My Ex Fiancé wants be back, but my contract husband owns me のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Amelia's POVI pulled off the promise ring from my finger and placed it on the table in front of me. It was the epitome of a promise that was never fulfilled.I told myself I wouldn't cry, but tears ran freely down my face. I dabbed my cheeks with my handkerchief and ordered a glass of whiskey.Earlier today, I had stepped into my engagement party, just to find Damian, my boyfriend, kneeling on one knee in front of my younger sister, sliding the ring I had picked out onto her finger while everyone clapped and cheered.I didn't understand. It didn't make any sense.I planned every single detail of that party—from the event center I rented to the food, the colors, everything. The only thing I didn't do was send out the invitations. Damian said he would handle that.And now here we are. Everyone was congratulating my sister on her engagement to my boyfriend. What the hell?! I didn't think.I marched straight to the stage, my heels clicking against the floor. I grabbed the microphone fr

Amelia's POVHe turned to Darcy, "Get the fuck out of here, we need privacy."Darcy looked at me, with a raised eyebrow. I gestured for her to leave. Darcy and Samantha never really liked Damian, and they didn't try to hide it. They were nice to him just because I begged them to. She closed the door behind her."My lawyer called me today. Your lawyer sent him the signed documents today, and I've been an acting manager for just one year. Why did you deceive me?" His nostrils flared."I should be asking you that same question. Why did you deceive me, Damian?" I stood up from my seat.He stopped in front of my desk, "I'll ask again. Why the fuck did you deceive me?" We maintained eye contact."Deceive? I didn't do that. I just made a decision. It's my company after all. I choose who to hire, and who to fire. Enjoy your one-year contract, Mr Hades. It may not be renewed." I sat down, and picked up my pen to continue working."I would like you to get out of my office, I need to work." My

Amelia's POVThe family dinnerThe car hummed to a stop outside my parent's house, and for some reason I couldn't stop shaking.My hands were clenched on my lap, my knuckles turned white. The dashboard lights cast a glow across the steering wheel where Asher sat beside me, calm as still water. He hadn't said a word since we turned onto this street. He just reached over, took my right hand in his, and wrapped his fingers around mine."You're going to crack my bones if you squeeze any harder," he chuckled.I tried to laugh, but it came out like a breath. "Sorry."He didn't let go. Instead, he rubbed his thumb slowly across my knuckles, back and forth, until I calmed down.I looked at him. When I told him that I had a family dinner this weekend, I didn't expect him to be cool with it, saying it was a great opportunity for him to meet his "soon-to-be in-laws." But here he was, in front of my parents' house, holding my hand."Are you sure you don't wanna bail?" I asked.He turned his head

Asher's POV I have sat through a lot of unbearable things in my life. My father's heart attack. The first time I realized my ex was right—that I was too cold, too closed off, too broken to love properly. The day I signed the divorce papers and felt nothing except relief. But sitting at Graham Brooks's dining table, watching him tear his own daughter apart piece by piece, was something else entirely. I couldn't look at Amelia. If I looked at her, I would lose it. So I stared at my plate, at the half-eaten piece of chicken, at the way my fork rested against the porcelain. I listened. That was all I could do. Listen to this man—this father—tell the world that his daughter was difficult, ungrateful, disobedient. That she had never been important. That she had been born unremarkable and had spent every year since proving him right. Unremarkable. The word sat in my chest like a stone. I thought about the woman I had met in that hotel room—the way she had walked into the dark like she h

Amelia's POV Asher showed up twenty minutes later with two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag that smelled like butterscotch. I love that flavor. He didn't knock. He just walked in like he had every right to be there, which technically he did. He owned five billion dollars worth of this company. He could probably walk into any office he wanted. I was still sitting behind my desk, staring at the same email I had read four times without absorbing a single word. The cursor blinked at me. "You look terrible," he said. "That seems to be the theme of the day." I rolled my eyes. He set one cup in front of me and kept the other for himself. Then he opened the paper bag and pulled out two croissants—still warm, flaky, the kind from that bakery three blocks away that I never had time to visit. "You didn't have to do this," I said. "I know. I just wanted to take proper care of my soon to be wife." He chuckled. My lips tilted slightly. He sat in the chair Damian had been sitting in