All Chapters of CONTRACT BRIDE FOR THE DEVIL: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The penthouse felt heavier lately.Not because Andrew was around—he wasn’t. He’d left early that morning for a meeting, saying little more than a distracted “Don’t wait up.” The silence that followed wasn’t unfamiliar, but this time it carried weight. Claire’s warning still haunted me like a shadow in the hallway. I couldn’t shake it off. “You’re not the target. You’re collateral.” Her words had burrowed deep. I pulled my robe tighter around myself and wandered into the living room. My muscles ached slightly from this morning’s session at the gym, but I liked the ache now. It meant I was in control of something. My body. My choices. I’d come a long way from the soft, insecure girl who used to hide behind oversized sweaters and long sleeves. Now, even if I didn’t flaunt it, I felt stronger—firmer in my skin. Still, I found myself curled up in the oversized couch, wrapped in one of Andrew’s shirts. Claire had given it to me a week ago, tossing it over after I complained about the n

Maria’s POV She stared at the flash drive. It was just a small thing silver, unmarked, and sitting innocently near the edge of the counter. But it hadn’t been there before. Not that close. She remembered dropping it further back, almost by accident, after pulling it from the umbrella Susan had left behind. At the time, she hadn’t even known what to make of it. Was it forgotten? Planted? Important? She’d meant to ask someone Andrew maybe. But then everything else had happened. The night blurred into tea, loneliness, and now… him. She reached toward the drive, fingers brushing the cool metal, when “Maria.” Her breath hitched. His voice came from right behind her, low and close. She hadn’t heard him move. She turned slightly, startled, her hand still halfway to the drive. “I....I was just" But whatever excuse she’d planned to give died in her throat the second she looked up. Andrew was closer than she’d realized. Barely a breath between them. His gaze flicked to the fl

Andrew’s POV I should have walked away. I should have taken one last look at her flushed face, memorized the way her lips parted after the kiss, and turned the hell around. But I didn’t. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, like a man who had just tasted something dangerous and still wanted more. My hand was still warm from touching her waist, and my mouth… damn it. I could still feel the imprint of hers on mine. And none of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t part of the plan. Maria wasn’t supposed to matter. She was supposed to be the quiet, agreeable girl I’d make a deal with. She’d stay out of the way, play the fiancée in front of cameras, and fade into the background when the doors closed. Not this. Not stealing my focus. Not taking over my thoughts. Not making me forget why I made the contract in the first place. And definitely not making me feel something as stupid and terrifying as… longing. I stood by the window in my study now, jacket off, shirt

Andrew closed the door to his home office, the soft click echoing louder than he intended. He stood there for a moment, back pressed to the wood, eyes narrowing at the neat desk in front of him. His breakfast with Maria had been… unsettling. Too normal. Too warm. He had caught himself watching her smile, listening to her laugh, and for the first time in years, he had almost felt at peace. Almost. And that was the problem. Peace was dangerous. Peace made you let your guard down. And Andrew Walker knew better than anyone what happened when you trusted too easily. He moved to his desk, his gaze falling immediately to the small black flash drive lying on the edge, exactly where he had tossed it the night before. He had meant to look at it then, but Maria’s presence had distracted him. Now, though, he was alone. No excuses. He sat, pushing his chair back, and slid the flash drive into the port of his laptop. The screen lit up, a folder appearing instantly. One file sat inside. No nam

Maria’s POV The notification on Maria’s phone buzzed, pulling her from the silence of the living room. She reached for it absentmindedly, expecting another work update or perhaps one of Susan’s lighthearted messages. Instead, her chest tightened when she opened the picture. It was Andrew. Sitting across from Matthew Farrow at an elegant table, a glass of wine in his hand. The caption from Susan read: “Why aren’t you there with your husband?” Maria’s heart dropped. She stared at the photo, her throat going dry. Andrew hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting Farrow today. Not once. This morning had been quiet, almost too quiet just breakfast, him buried in his phone, and then he disappeared into his home office. By the time she checked again, he was gone. No word, no explanation. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she read the message again. “Why aren’t you there with your husband?” The word husband made her stomach twist. She should be used to it by now, used to pretending. This