Semua Bab The billionaire’s contracted wife: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Two days passed in calm silence—at least on the surface. Lena kept herself busy with fittings, sketching, and meetings with Kenny and Abigail. She smiled, nodded, and laughed when necessary, but a small knot sat at the base of her stomach.Vanessa was back.And still, there was no sign of her.No calls. No social visits. Just whispers, suggestions, and the growing anxiety that this was the calm before a very elegant storm.That morning, Lena received a cream-colored envelope sealed in wax with a gold emblem.It came with no return address.The handwriting on the front was neat and graceful.Lena Wellington-O’ConnellShe opened it slowly. The envelope smelled faintly of roses.Inside was an invitation.The Malloy Foundation Charity BallHosted by: Vanessa MalloyVenue: The Crown Hall, 8:00 PM SaturdayDress Code: Formal Black & GoldAt the bottom, scrawled in gold ink:"I do hope you’ll come. It’s been far too long since we’ve had the chance to talk — woman to woman."Lena stared at the c

Carson and Lena wasted no time. By the following morning, personalized invitations were drafted and sent to the key board members of O’Connell Enterprises. The message was clear: an exclusive roundtable, hosted at the estate, to discuss the future of the company and reaffirm their vision. No press. No PR teams. Just truth and transparency.Lena had the dining hall transformed into an elegant but warm space. Rich oak wood panels were polished, soft amber lights glowed overhead, and the long table was lined with fresh white orchids. At one end of the room, a display featured the progress of the O’Connell-Wellington Foundation, along with testimonies and artwork from early recipients.“This isn’t just about image,” Lena said to the staff. “It’s about legacy. We’re not selling them anything—we’re inviting them into something real.”The first guests arrived promptly. Mr. Wallace, Mrs. Renner, Mr. Beecham—trusted names who’d worked alongside Carson’s father. Then came the younger board memb

The following morning began with a thick fog settling over the estate, as though nature itself understood the gravity of what was to come. Lena stood on the balcony wrapped in her robe, coffee cooling in her hand. Her thoughts wandered back to the anonymous call from the night before—Vanessa’s voice echoing like a threat in a cathedral.Carson joined her, already dressed in a crisp navy suit. “We filed the fraud complaint,” he said. “Our lawyer sent everything to the DA’s office.”Lena nodded, eyes still on the fog. “Do you think she’ll strike back?”“She will,” Carson said. “But not the way we expect.”Later that morning, the estate’s front gates buzzed with a visitor. It was a deliveryman holding a single black envelope, sealed with a red wax insignia—Vanessa’s initials stylized in the shape of a crown.The note inside read:"Since you insist on waging war, let’s not pretend we’re civilized. I’ll see you on my terms. —V"Ruth arrived minutes later after receiving a screenshot from L

The day after Vanessa’s hearing, the air in the O’Connell estate felt lighter—not because the storm had passed, but because they had found shelter within it. Lena stood before a full-length mirror in her dressing room, adjusting the lapel of her cream blazer. She had a board meeting that morning—the first since Vanessa’s arrest.“Today’s not about victory laps,” she said aloud, mostly to herself. “It’s about planting flags in new soil.”Carson knocked once before entering, his tie already perfectly knotted. “You look ready.”“I feel ready,” she said. “But this time, I’m not going in just as your wife. I’m going in as a partner. An investor. A future leader.”He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, catching her reflection in the mirror. “That’s exactly what you are.”The boardroom in Manhattan buzzed with cautious optimism. Every member was present. Even the more traditional voices who had once side-eyed Lena’s involvement had read the headlines, watched the hearin

Two days after the press conference, the O’Connell estate was quiet again. The media had packed up, the headlines had slowed, and the world moved on to its next scandal.But inside Lena’s heart, something new had taken root—certainty.She stood on the balcony of her and Carson’s bedroom, arms resting on the cold railing, watching the city glitter in the distance. The world she had once feared now looked small from up here. Not because she had conquered it—but because she had outgrown her fear of it.Carson walked out behind her, slipping a hand around her waist. “Couldn’t sleep?”“I’m not tired,” she replied softly. “Just...thinking.”He pressed his chin to her shoulder. “Regret?”“No. Reflection.” She leaned into him. “I’ve been thinking about the girls who wrote to me. The ones Kenny showed me this morning on his tablet. From Cape Town. Manila. Lagos. Saying I gave them hope.”Carson smiled. “That’s impact.”“But I want it to last. Not just go viral and vanish like a trending topic.