Billionaire Contract Marriage: Her Quest のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Sophia’s POVChen’s office smelled like stale coffee and printer ink—small, cluttered, buried on the fourth floor of a nondescript precinct building. No windows. Just fluorescent lights and stacks of files threatening to avalanche.He slid a folder across the desk. “Marla’s thumb drive was gold. Cross-referenced payments match the mechanic’s timeline. Also found wire transfers to a private security firm—same one that handles your uncle’s personal detail. Small jobs. Off-books. One of them was surveillance on your parents’ car the week before the crash.”I stared at the printouts. Numbers. Dates. Names.Proof.Real proof.My fingers trembled when I turned the page.David sat beside me—silent, solid. His knee pressed against mine under the table. Anchor.Chen leaned forward. “We’re close. But Richard’s smart. He’s lawyered up. Offshore accounts are buried deep. We need one more link—something that ties him directly to the mechanic or the watcher on the bridge.”I nodded. “I’ll get it.”

Sophie's POVThe headline landed like a slap I’d been waiting to deliver.**Ashford Heiress Buys Her Way to Love? Sources Say Sophia Ashford's Sudden Fiancé Is a Paid Prop**I refreshed the page three times before breakfast, watching the view count climb. Two million already. Comments pouring in—some swooning over the kiss, most laughing at the “paid prop” angle. Perfect.I sipped my latte on the terrace of Mother’s estate, phone in one hand, manicured nails tapping the screen. The kiss photo was everywhere: David cupping her face, Sophia leaning in like she actually meant it. Pathetic. Desperate.Mother appeared behind me, silk robe trailing. “Well?”I turned the phone. “It’s working. Stocks dipped three percent this morning. Board’s whispering. She’s scrambling.”Mother’s smile was thin, satisfied. “Good. The kiss was clever. Made them look real for a moment. But the doubt is planted. People love a scandal more than a fairy tale.”I scrolled to the anonymous-source quotes I’d fed th

Sophia’s POVThe rooftop pool deck was quiet at 9 p.m.—after-hours access, no staff, just the hum of the city far below and the soft lap of water under deck lights.I stood at the edge in a simple black one-piece, arms wrapped tight around myself. Hair pulled back. Bare feet cold on the tile.David waited by the shallow end—barefoot, swim trunks, no shirt. He didn’t rush me. Never did.The sprinkler incident three days ago had cracked something open. Not wide—just enough to let me say the words out loud.“I want to try,” I’d told him that night, curled against his chest. “The water. With you.”He’d kissed my forehead. “Whenever you’re ready.”Tonight was whenever.I took one step closer. Water shimmered—blue, calm, terrifying.My pulse thundered in my ears.David’s voice came soft from across the deck. “We can stop anytime. Just say the word.”I nodded. Couldn’t speak yet.Another step.Toes over the edge.I dipped one foot in.Cold.Sharp intake of breath. Memories surged—river black

Sophia’s POVThe contract lay on the dining table between us like a relic from another life.Thick cream paper, black ink, my lawyer’s precise clauses staring up at us. Three years. No intimacy unless mutually agreed. Separate bedrooms. Amicable divorce at the end.I hadn’t touched it since the morning I told my lawyer to destroy all copies.David sat across from me—shirt sleeves rolled up, coffee mug cooling in his hand. He hadn’t said much since I pulled the original from the safe. Just watched me with those steady ice-blue eyes that saw too much.I traced the edge of the paper with one finger. “I want to burn it.”He exhaled slowly. “You sure?”“I’ve never been more sure.” My voice cracked just a little. “I don’t want a safety net anymore. I don’t want an expiration date. I don’t want rules that tell us how to feel.”He reached across the table. Covered my hand with his.“Then we burn it.”I looked up. “You’re not scared?”“I’m terrified.” His thumb stroked my knuckles. “But I’m mo

Sophia’s POVSunlight slipped through the half-closed blinds, painting thin gold stripes across the sheets. I woke slowly—limbs heavy, body pleasantly sore in places I hadn’t felt in years. David’s arm was still draped over my waist, his breath warm and even against the back of my neck.No panic.No counting.Just quiet.Just him.I shifted carefully—didn’t want to wake him yet. Turned in his arms until I could see his face.He looked younger asleep—lashes dark against his cheeks, mouth soft, faint stubble shadowing his jaw. Peaceful in a way I rarely saw when he was awake. Like the weight he carried for me lifted when his eyes were closed.I traced one finger lightly along his collarbone. Felt the steady rise and fall of his chest.He stirred. Eyes fluttered open—ice-blue, hazy with sleep, then sharpening when they found me.“Morning,” he murmured. Voice gravelly. Sexy in a way that made my stomach flutter.“Morning.”He smiled—slow, sleepy, devastating.“You’re staring.”“You’re bea