All Chapters of The Measure of a Touch:from the CEO's contractual wife : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The room suddenly felt smaller. Then footsteps.Furious and firm against the floor.Paige appeared at the top of the stairs.She had heard everything.Her descent was slow, each step deliberate, rage simmering beneath her perfect posture. Her face was pale, eyes sharp and glassy, lips pressed so tight they blanched. Her hands curled and uncurled at her sides as she reached the bottom.And without hesitation,The sound echoed.A sharp crack.Stars swimPiper’s head snapped to the side as pain exploded across her cheek. Her vision blurred instantly, the sting blooming hot and fast. She tasted blood as she staggered back, barely catching herself.The room gasped.A good thing the children had long been carried to the nursery by one of the helps.Paige stood rigid, chest rising hard, hand still raised as if shocked by its own force. Her voice trembled—not with guilt, but fury barely contained.“You don’t touch what isn’t yours.”Piper slowly turned back, eyes wet, stunned into silence.P

The man staggered, trying to steady one foot in front of the other as he approached Thomas. His clothes hung loose and stained, jacket frayed at the cuffs, shirt unbuttoned too far. His hair was uncombed, thinning at the crown, skin roughened by years of neglect and cheap alcohol. Even from inside his car, Thomas could almost smell him.The man squinted as he looked through the driver's side, then smiled eagerly. Too widely.“Hello sir?” His voice slurred, but was loud. “Is… is this the billionaire’s house?”Thomas stared at him, something cold settling behind his eyes.“Yes,” he said flatly. “State your business.”The man chuckled, rubbing his palms together like he’d stumbled upon luck. “Ah. Thought so. Knew it. This place is massive. Bloody massive. My God.” He craned his neck, peering past the gate as though he could absorb the wealth by sight alone. “My daughter married well.”Thomas raised a brow. “Your daughter?”The man nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes. Piper. Piper McDowell. Lovel

Minutes later, Thomas stepped into Paige’s room. The door clicked behind him, shutting out the faint sounds of the corridor outside. Paige was already pacing, the fabric of her blouse taut across her shoulders, fingers gripping at nothing, as though she could fight herself against the injustice she felt. “I don’t understand,” she began, voice rising, eyes flashing with outrage. “Why am I not allowed in your—your room—but Piper—” she jerked her head toward the corridor, “—a woman like her gets moved into your bed? Into your space?” Thomas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His expression was calm, but every line in his body radiated contained irritation. “Because she is my wife,” he said, voice quiet but firm. "What?" Paige froze, disbelief registering over her face. "Your what? Do not call her that, Thomas!" She turned red in fury, eyes clouding from jealousy. How dare she? “You heard me. Contract or not, she is my wife, for now." Thomas reaffirmed. "I will not

By the time they arrived at the gala, the city lights of Beverly Hills twinkled like a constellation scattered across the hills. The driveway sloped up, lined with expensive vehicles, their polished surfaces reflecting the ornate lamps that punctuated the entrance. Thomas parked the car himself. Piper stepped out, the stilettos on her legs clicked sharply on the stone driveway. Her heart raced against her ribs, like an animal trapped in a beautiful cage. The crowd was immediate. The flash of cameras assaulted her, reporters’ murmurs barely understandable over the hum of the elite gathering. Eyes swept over her as she followed Thomas’ hand, gripping firmly on hers. Inside, the ballroom unfolded in marble and light—crystal chandeliers overhead, mirrors stretching the space wider, waiters weaving through with silver trays while a string quartet played softly. Thomas led her through the room, stopping as faces recognized him. “Elliot Ward,” Thomas said smoothly. “Chairman of

Piper heard the door open softly. Her body reacted as it always did — muscles tightening. Breath catching. Heart stumbling like it had been startled mid-beat. It didn’t matter how many nights passed. Her body still responded to Thomas as if he were a threat it couldn’t name.He entered theire bedroom quietly, but his cologne betrayed him instantly. It curled around her senses, pulling her back to the edge of want. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep, the way she always did. Though she knew better than to believe he’d fall for it.He removed his jacket, the fabric whispering as it slid over the chair. Shoes followed. Seconds later, the mattress dipped slightly. She didn’t move, didn’t turn. Didn’t breathe any differently. She heard him pause.Then the duvet shifted.Thomas pulled it higher over her shoulders with a careful motion—one meant for someone already asleep. The fabric brushed her neck and she flinched.It was small and involuntary.But he noticed.“You’re awake,” h