All Chapters of Married to the billionaire by contract : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Elena stood outside Damian’s office door with her heart in her throat and a thin stack of folders trembling in her hands. The hallway smelled faintly of lemon and polished wood; the quiet of the corporate wing felt like a held breath. Hannah had given her a quick nod before she walked in—steadying, professional, the look that said, You can do this.“Are you ready?” Hannah asked one last time, voice low and practical.“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Elena answered, smoothing her skirt with hands that didn’t entirely obey. She imagined Ethan’s laugh—how he used to make faces at her sketches—and it lent her a small, fierce courage.Damian’s office was large and spare in the way the rest of his life seemed to be: a few personal things placed with the same care he used in business. The desk was wide and clear; a single framed photograph of a woman and a child sat in the corner, small and worn. Elena noticed it immediately; the image made the room feel less like a boardroom and more like a plac

Damian had meant to keep the visit short—an administrative glance, a signature, a face-to-face that showed the trustees he was present and competent. The hospital smelled like antiseptic and coffee, the sterile air a sharp contrast to the polished floors of his office. He moved through the corridor with the same purposeful pace he took into negotiation rooms, briefcase in hand, eyes on the directory. Hannah had arranged the meeting with the hospital administrator as a courtesy; the paperwork for Ethan’s authorizations needed a witness and his signature to speed processing. It was business, efficient and neat.He paused outside a family room because the door was open and a small sound drifted out—a laugh, soft and bright, the kind of sound that was almost criminal to hear in a place built for worrying. He could have turned away. He could have walked on to the meeting he’d scheduled. Instead he hung back in the doorway and watched, because the laugh belonged to someone he had learned to

The penthouse felt smaller in the way that made it safe—blankets draped over the sofa, the low glow of a lamp, rain ticking a steady, familiar rhythm against the glass. Elena curled her fingers around a warm mug and let the steam fog her glasses for a second, watching the city smear into watercolor beyond the window. The day had been a blur of trustees and hospital forms and rehearsals, and she was tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.Damian moved around the room with the easy confidence she’d begun to know—a practiced gait that somehow softened when he laughed with her or when he watched Ethan joke on a hospital video call. Tonight he wore an old sweater, the sleeves pushed back to his forearms, and there was a loosened quality about him that he rarely afforded in public. The scar at his temple caught the lamp light; his jaw relaxed in a way that made him look less like a CEO and more like a man who’d survived things and was learning, slowly, to breathe.“You shouldn’t b

The intercom’s second buzz had a different weight to it this time—less procedural, more like the sound that rings when a courtroom door opens. Elena’s hands had been folded around a mug that had long gone cold; the cup left a faint ring on the coffee table where she set it down and ran her thumb along the rim until the ceramic felt warm beneath her skin again. Damian stood beside her, a silent, steady presence; his jaw was set, that particular line of concentration she recognized whenever numbers or people threatened to unravel.“Here they come,” Hannah said from the doorway, voice steady as a metronome. She had smoothed her blouse and clipped a tablet to her wrist; the household’s rhythm took on a military precision now, each step practiced because practice was the way they defended themselves.The door opened and the registry representative stepped in first, carrying a leather satchel and an air of officialness that seemed to bend the room a degree colder. Behind her came two truste

“You know the drill,” Hannah said softly as she adjusted the papers on her tablet, voice quick and efficient. Her calm mattered; it steadied everyone in the room. She had that reliable, boxed-up competence—the kind that made Elena feel like there was a human firewall around all the chaos.“I’m ready,” Elena answered, throat tight but steady. Her fingers curled around a pen. She felt small and huge at once: small because a room full of men and women in suits could make anyone feel that way, huge because Ethan’s life depended on what she said next.Damian stood behind her, a silhouette of quiet control. He had that CEO posture—straight back, hands clasped lightly—but tonight his eyes were softer. He carried the exhaustion of the last days in the small slump of his shoulders, and that made him, in Elena’s head, more human than any headline would ever show.The council liaison, Mr. Brecht, watched everyone with neutral authority. He had a ledger of questions and a quiet way of making peop