Contract marriage: I am the daughter of my husband's enemy의 모든 챕터: 챕터 131 - 챕터 140

Elara’s POV, The parlour is exactly like a battlefield. Well, not the kind I’ve come to experience.No blood, weapons, or anyone threatening to kill anyone.Just empty bottles, discarded cups, half-eaten food, and the aftermath of what might be the most ridiculous decision I’ve made in my entire life.Which is saying something.Outside the large windows, staff members are moving around, cleaning the mess we created while pretending not to judge us. I’m sure they’ve seen worse in this house, but somehow I think watching the terrifying dance on a table while screaming about being “Yvette from the Netherlands” might be a new experience for them.I’m sitting on the couch with Kallian, Mireya, Nikolai, and Isolde. All of us are sweaty, exhausted, and slightly drunk.Kallian suddenly places a hand on his stomach, as a loud growl echoes through the room. Everyone looks at him, and he shrugs.“Nobody can control their urges.”“Well, do,” Nikolai hisses back. “Else, you’ll leave without a sin

Elara’s POV, I don’t remember walking back inside. One moment, I’m standing outside, watching my son bury a dead bird with Celene. Next, I’m upstairs.The world feels strangely quiet.I eat because my body tells me I need to. I bathe because the water is warm. I change because wearing the same clothes from last night feels uncomfortable. But I do everything like I’m watching someone else do it.My hands move, but my mind doesn’t. When I finally lie back on my bed, I stare at the ceiling, and the only question repeating in my head is:What did I do wrong?Because I know my son. The boy who creates weird animals with Lucy in the parlour. The boy who takes a sip of coffee and cries at how bitter it is. The boy who runs to Lucien whenever he wants to show him something because he thinks his father is the smartest man alive.My sweet, stubborn, tough Asher.We basically grew up together. I grew up with him. So when did this happen? When did something like that appear inside him? How can s

Elara’s POV, I tell myself I’m not waiting for him, but that’s a lie.After placing a sleeping Asher in his room, I know I should be resting too, but I stay in the parlour, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. I really don’t want to sleep yet. I want Lucien to come back. I want him to sleep with me again. I want to talk to him. Maybe about Asher. Maybe about what happened yesterday. Maybe about nothing.I just want him beside me. Because somehow, somewhere along the way, his presence became something I looked for without thinking.Finally, I get tired of waiting in the parlour. I take a bottle of Coke, and I’m halfway to my room when something catches my attention. A movement from the window.The lights from the lower floor spill through the drapes, and curiosity makes me step closer. Then I see her.Seraphina Devereaux. My fingers tighten, and my vision blurs. What is she doing back here? She’s dressed differently. Not like she’s trying to impress anyone, as usual. But she looks ready to l

Elara’s POV, “What just happened?”“Seraphina…” Lucien pauses, still looking at the ceiling. “She just said what she felt for the first time.”I stare at him. “She kidnapped our son.”“I know.” His voice is firm. “And I’ll never forget that. But I know what it feels like to become something ugly because you thought it was the only way to survive.”“What are you talking about?” I stand up, fisting my palm, and he sits up, looking at me. “She spent years believing if she loved me enough, sacrificed enough, waited enough… eventually I would choose her.” He looks down. “That’s a terrible thing to live with.”I slam my fist on the table beside me. “You’re excusing her! She’s done horrible things all for the sake of love!”“And I’ve done terrible things too,” he says, standing up, and I gasp. “All for what?”“Lucien. Listen to yourself,” I take a step closer. “That girl kidnapped our son. Maybe somewhere along the line, you managed to have a soft heart, but I’ll never forgive her. Never.”

Elara’s POV, “My eyes are up here, darling.”“I was admiring the view,” I scoff, crossing my legs. “Then you opened your mouth and ruined it.”He laughs, then crouches down, looking completely serious. I stare at him.“What are you doing?”He looks up at me, “Swimming.”“In November?” I raise a brow, then place my ankle in the water. It’s ice cold. “Why?”He doesn’t even hesitate.“The weather is hot.”“We’re in November,” I repeat, and he shrugs.“My body regulates temperature.”“Sure,” I drawl out, rolling my eyes, and then, because Lucien is Lucien, he gets into the pool anyway. The second he goes under, I count to two seconds before his head rises. His expression is perfectly calm as he swims to me. Or, attempt to. His shoulders are shaking, so it’s more of a paddle, and he grins shakily. I bite back a laugh.“I’m not cold.”“Sure, you aren’t.”His lips are pressed into a thin line, his expression painfully serious, as if he admits he’s freezing, he’ll lose some invisible battl