Lahat ng Kabanata ng Contractual Marriage With My Arrogant Boss : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The club roared with music that night, the kind of bass that rattled bones and blurred judgment. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, fractured light scattering across the dance floor where bodies writhed together. Cameras weren’t allowed inside, but Clara had made sure exceptions would be made. She had called certain paparazzi in advance, slipping them passes under the guise of “exclusive coverage.”Damian arrived looking uncomfortable, his broad shoulders stiff beneath the tailored suit. He wasn’t a man who liked noise or spectacle. But Clara knew how to trap him—she offered him a drink, leaning close so her perfume clouded his thoughts, whispering encouragement.“Relax, Damian,” she purred, brushing her lips near his ear. “They want to see that you’re enjoying yourself. That you’re happy… with me.”He downed the drink in silence, unaware of the small something Clara had instructed the bartender to slip in. Nothing too strong—just enough to dull edges, make his reactions sl

Meanwhile, at Damian’s family estate, Clara was seated comfortably beside Damian’s mother, playing her part to perfection. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, her voice trembling just right as she said, “I’m just worried about Damian. He’s… distracted lately. And that girl, Emery… I don’t think she understands him. She’s too weak, too simple for someone like him.”Damian’s mother, regal and sharp-eyed, nodded with approval. “You’ve always understood our family, Clara. I see the way you carry yourself. You’re poised. Proper. Not… fragile.”Clara lowered her gaze demurely. “I only want what’s best for him. I know how much this family’s legacy matters. I’d never stand in the way of that.”Damian’s mother reached over, squeezing Clara’s hand warmly. “You’ll make a fine wife for him.”Damian stood a few feet away, hearing their words but saying nothing. Something inside him flickered—guilt, doubt, maybe even anger—but he crushed it down, refusing to confront it. It was easier

..“Yes, sir. They took their belongings. They didn’t… they didn’t say where they were going.”The jacket slipped from his hands before the maid caught it. Damian’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening as he strode past her into the living room. Empty. Emery’s favorite blanket was gone from the couch. Blake’s football was no longer under the table. Even the faint scent of her perfume — that lingering trace that used to tease him when she passed — was absent.For a moment, he felt something collapse inside his chest.Then he shut it down. Cold. Controlled.“Get Ivan,” he ordered, voice clipped. “Now.”..Minutes later, his head bodyguard, Ivan, appeared. Damian didn’t waste time.“Find her. I don’t care how long it takes, I want Emery, Ethan, and her mother located.”Ivan nodded. “Yes, sir.”Within hours, his men were spread out across the city, checking stations, airports, hospitals, hotels. Damian worked late into the night, but his phone buzzed constantly with updates. Each one

Clara’s eyes followed him as the door slammed. For a moment, her mask slipped—her lips twisted into a smile of triumph. He was still fighting her, but she had won a piece of ground last night. She had something she could use.And she would.Later that morning, Clara sat in the vast parlor of Damian’s family mansion, sipping tea with Damian’s mother. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes brimming.“I shouldn’t even be saying this,” Clara whispered, lowering her gaze. “But Damian… he let me in. After months of shutting me out, he finally… he finally needed me.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “We spent the night together. I love him so much, Mrs. Knight. And I think—no, I know—he’s starting to see I’m the one who belongs by his side.”Damian’s mother beamed, clasping Clara’s hand. “Finally. Finally, he’s come to his senses. I always told him, you are the perfect choice. Emery was… a phase. But you—my dear, you’re stability. You’re family. I’ll make sure he doesn’t stray

The morning was unusually heavy, the kind that pressed itself against Emery’s chest and refused to let her breathe freely. She sat on the edge of her bed, one hand pressed against her temple, the other wrapped around her middle as another wave of nausea passed through her. It had been weeks of this—weakness, dizziness, the constant sickness at odd hours of the day and every time, she had insisted it was just a fever, or maybe exhaustion. Nothing serious. Nothing worth worrying about.But her mother, who had been watching her daughter closely, knew better. A fever did not linger this long. Exhaustion did not make her faint in the middle of the kitchen yesterday.“Emery,” her mother’s firm voice called from the doorway, soft yet unyielding. “Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.”Emery lifted her head, her eyes wide with alarm. “Hospital? No, Mama, it’s not necessary. I just need rest. That’s all.”Her mother stepped inside, her brows furrowed, her hands on her hips. “Rest? Emery, f