fiftieth time today.“That’s because Nick is my actual name,” I said with a forced chuckle, not even sure what I was saying or how I’d explain it later.I

Aliya’s POVSo Monica and Nick, huh? Didn’t see that coming.I got into my car and drove home after the long day at the shop, which I was certain I wouldn’t be stepping foot in for a while.Nick had left for his secret adventures with Posh, as usual, and all I could do was nod without complaint. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t trust me enough to let me into his world. I mean, take a look at how I found out my old friend used to be his girlfriend.There was this strange feeling I had when I saw the way they looked at each other. Was it jealousy? Or fear—fear that they hadn’t told me the whole truth about their past.I pulled over and stepped into the house, ready to unwind and melt into the warm blankets waiting on my bed. But my stomach had other plans—I hadn’t eaten anything all day.After a soothing bath, I made my way to the kitchen. Soft jazz drifted through the speakers as I played around with the knives and vegetables.“Might as well make something for Nick, since he always doe

Liam’s POVThe room smelled of antiseptics and bad news.I sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the thin gown loose against my frame, eyes cast down, and my heart spiraling with each passing second as I waited for the results of my test.This wasn’t what I had planned for today, nor was it where I thought I would be, but here I was, waiting for the results of something I already knew the answer to.The door to the doctor’s office creaked open, and he stepped in. A paper in one hand, a stethoscope hanging from his neck, a lab coat as white as snow, and an expression that couldn’t quite hide itself.He took a seat opposite me, removing his glasses before speaking. “Mr. Liam, the results are in.”I straightened up, looking him in the eye. “And?”Dr. Ken cleared his throat, his eyes darting between me and the paper in his hands. “It’s positive. The tumor has returned. It’s smaller, but this time it’s more severe than the last.”My heart sank the moment he uttered the word positive. I knew

Aliya’s POVCuriosity overwhelmed me as I twirled in my seat. Documents lay before me awaiting my signature, but all I could do was fidget—waiting for Nala like my life depended on it. Suddenly, a knock came at the door, jolting me. “Hi, ma’am.” My other assistant who had filled in for Brooke, walked in with a practiced smile. For some reason, Brooke hadn’t come to work for two days now, and I couldn’t reach her either. I had this nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong, though I couldn’t quite place what. “A certain Miss Nala is here to—” “Send her in.” I cut her off quickly, startling her for a brief moment. With a nod, she exited, and seconds later the door opened again, revealing Nala. She offered a faint smile, standing just at the entrance. “Never thought I’d be this eager to talk to you, sis.” “Neither did I,” I replied. “Please, come in.” Nala moved with poise—like the queen she had always forced herself into becoming. Her red heels clicked acros

Aliya’s POV A week had passed since Nala planted that seed in my head, and sleep had evaded me ever since. Every time I tried to get some shut-eye, I had the same dream. My dad is in a red suit, black horns pointing out of his forehead, a trident in his hands, and a demonic smirk plastered on his face. Five minutes into the dream, I find myself strapped to a chair. On my left is my mum, also bound, tears streaming down her beautiful face. I yell and call out to her, but before she can understand and turn her head in my direction, she’s stabbed in the heart by Vinichi—by my dad. I always wake up drenched in sweat, to Nick’s worried face and a glass of water in his hands. The dream—no, the nightmare—always leaves me with one thing: that satisfied smirk on Vinichi’s face. It’s burned into my memory, and every effort to think of something else becomes futile. Nick constantly bombards me with questions about what’s been going on, but what can I tell him, huh? That I have nigh