Semua Bab My Contract Husband Is The Enemy: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Aliya’s POV “The Truth.” I stared at those two words, reading them over and over again. My fingers hovered above the page, trembling with hesitation. Just as I was about to keep reading, a familiar voice came through the receiver—sharp, female, and so unmistakable that it made my entire body tense. “There’s a reason why things happen the way they do, Aliya. But the biggest one… is that you were born a Van Alen.” I froze and my heart dropped. I knew that voice. I could never mistake it—not in a million years. “Hello?” I yanked the phone closer to my mouth, yelling into the receiver. “Hello?!” But the line had already gone dead. “No. No, it can’t be what I’m thinking. It’s impossible.” I dropped the phone like it had scorched my skin, a bitter, shaky laugh tumbling out of my throat. My chest felt tight—like something heavy had just been placed on it. Trying to compose myself, I turned my attention back to the sheet of paper I was holding. My eyes landed again on the

Aliya’s POV What do you call a woman who has been betrayed by everyone she’s ever loved? Whatever the name is, then that is what I was, unfortunately. I returned back to the house exactly at midnight, and he was gone. The man I thought and hoped I’d spend my entire life with was gone. As I walked into my bedroom, it felt empty. Although filled with furniture and other stuff, it still felt empty. Somehow, I had hoped he’d disobey me and not leave—but he did, and now I was glad he did. It was for the best. He lied to me numerous times, played me for a fool, used me like I was worth nothing to him. I was just a pawn in his silly revenge game, and now I knew better. Letting out a deep sigh, I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor like discarded memories. I walked into the bathroom, my bare feet soundless against the cold tile. I paused in front of the mirror, staring at the naked woman reflected back at me. Hollow eyes. Bruised soul. I stepped into the tub,

Liam’s POVThe last time I was able to stand on my own was three months ago—just before Aliya discovered the truth and cast me out of her life.I had walked out of her house, and from that moment on, my existence had been nothing but pain. A blur of sterile hospital rooms, relentless treatment, and therapy sessions that, frankly, weren’t doing a damn thing for me.The doctor called me a fighter. Said I had a will stronger than most—clinging to life no matter what fresh hell my body threw at me. He told me to let go of the past, especially Aliya, and focus on healing. But I couldn’t. Not for a second.Not a day passed without her haunting my thoughts. I’d drive to her gate, park discreetly, and sit in the shadows, watching. I kept my eyes on her bedroom window, observing when the lights flicked on, when they dimmed again. I lingered in the dark like a ghost, ensuring nothing and no one could harm her. I knew she wasn’t ready to face me. So I gave her space—even if every minute without

Aliya’s POV “Where are you? You’ve got to see this,” Wellington’s voice came through, urgent but measured. “I’ll be there in five,” I replied, ending the call and tossing my phone onto the passenger seat without hesitation. This morning, I had woken up with a smile stretching across my face and a detailed plan already set in motion. Tonight’s Christmas Gala was supposed to mark the start of everything I had carefully prepared for. But before any champagne toasts or fake smiles, I needed to visit Camille’s grandmother. The evidence she possessed could go a long way in finally putting that monster Vinichi behind bars. But as I approached the location, the grin that had clung to my lips slowly began to disappear. The entire area was flooded with police officers. Sirens wailed in the distance. A sea of flashing red and blue lights danced across the walls of a tiny house, which was now surrounded by yellow Do Not Cross tape fluttering in the cold December breeze. I slammed

Aliya’s POV I had spent hours looking my absolute best. My long brunette hair flowed down my shoulders like silk, my lips were painted in a killer red that could stop traffic, my lashes curled to perfection, and the red silk gown I wore tied everything together like a ribbon on a lethal gift. This wasn’t just another evening, and it damn sure wasn’t just another dinner. My fingers clenched around my phone as I sat in the backseat of the car, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for a response from the number that had texted me yesterday at the party. I had texted back almost immediately, giving a location and time for the next day—but still nothing. Weirdly, I hadn’t told anyone about this meeting. Not Wellington, not anyone. I wasn’t about to risk having someone else get killed over information that could finally give me the answers I needed. Not again. The hum of the engine buzzed softly in my ears as the car began to slow. I looked up, and there it was—the same mansion