Semua Bab Married to the billionaire by contract : Bab 1 - Bab 10

“El, they called to say the surgery’s been canceled,” she said, the words slick and impossible. She heard her own voice and for a second it sounded like someone else’s in a room full of glass. “They said unless the full payment’s made, they can’t— they can’t schedule him.”Ethan’s face drained. For a breath, the room was only the two of them and the sound of their separate breaths. “That can’t—” he began, and stopped, because he knew just like she did how the world could close with one phrase.Elena stood up abruptly, the chair scraping, the small sound tearing the quiet. “I’ll call them back,” she said, going to the phone like to a thing she could fix with a tool. She dialed and held the line against the tightness in her throat, the diner’s night still in her bones.“Billing department, this is Carla—” a tired voice answered, and for a second Elena wanted to cry from the rawness in that greeting, because it sounded like another person her age who had learned how the world expected he

Elena stumbled back as if the marble floor had shifted beneath her; the world had narrowed to the gray of his eyes and the sound of her own breath. “I’m—” she began, cheeks burning as rain dotted her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I just—”“You bumped into me,” Damian Kingstone said, his voice even and quiet, almost conversational, but with the kind of control that made other people’s words feel like small, thin things. He inclined his head once, not unkindly. “Are you all right?”Elena forced a laugh that sounded far too loud in the still lobby. “I—yes. I’m fine.” She wiped her palms on her coat as if to erase the tremor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see— I mean, I was… I’m—”“You look like someone who’s been running,” he observed, eyes taking in the threadbare edge of her coat, the damp hair escaping her knot, the way she clutched her bag like it contained all the things she couldn’t afford to lose.Heat rose in Elena’s neck. She met his gaze squarely because she had no other o

Elena woke with the taste of rubber and fear at the back of her throat. The morning light had a thin, urgent edge, and the apartment felt too small for the weight of the choice pressing down on her. She sat on the edge of the couch and looked at Ethan, asleep with one arm tossed over his eyes, the chest rise steady for the moment. The thought of surgeons, operating rooms, and waiting lists looped through her head like a reel she couldn’t stop.She dressed in the same coat she’d worn the night before, fingers moving on autopilot, and left a note on the kitchen table for Ethan—be brave, I’ll be back soon—then stepped into the elevator with a stomach full of stones. The city was a moving blur. Every adult face she passed on the sidewalk looked like a person who had never been forced to choose between dignity and a life-saving operation.At the hospital, the receptionist gave her a sympathetic look, and the social worker she’d talked to the night before tried to find options but came up e

Elena’s hands trembled as she smoothed the paper on the polished mahogany desk. The room smelled faintly of lemon polish and old leather. Light spilled across the page, making the typed words look even more formal than they already were—terms, clauses, stipulations that sounded like sentences written for other people’s lives. Her pen felt heavy between her fingers, as if it understood how important this stroke would be.“Ms. Carter,” Damian said, voice even and calm, the kind of voice that had no tremor even when the stakes were personal. He sat across from her, his back straight, hands folded. His coily hair was neat, and the gray of his eyes was an unblinking measurement. “I need to ensure you understand every clause. This is not something we take lightly.”She looked at him and saw the man everyone whispered about—precise, efficient, built from rules. Behind the steel there was curiosity tonight, like he was studying a specimen. Elena cleared her throat. “I read it,” she said. “But

The chapel was smaller than Elena had imagined, which only made the silence feel larger. Sunlight poured through the high windows in thin, golden bars that fell across the aisle and made dust look like confetti. Chairs were arranged in neat rows; the few guests were calm and murmuring but watched with attentive eyes. Elena felt like she was walking through a painting where everything had been chosen for discretion.She kept her hands clasped around the bouquet like it was the only real thing she owned. The flowers were white, simple—lilies and small roses tied with a ribbon that matched the green of her dress. The ribbon felt like a sash between two worlds. Her pulse was a drum she could not silence.“Mrs. Kingstone,” Hannah said softly beside her, voice practiced to be steady and small. She had fussed with Elena’s hair earlier, making sure not a curl threatened the neatness of the chignon. “Whenever you’re ready.”Elena nodded. Her legs moved because she had to move. Each step clicke