The Billionaire's Contract Wife 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 161 - 챕터 170

The knock came just after dawn.It was soft. Polite. The kind that didn’t demand attention—but somehow commanded it anyway.Grace stirred first.She blinked against the pale light filtering through the curtains, her body still warm from sleep, Jordan’s arm heavy around her waist. For one fragile second, she thought it might be part of a dream—another false alarm born from too many months of fear.Then the knock came again.Three measured taps.Jordan was awake instantly.Grace felt the shift in him—the way his breathing changed, the way his body went still beneath her hand. Not tense. Not panicked. Just… alert.“I’ve got it,” he murmured.She caught his wrist. “Jordan.”He looked down at her, expression calm but guarded. “Stay here.”“I’m not hiding anymore,” she said quietly.That made him pause.After everything they’d survived—after choosing light over shadows—he nodded once. “Then stay behind me.”The hallway felt longer than usual as they approached the door. The penthouse was si

The silence in the car wasn’t heavy this time.It was reflective—like the quiet that follows a storm once the damage has been counted and survived.Grace rested her head against the window, watching the city lights blur past. Jordan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely between them, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him without being held.For the first time since she’d known him, his shoulders weren’t tense.Not guarded.Just… present.“You didn’t look back,” Grace said softly.Jordan glanced at her. “I didn’t need to.”That alone told her how much had changed.They reached home without speaking again. Inside, the lights felt warmer than usual. Familiar. Safe. As if the walls had been waiting for them to return lighter than they’d left.Jordan set the keys down and stood still in the living room.Grace watched him carefully.“What are you thinking?” she asked.He took a moment before answering. “That I don’t know who I am without all the fear.”She

The weeks that followed didn’t come with fireworks or dramatic declarations.They came with adjustment.Grace learned that healing wasn’t loud—it was quiet mornings, small compromises, and moments where old instincts surfaced only to be gently corrected. Jordan learned that staying didn’t mean standing still; it meant moving forward without running.They began with structure.Not rules—agreements.Sunday mornings became theirs. No calls. No work. No distractions. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they sat side by side with books they never finished reading.Jordan stopped working late without explanation. When he felt the pull to withdraw, he named it.“I’m overwhelmed,” he said one night, standing in the doorway instead of disappearing into his office.Grace looked up from the couch. “Do you want space or company?”He considered it—really considered it. “Company. Quiet company.”She patted the space beside her.That night, he rested his head on her shoulder like

The decision didn’t arrive with certainty wrapped in courage.It came on an ordinary afternoon, dressed like routine.Grace was at the dining table, papers spread out in neat, careful stacks—work she’d postponed too many times because life had demanded louder priorities. The sunlight slanted through the windows, warming the wood beneath her palms. Outside, traffic hummed. Somewhere down the street, a dog barked once and stopped.Normal life, continuing.Jordan stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, rinsing a mug that didn’t really need washing. He paused there longer than necessary, staring at the water swirling down the drain as if it carried something important with it.Grace noticed before he spoke. She always did.“You’re circling something,” she said gently, not looking up.Jordan turned off the tap. “Am I that obvious?”“Only to me.”He dried his hands slowly, then leaned against the counter. No tension in his posture. No urgency. Just thoughtfulness.“I got a call this mornin

The weekend stretched ahead like a blank page, quiet and full of possibility. Grace woke first, sunlight spilling over the bedspread in soft waves. Jordan was still asleep, face relaxed in the rare abandon of unguarded sleep. She watched him for a moment, memorizing the subtle lines of his jaw, the way his fingers rested across the sheets.It wasn’t dramatic. There were no life-altering confessions or urgent crises waiting for them. Just the slow, steady rhythm of a shared life.Grace slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Coffee beans ground beneath her fingertips, the familiar scent filling the space between her and Jordan’s sleeping form. She brewed the pot slowly, savoring the sound of the drip, the quiet ritual.Jordan appeared a few minutes later, hair tousled, shirt half-buttoned, carrying that sleepy smile that had once made her nervous.“Morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind.“Morning,” she replied, leaning back into him. “Coffee’s ready.”“Be