All Chapters of Bullied Wife In A Contract Marriage : Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

~ Selene ~ “Is the little mouse still hiding in the library, or has she finally figured out how to use the intercom?” I didn't wait for Maribel to answer. I brushed past the head housekeeper, the sharp click of my heels echoing off the limestone floors of Moore Crest. The house always felt too large for someone as small as Amara Kline. It was a fortress of taste and history, a place where people like her were meant to be seen and not heard—and preferably not even seen. “She is in the library, Ms. Moore,” Maribel said, her voice like sandpaper. She didn't try to stop me. She knew better. Maribel was smart enough to mirror Gideon’s indifference, which meant she treated Amara like a temporary guest who had overstayed her welcome. “Wonderful. I’m here to help her,” I said, flashing a smile that didn't reach my eyes. “She clearly needs it if she thinks that dress she wore to the gala was acceptable”. I found her tucked into a corner of the library, surrounded by rows of encyclopedias t

~ Gideon ~ "The optics are perfect, Gideon. The board hasn’t been this settled in years." Adrian leaned back in the guest chair of my office at Helix Tower, his heels resting on the edge of my mahogany desk. He looked far too relaxed for a Tuesday morning, but he was right. I didn't look up from the merger projections on my screen. The numbers were clean, the risk was low, and the market was responding to the stability of Moore Logistics with a steady climb in share price. "Stability is the only metric that matters," I replied. My voice was a flat baritone, the same tone I used for every business transaction. "Is it?" Adrian reached for the morning's financial paper, tossing it onto my desk. "Because you’re being praised for more than just your quarterly earnings. Page six." I glanced down. It was a photo from the Charity Gala—the one where Amara had spilled wine. The photographer had caught us at the curb, just as I was stepping into the car. Amara stood a foot behind me, her h

~ Amara ~ “You look adequate,” Gideon said, not lifting his eyes from the financial report on his tablet. We were sitting in the back of the Maybach, the leather seats cold against my skin. It had been exactly one month since I signed my life away on a mahogany desk in Linden Row. One month of being a Moore. One month of learning that silence could be a physical weight. I smoothed the silk of my dress, a deep emerald green that Helena had picked out for me. It felt like a costume. Everything about my life now felt like a performance for an audience that wasn't even watching. “Thank you,” I replied quietly. My voice sounded small in the sealed cabin of the car. Gideon didn’t acknowledge the response. He just tapped the screen and kept reading. The blue light reflected off his sharp jawline, making him look more like a statue than a man. He was a master of efficiency; even our transit time was optimized for data consumption. The car pulled up to The Gilded Oak, a restaurant whe

~ Gideon ~ The house was too quiet when I returned to Moore Crest. Usually, I preferred the silence; it was a sign of a well-oiled machine, a household that didn't demand anything from me. But tonight, the stillness felt heavy, like the air before a storm that refuses to break. I walked through the foyer, the click of my shoes on the marble sounding sharper than usual. I didn't see Maribel, which was fine. I wasn't in the mood for her sandpaper voice or the way she always looked for a reason to gossip about the staff. I headed straight for the stairs, my mind still running through the quarterly projections I’d left on my desk at Helix Tower. As I passed the library, a sliver of light caught my eye. I stopped. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open just enough to see inside. Amara was there. She was sitting in the same oversized leather chair she always occupied, her small frame swallowed by the dark wood. She wasn't reading. She wasn't painting on that canvas she tried so ha