홈 / Urban / Bullied Wife In A Contract Marriage / 챕터 81 - 챕터 90

Bullied Wife In A Contract Marriage 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 81 - 챕터 90

111 챕터

The First Date(Sort Of).

~ Gideon ~The vinyl booth squeaked loudly when I sat down. It was a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to echo off the wood-paneled walls of the diner. I was soaking wet. The rain from the street had turned my white dress shirt into a cold, translucent second skin. I could feel the water dripping from the ends of my hair, running down the back of my neck, and settling into my collar. A year ago, I would have walked out of this place in five seconds. I would have called it a "liability" or "unimpressive." I would have complained about the smell of old fry oil and the flickering yellow light of the neon sign in the window. But tonight, I didn't care. I sat there, shivering slightly, and looked across the table at Amara.She looked perfect. She wasn't wet like I was. She had been faster with her umbrella, or perhaps the universe just decided she had endured enough storms. She sat with her back straight, her hands folded on the laminate tabletop. The table was slightly sticky, but she did

The Scandal Erupts.

~ Amara ~I woke up to the sound of a bird chirping on my windowsill. The studio apartment was cold, but I did not mind the chill. I stayed under the blankets for a few minutes and stared at the ceiling. For the first time in a year, my chest did not feel heavy. I thought about the night before at the diner. I remembered Gideon’s face when the waitress brought him the Lumberjack Special. He looked so out of place in that cracked vinyl booth. I remembered how he looked with his hair wet from the rain. He was not the King of Helix last night. He was just a man who did not know how to handle a pancake. I laughed softly to myself. It was a nice memory.I got out of bed and walked to the small kitchen corner. I put the kettle on the stove and reached for my favorite mug. My fingers were still stained with a little bit of blue paint from my drafting table. I liked the sight of it. It reminded me that I was an artist now. I was a CEO. I was Amara Rose Kline. I felt strong. I felt like the wa

The Doubt.

~ Amara ~The phone vibrates against the wooden table again. It makes a dull, rhythmic thud that echoes through my small studio. Gideon’s name flashes on the screen. This is the thirty-first time he has called since the news broke this morning. I do not pick it up. I do not even touch the device. I just sit on the floor with my back against the drafting table and watch the light fade. The screen goes dark for a few seconds. Then, it lights up again. He is persistent. He is a man who does not like to be ignored.My apartment feels different today. Yesterday, it felt like a victory. The walls were mine. The silence was mine. But now, the silence feels heavy. It feels like the air inside Moore Crest right before Helena would enter a room. I look at my hands. There is a smudge of Prussian blue paint on my thumb. I try to rub it off, but it has dried into the skin.I reach for my laptop. I told myself I would not look at the news again, but my fingers move on their own. I open the browser.

The Shredded Past.

~ Gideon ~ The penthouse felt too large. I sat at the small kitchen island, staring at the Ravenport skyline through the floor-to-ceiling glass. The city was a grid of cold, electric lights. I used to look at those lights and see opportunities for growth. Now, I just saw a distance I did not know how to cross. My new home was empty. There were no servants here. There was no Maribel to straighten the chairs or Helena to criticize the art. There was just me, a stack of legal documents, and the smell of coffee that had gone cold hours ago. My laptop hummed on the marble counter. The blue light reflected off the surface, making the room feel like an ice box. I adjusted my headset. The board was waiting. I hit the button to join the call. "The Kline assets must be included in the liquidation," Rolan’s voice snapped through the speakers. He sounded like he was losing his patience. "The Moore Holdings debt is massive, Gideon. We cannot afford to be sentimental about a warehouse in Linden

The Public Declaration.

~ Gideon ~The makeup artist dabbed a sponge against my forehead. The stage lights were yellow, hot, and aggressive. They made the air in the studio feel thick. I sat in a low, velvet chair that was designed for comfort but felt like a witness stand. Across from me, Diane Sterling adjusted her earpiece. She was the most watched news anchor in the country. Her hair was a perfect blonde helmet, and her smile was sharp. She looked at me like I was a puzzle she was about to take apart on national television."Thirty seconds, Mr. Moore," a producer called out from the shadows.I looked at the camera lens. It was a black, glass eye. It didn't care about my billions or my ruined reputation. It only wanted the truth. I reached into my pocket and felt the charcoal sketch Amara had made of me. The paper was worn. I traced the lines of my own slumped shoulders through the fabric of my trousers. I thought about the box of shredded paper I had sent her. I thought about the diner and the way the ra

The Voice in the Storm.

