All Chapters of Billionaire Contract Marriage: Her Quest : Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

I remember thinking the chandelier looked like it was crying.Eight years old, sitting at my grandparents’ long dining table, patent leather shoes barely brushing the floor—and that’s what my mind latched onto. Crystal teardrops suspended above the candles, catching every flicker of light and scattering fragile rainbows across the crisp white linen tablecloth.“The quarterly reports show a fifteen percent increase,” my father announced, voice calm but edged with quiet pride.Uncle Richard’s face flushed that awful, mottled purple. His fork clattered against fine china.“*Your* expansion,” he spat. “Always *your* projects, *your* successes. Some of us have been with this company just as long, James. Some of us have sacrificed just as much.”My mother’s hand found mine under the table. Three gentle squeezes. *Stay quiet, sweetheart.*“Richard.” Grandpa’s voice sliced through the tension like a blade. “This isn’t the time—”“It’s never the time!” Uncle Richard shoved back from the table,

The Ashford estate looked exactly as it had in every memory I’d tried to bury—imposing gray stone facade, ivy climbing the walls like possessive fingers, manicured lawns stretching into twilight shadows. Perfect. Elegant. Hiding rot beneath the surface.Mr. Thomas eased the Mercedes through the wrought-iron gates at 5:55 p.m. Five minutes early—calculated, deliberate. I hadn’t come for a party. I’d come for a quiet visit: to see my grandparents, perhaps linger in the portrait gallery where my parents still smiled down from the walls, untouched by time. A brief stop to remind myself why I kept fighting.“Last chance to turn around,” Mr. Thomas said quietly.“I promised Grandma I’d come by this week.” I checked my reflection. Charcoal Armani suit instead of evening wear—practical, armored, appropriate for a simple family drop-in. “It’s just a visit. In and out.”He gave me the look that said he’d seen too many of my “simple” visits turn complicated.“I’ll have my phone on,” he said. “Te

I forced air into my lungs. Forced composure back into place.“I’m Sophia Ashford. I own this company.”His eyebrows lifted slightly. Surprise flickered, then vanished behind calm control. He glanced down at his jeans and t-shirt, then back at me—expensive suit, heels, diamonds—and a faint flush touched his neck.“Ms. Ashford.” He wiped his hands on a rag before extending one. “I wasn’t expecting—I would have dressed more appropriately.”“Unannounced visit.” I shook his hand briefly. The contact was warm, firm, callused in a way that sent an unexpected spark up my arm. “I came about the delayed reports. And why one of my best branches has gone silent for three weeks.”Wariness replaced the surprise. He released my hand but didn’t step back.“I’m David Kane. Elizabeth Kane’s son. I’ve been handling reports while she’s… dealing with health issues.”Health issues. Careful. Protective.“What kind?”“Personal ones.” His jaw set stubbornly. “She didn’t want special treatment. She’s been man

**THIRTY-SIX HOURS LATER**I hadn’t slept.The digital clock on my nightstand mocked me: 3:47 a.m. In approximately fourteen hours, I’d have to face another family dinner—perhaps the last one before Grandpa’s birthday next month. With or without David Kane on my arm.My phone sat silent on the bedside table. No calls. No texts. Nothing.He was going to say no.Of course he was going to say no. What sane person would agree to marry a near-stranger for money? What decent man would sell three years of his life to a woman who’d essentially leveraged his mother’s illness into a negotiation tool?I’d been delusional to think this would work.My phone buzzed—sharp, sudden, slicing through the dark.I grabbed it so fast I nearly knocked over the water glass.**Unknown Number: I have questions. Can we meet?**Not a yes. Not a no. Questions.I could work with questions.**Me: My office. One hour.****Unknown: It’s 4 a.m.****Me: I’m aware. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.**I was out of bed bef