บททั้งหมดของ My contract marriage to the moviestar billionaire: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

*Nina*The car pulls smoothly out from the studio. Elijah’s hand, still in mine, feels tense, even though the initial tremor has subsided. He looks utterly drained, the shadows under his eyes deepening with every passing moment, but a glimmer of something akin to triumph is replacing the familiar anxiety.He doesn't speak, and neither do I. Words seem almost irrelevant, too small to contain the enormity of what we’ve just experienced. But I see it in his eyes… the raw relief, the bone-deep exhaustion, and a quiet, hard-won victory.He leans back against the leather of the car seat, his gaze lost somewhere in the darkening landscape beyond the windows. I follow suit, his hand remains in mine, a comforting weight."You were amazing," I whisper, the words catching in my throat. "Absolutely incredible. Leslie sent her congratulations too, by the way. Said you were brilliant. She had to run, a boob emergency."He manages a weak smile, a sigh escaping his lips. "It felt… unreal. Like watchi

*Nina*The gun presses to my temple, is like a cold, metallic weight against my skin, feeling almost like it is branding me, at least mentally. Gaffey's grip on my arm is surprisingly strong, her fingers digging into my flesh. The world narrows to the chilling glint of the gun barrel and the manic gleam in her eyes. I have no doubt she has completely lost it.She drags me through the villa, her footsteps echoing unnervingly in the sudden silence. The scent of chamomile, once a calming presence, now feels mockingly peaceful in the face of what feels like my impending doom.Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow cast by the lamps, seems to heighten my terror. My mind races, desperately searching for an escape route, a loophole, anything. But there is nothing. Each step closer to the car she has no doubt waiting outside, feels like a step closer to the end. The polished marble floor feels cold and unforgiving beneath my bare feet, a stark contrast to the burning anger that washes o

*Nina*Time freezes, suspended in a moment of sheer horror. The gunshot rings out, echoing through the air like a death knell. My heart drops as I see Elijah's body jerk in response, and I can't comprehend what just happened.“Elijah!” I scream, but the sound is swallowed by the lump in my throat. My legs feel like lead, but I force them to move, sprinting toward the open door, desperate to reach him. Panic grips me, twisting my insides. What if she shot him?But as I get closer, I see her… Gaffe.. crumpling to the floor, the gun slipping from her fingers. My breath catches in my throat as realization dawns. It wasn't Elijah who was shot. It was Gaffey. Gaffey, who had wanted to take everything from us, had turned the gun on herself.“Elijah!” I shout again, and this time, my voice cuts through the fog of fear. I rush over to him and wrap my arms around him. He is blinking, like he is trying to understand that he was not the one who got shot..“Are you okay?” I ask, breathless, my han

*Elijah*Panic seeps into my veins, coursing through me like ice water. I pull Nina down beside me, the weight of her body pressing against my side grounding me amidst the chaos erupting around us. The sound of frantic whispers and footsteps scrambling for safety fills the air, but all I can focus on is Silas… his menacing figure cutting through the crowd like a dark shadow.“Silas! Stop!” I shout, my voice breaking through the pandemonium. “You don’t have to do this!”He turns toward me, eyes blazing with a manic intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “Shut up, Elijah!” he roars, each word dripping with contempt. “You’re just a good-for-nothing whore, hiding behind your pretty little girlfriend! They need to hear my side of the story!”I feel Nina's grip tighten on my arm, a mixture of fear and determination etched across her face. “Elijah, please… we need to get out of here,” she urges, but I can’t move. I have to confront him. I have to protect her.“Silas, listen to me!” I p

6 years later*Nina*As I step into our home, the familiar scent of home-cooked dinner embraces me like a warm hug. The sound of laughter drifts from the living room, a sweet symphony of joy that brings a smile to my face. I kick off my shoes and close the door behind me, feeling the weight of the day slip away as I navigate the cozy space we’ve built together.“Mommy!” The excited squeals of my children fill the air as they come rushing toward me. Aiden, our five-year-old, launches himself into my arms, while little Mia, who’s just three, clings to my leg. I laugh, lifting Aiden high above my head, his giggles ringing like music in my ears.“Whoa there, superhero!” I say, pretending to struggle as I twirl him around. “What adventures have you been up to today?”“We built a fort!” he shouts, eyes sparkling with pride. “And we fought off the dragons.”Mia nods vigorously, her curly hair bouncing with each enthusiastic movement. “And we saved the princess,” she adds, her tiny hands maki