All Chapters of The wife he never wanted : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Amara Lawson stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her.The white gown fit perfectly—too perfectly—for a wedding that was never meant to be hers.Her fingers trembled as she smoothed the fabric over her waist. The dress had been altered overnight, rushed and silent, like everything else about today. No laughter. No bridesmaids. No joy. Just the quiet ticking of time counting down to a mistake she could no longer escape.Behind her, the door creaked open.“Five minutes,” the wedding planner said stiffly, eyes avoiding hers. “The groom is waiting.”Waiting.Amara almost laughed at that. Lucas Harrington had never waited for her—not once in the three brief meetings they’d had before this day. Powerful, distant, and sharp-eyed, he’d spoken to her as if she were a document that needed signing, not a woman about to become his wife.She nodded anyway.The planner left, and the silence rushed back in.This was never the plan.Just forty-eight h

Amara woke to a house that did not feel like hers.The guest room was too perfect—neatly made bed, pale curtains, faint scent of expensive wood polish. Nothing here carried warmth. Nothing here welcomed her. She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the truth settle again.She was married.To Lucas Harrington.A man who had never wanted her.Amara pushed herself out of bed and slipped on a robe. Her suitcase sat unopened in the corner, a reminder that she was still living out of borrowed space. Last night had been too heavy for unpacking. This morning felt worse.As she stepped into the hallway, soft voices drifted upward from downstairs.Her steps slowed.She recognized Lucas’s voice immediately—low, controlled, familiar in a way that already hurt. The second voice was female. Confident. Close.Amara hesitated, then moved toward the staircase.At the bottom stood Lucas Harrington, dressed in tailored black trousers and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled back as tho

The apartment felt colder than it had before.Amara stood in the doorway of her room, suitcase finally open on the bed. She folded her clothes slowly, carefully, as though moving too fast might cause something inside her to break. Every sound echoed—fabric rustling, drawers closing—too loud in the silence Lucas had left behind.The luncheon replayed in her mind, every glance and whispered word pressing against her chest. She hadn’t failed. She knew that. And yet she felt as though she had been measured and found lacking.She closed the suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting in her lap.This was her life now.Not a home.Not a partnership.A position.Later that evening, the door to the apartment opened. Lucas returned without announcement, his footsteps controlled and deliberate. Amara heard him moving through the living space but didn’t leave her room.A knock came at her door.“Come in,” she said quietly.Lucas stepped inside, jacket removed, sleeves rolled, exhausti

The silence after their argument followed Amara into the night.She lay awake long after the apartment lights dimmed, staring at the ceiling as the echo of Lucas’s words replayed in her mind. Don’t test me. The warning had been quiet, controlled—and far more frightening because of it.Amara turned onto her side, her heart heavy. She had spoken up, defended herself, drawn a line. And yet, instead of relief, she felt exposed, as though she’d stepped onto unstable ground.Sometime near dawn, she finally slept.She woke to movement.Lucas stood at the foot of the bed, jacket already on, his expression unreadable.“We’re leaving,” he said.Amara pushed herself upright, confusion cutting through her fatigue. “Where?”“My parents’ estate,” Lucas replied. “They requested to see us.”Us. The word sounded strange coming from him.“When?” she asked.“Now.”The drive was quiet, the city slowly fading into wide stretches of land and tall iron gates. Amara watched the scenery change, her thoughts r

Amara packed in silence.She moved quickly, folding clothes into a small travel bag while Lucas paced the room, phone pressed to his ear, issuing short, clipped instructions. His tone was all business—efficient, commanding—but his eyes kept flicking toward her, as though making sure she hadn’t vanished.“Everything’s set,” he said into the phone. “No mistakes.”He ended the call and turned to her. “We’re leaving the city.”“Tonight?” Amara asked.“Yes.”Her hands paused. “Lucas, you can’t just uproot me every time someone sends a note.”His gaze hardened. “This isn’t about comfort.”“It feels like control,” she said quietly.Silence snapped between them.Lucas stepped closer. “You don’t understand how dangerous this can become.”“Then help me understand,” Amara replied. “Don’t decide for me.”For a moment, he looked torn—caught between instinct and restraint.“You’re right,” he said finally. “But understand this—I don’t protect what I don’t value.”The words settled heavily between th