~ Amara ~I sat on the cold floor of my small studio apartment, my back pressed against the legs of my drafting table. The television screen was the only light in the room, casting a flickering blue glow over my unfinished paintings and the boxes of charcoal pencils Noah had given me. Outside, the Ravenport rain tapped against the window, but I did not hear it. My entire world was narrowed down to the black glass eye of the camera lens on the screen and the man sitting in front of it.Gideon looked different than I had ever seen him. He was not the King of Helix today, tucked behind a marble desk with a perfectly straight tie and a watch he checked every sixty seconds. His dark hair was messy, and his jaw was covered in a shadow of stubble that suggested he had not slept in days. He sat in a low velvet chair, looking unanchored and human. I reached out and touched the screen, my fingers trembling as I traced the lines of his face. The mask was gone. The cold, calculated billionaire I

The Siege of Moore Crest.

~ Amara ~ The taxi driver stopped a full block away from the main gates of Moore Crest. He looked at the wall of people through his windshield and shook his head. "I can’t go any further, lady. It is a madhouse up there. You are better off walking if you really want to get close to that mess." "This is fine," I said. I handed him the cash from my purse. "Thank you." I stepped out into the cool evening air. The rain from earlier had stopped, but the pavement was still slick and black. The air smelled of damp asphalt and the heavy exhaust of news vans. I pulled my coat tight around my shoulders. I could hear the shouting before I even reached the corner. It was a deep, rhythmic roar, the sound of hundreds of voices mixing into a single wave of anger. I walked toward the gates. This was the place I had fled from in the middle of the night. This was the fortress where I had spent a year learning how to disappear. Now, the world was trying to tear it down. I saw the signs first, hel

The Ashes of Moore Crest.

~ Gideon ~The grass felt damp against my palms. I did not care about the green stains on my white shirt. I did not care about the cold air biting at my skin. For years, I wore expensive wool and heavy silk to keep the world away. I used fashion as a shield. Now, I felt every drop of moisture and every shift in the evening wind. The shouting at the gates was a deep, steady rhythm. It was the sound of a mob that wanted to see a king fall. They got their wish. My mother was gone, taken away in the back of a police car. My board of directors had turned into a group of strangers. The estate felt like a crime scene. Blue and red lights from the police cruisers flashed against the limestone walls. They made the gray stone look like it was bruised and broken. I sat on the iron bench and looked at the ground.I looked up when I felt Amara sit down next to me. She did not touch me yet. She left a gap of air between us. I was glad she did. I did not think I could handle the warmth of another pe

Scorched Earth.

~ Amara ~"Amara, stay back! Get to the gates now!" Gideon’s voice was a ragged scream that barely cut through the roar of the fire.The orange light was blinding. It turned the dark garden into a nightmare of shifting, red shadows. I could feel the heat on my skin, stinging and dry like a desert wind. The West Wing of Moore Crest was no longer a building. It was a wall of pure fire. Thick, black smoke curled into the night sky like heavy snakes. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it felt like it might actually break."We have to move, Gideon! It’s spreading!" I yelled back. I reached out and grabbed his arm. His white shirt was already stained with black soot.Gideon didn't move. He stood frozen on the damp grass, staring at the burning limestone. "The library," he whispered. The word was almost lost to the crackle of the flames. "The library is right in the center of it.""Forget the library, Gideon! The whole wing is going to collapse!" I tugged on his sleeve with both hands

The Final Play.

~ Selene ~The air in the police station is thick and heavy. It smells of cheap floor wax, old sweat, and burnt coffee. I sit in a metal chair that is bolted to the gray floor. It is hard and cold against my back. My silk dress is ruined now. There are long, black streaks of ash on my sleeves from the West Wing. My hair is messy, and my hands are dirty, but I do not try to hide them. I look at the detective across the table. He is an older man with a tired face and eyes that have seen too many bad nights. He looks at me like I am a puzzle he cannot solve. I want to laugh at him. I am not a puzzle. I am a Moore who finally stopped caring about the weight of the name."You admit it, then?" the detective asks. He clicks a cheap plastic pen. It makes a sharp, annoying sound in the quiet room. "You set the fire at the Moore Crest Estate?""I admit it," I say. My voice is calm and steady. It is the same voice I use to order lunch at the club. "I watched the West Wing collapse into the dirt.

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