All Chapters of THE VENGEFUL BRIDE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

‎Nathaniel Blackwood signed the marriage contract without looking at the woman sitting beside him.‎The pen moved smoothly across the paper. His name was firm, practiced, and emotionless. It was the same signature he had used on billion-dollar deals, hostile takeovers, and legal settlements. To him, this marriage belonged in the same category.‎A solution.‎Nothing more.‎The conference room on the top floor of Blackwood International was quiet and cold. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls revealed the city skyline outside, sharp and distant. Lawyers sat on both sides of the long table, their expressions neutral, their movements precise. Everything had been arranged carefully. There was no room for mistakes.‎Outside the room, reporters waited.‎By tomorrow morning, every major business headline would announce that Nathaniel Blackwood, the most powerful CEO in the city, had suddenly married a woman no one had heard of.‎What the headlines would not mention was the truth.‎That his company wa

The morning headlines appeared before Grace finished her tea.‎She sat at the long dining table, the cup warm between her palms. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic outside the gates.‎Nathaniel stood near the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone. His posture was relaxed, but Grace noticed the small change in his expression. His jaw tightened, just slightly.‎He turned the screen toward her without speaking.‎“Blackwood’s Sudden Marriage Raises Questions.”‎“Who Is the New Mrs. Blackwood?”‎“A Strategic Union or True Love?”‎Grace glanced at the screen briefly and then looked away. She returned her attention to her tea, as if the words held no weight.‎She had expected this.‎Attention was part of the arrangement. Public curiosity always followed men like Nathaniel Blackwood. She had agreed to stand beside him knowing this would come.‎Nathaniel watched her closely.‎“You don’t seem bothered,” he said.‎Grace took ano

‎Nathaniel noticed the change the next morning.‎It was subtle, the kind of shift most people would miss. Grace moved through the house with the same quiet elegance, her posture straight, her expression composed. Yet something about her presence felt more distant. Not withdrawn. Not cold. Just guarded, as if she had pulled a layer of herself inward.‎During breakfast, Nathaniel watched her over the rim of his coffee cup. She stirred her tea slowly, eyes unfocused, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.‎“You didn’t sleep well,” he said.‎Grace looked up, her gaze steady. “Neither did you.”‎He paused.‎She was right.‎He had been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying fragments of conversations, pieces of files he had skimmed through the night before. He had hoped she wouldn’t notice.‎The silence stretched between them.‎“I did some research last night,” Nathaniel said finally. “On Daniel Reed.”‎Grace did not react. Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face. She simply

‎The attention did not arrive loudly.‎It crept in.‎Grace noticed it first in the smallest ways. A pause when she entered a room. A glance held a second too long. Conversations that stopped and resumed carefully around her presence.‎She had lived this before.‎This time, she refused to let it shape her.‎At work, she focused on her tasks with quiet efficiency. She spoke when necessary. She listened more than she talked. Her calm made people uneasy. It always had.‎During a midmorning meeting, a senior partner asked her directly, “You’ve handled high-pressure cases before, haven’t you?”‎Grace met his gaze. “Yes.”‎“Legally or personally?” he asked, half joking.‎Grace smiled politely. “Both.”‎The room fell silent for a moment.‎The partner cleared his throat. “Good. We need that perspective.”‎After the meeting, a colleague walked beside her down the hallway. “You don’t explain yourself much.”‎“I explain my work,” Grace replied. “That’s usually enough.”‎The colleague nodded slowl

‎The building was quieter than Grace expected.‎No shouting. No chaos. Just controlled movement and hushed voices. The kind of place where decisions were made behind closed doors and consequences arrived later.‎Grace walked through security without hesitation.‎Nathaniel followed several steps behind her, as promised.‎They were led into a waiting area with plain walls and long benches. A few people were already seated. Lawyers. Officials. Observers who pretended neutrality but carried opinions in their posture.‎Grace sat down.‎Her hands rested calmly on her lap.‎Inside, her heart beat steadily. Not fast. Not slow. Just present.‎After several minutes, Daniel Reed entered.‎He avoided her eyes at first. When he finally looked at her, his expression held regret, but also fear. Fear of exposure. Fear of consequence.‎Grace did not look away.‎An official called her name.‎She stood.‎Nathaniel watched as she walked forward alone.‎Inside the hearing room, the air felt dense. A long