Contract marriage: I am the daughter of my husband's enemy의 모든 챕터: 챕터 171 - 챕터 180

Elara’s POV, “Okay,” I say, resting one elbow against the window as the little Beetle rattles down the road like it has one foot in the scrapyard already. “Favourite food.”The corners of Lucien’s mouth twitch.“We’re doing twenty questions?”“We’re doing twenty questions,” I confirm. “It’s either that or we sit in awkward silence pretending this isn’t weird as shit.”He hums thoughtfully.“Pizza, I guess.”“Liar.”“I beg your pardon?”“Pizza is nobody’s favourite food.”“Fine.” He sighs. His next word comes so quickly it almost startles me. “Blini.”He looks away immediately, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink, and I grin so hard my cheeks hurt.“Aww, you’re just a kid after all.” I tilt my head, openly studying him, and he scowls. “I genuinely thought you’d say something like steak.”“No.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not steak. I’m vegan.”I choke so violently on my own saliva that I have to smack my chest.“What?!”He glances sideways without looking remotely guilt

Elara’s POV, The night swallowed us almost immediately.Streetlights painted gold across the pavement while people drifted past us in small groups, laughing over dinners and shopping bags, paying absolutely no attention to the couple walking hand in hand among them.Well…for a while.At some point, Lucien’s fingers slowly slipped from mine.Not because he meant to.He had become distracted by whatever ridiculous story he was telling about Dante trying to teach Viktor how to use emojis properly, gesturing so dramatically that his hand simply disappeared from mine.I stared at the space between us.It shouldn’t matter.It was just a hand.Just fingers.Just......I want it back.The realization annoyed me so much that I shoved both hands into my jacket pockets before my pride did something embarrassing.I would rather choke on my own tongue than ask him to hold my hand again.“So then Dante says—” Lucien suddenly stops walking, and I almost bump into him. His eyes lit up. “Bingo.”Bef

Elara’s POV, “You think this is weird, darling?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvet vibration that seemed to echo in my chest. Before I can even blink, his hand shoots out. His fingers tangle ruthlessly into the hair at the nape of my neck, his fist tightening as he yanks my head back and I gasp, my back arching instinctively as he hauls me flush against his chest.Then he crashes his lips onto mine—not just a kiss, but a claim. It’s hard, demanding, and tastes of possessiveness.Click.The camera flashes, capturing the exact moment of impact. The second the shutter closes, he doesn’t let go. He lingers for a heartbeat longer, his teeth grazing my lower lip before pecking me once and sliding away.I’m left dazed and breathless.Behind me, Jazmy quietly lowers the camera, and Lucien strolls over, plucks it from his hands, and scrolls through the photograph.“...Perfect.”Then he removes the memory card, slips it into his pocket, and casually reaches into Jazmy's wallet.The poor ma

Elara’s POV, Morning arrives far too gently: birds sing outside the window, the curtains sway, and somewhere downstairs, dishes clink together.Everything feels normal, and I hate it.I stare at the ceiling without moving, then last night rushes back so violently that I almost sit up.Levi and Lucien. Brothers. The headline. The photographs.And my stomach twists. I turn my head toward the other side of the bed to find it empty, and his pillow is cold.Good.No...Not good.Just...Easier.I don’t think I could’ve looked at him this morning. Not after pretending to sleep while he whispered against my shoulder like nothing in the world had changed.My love is forever.The words stab me differently now, and I squeeze my eyes shut.No.Stop.Don’t think about him. Or last night. Don’t think about—Why did nobody ever mention Levi?The question appears before I can stop it. If Reuben had another son, and if Lucien had a brother… Why does nobody talk about him?Celene, Nikolai, Kallian an

Lucien’s POV, Sleep comes easily and peacefully when I leave the library, which is exactly why I know something is wrong.Dreams don’t come peacefully ever. Even without the nightmares, as a master of illusions, I find it hard to decipher reality from them. Except when I’m with Elara, on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Yet here I am.Standing beneath crystal chandeliers. The ballroom is unfamiliar, though somehow I know exactly where I am.The Church.Not the prison or the laboratories where my life changed forever.It’s the ceremonial wing.Candles stretch endlessly down polished marble, and their flames reflect against gold-lined walls. Choir music drifts somewhere in the distance, soft enough to sound holy, but cold enough to sound rehearsed.I am fourteen, or fifteen, but young enough that my suit still hangs awkwardly from my shoulders.Father stands beside me, and his hand grips my shoulder so tightly my bones ache.“Stand up straight, boy.”I obey.“Smile.”I obey agai