Semua Bab OWNED BY AN INVISIBLE HUSBAND : Bab 1 - Bab 10

Two days.Two whole days and the card still sat in my room like some cursed object waiting to ruin my life.Honestly, maybe it already had.I stared at it through the reflection of my mirror while sitting on my bed, my oversized shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder.Victor Hale. Corporate Lawyer.The black card rested between my fingers as I turned it over slowly for probably the hundredth time that day.Nothing about it looked fake.Trust rich people to make even business cards intimidating. I sighed and dropped backward onto the mattress dramatically before holding the card above my face.“What kind of rich psychopath hires a wife through a lawyer?” I muttered.The ceiling obviously didn’t answer.Outside my window, the city buzzed faintly with evening life. Car horns echoed from down the street while music blasted somewhere in the neighborhood. Meanwhile I was sitting in my tiny room considering whether or not to call a mysterious lawyer offering me a contract marriage.God.I

“Welcome home, Amara.” I literally felt chills in my whole body. And I desperately searched round for the source of the voice, hoping I’d catch him. But I was sorely disappointed. The voice disappeared immediately after that. My heartbeat suddenly felt too loud inside my chest. My eyes moved instinctively toward the small cameras hidden in the corners. Victor continued walking like nothing had happened. Like mysterious billionaire voices speaking through invisible speakers was completely normal behavior. I huffed a breath, moving a strand of hair from my mouth as I stood straighter. Psychopaths. Both of them. I hurried after him quickly. “Wait.” Victor slowed slightly. “That’s it?” I whispered harshly. “That’s all he says?” “For now.” I frowned. “Where is he?” “Working.” “That’s not an answer.” “It’s the only one I can give.” I glanced around again uneasily as we walked deeper into the mansion. Everything looked too perfect. The floors gleamed beneath soft lights whi

The door creaked open slowly and the sound alone sent chills crawling down my spine.Mrs. Laurent stood behind me breathing hard enough to make me turn slightly toward her again.I had never seen her look unsettled since I got here. But now? The woman genuinely looked afraid.“Miss Glen,” she said sharply. “Step away from the room.”Too late for that now. Curiosity had already grabbed me by the throat.I pushed the door wider open slowly while dust drifted visibly through the air. The smell hit me first.Old.My flashlight swept across the darkness carefully and my breath caught immediately.Monitors. Dozens of them.My eyes widened slowly.“What the hell…”The room looked massive inside. Far bigger than I expected.Old desks stretched across the walls carrying computer systems, tangled wires, blinking lights and screens everywhere.Some were switched off while others flickered quietly.Mrs. Laurent stepped beside me quickly.“You shouldn’t be here.”I barely heard her because my brai

I paced around my room, scratching my head till my scalp hurt.“It’s a terrible idea.” I said to myself. “How do I even begin?”I groaned at the ceiling, hating how frustrating and troubling it was to give my friend a call. “She’s probably sitting on the bed right now, holding her phone in her hand, patiently waiting for me to call. Oh my God.” I sighed as i facepalmed.“You can do this.” I mentally prepared myself as I stared at my phone for almost ten minutes before finally deciding to call Elena.Which honestly said a lot about my survival instincts because if anybody deserved updates before I got murdered in a billionaire’s mansion, it was probably my best friend.The problem was figuring out how much truth I could actually tell her without hearing screaming through the phone for the next six hours.I sat cross legged near the center of the bed while sunlight stretched softly across the room. Everything around me still looked offensively expensive.Meanwhile my brain was currentl

Victor arrived at exactly seven in the morning like some expensive corporate demon summoned by punctuality itself. I opened the bedroom door half asleep, hair messy, eyes barely functioning and immediately regretted everything about my existence. How did this man look professionally intimidating before sunrise? Victor stood outside my door dressed in a dark charcoal suit with his hands folded neatly behind his back. Not a wrinkle anywhere. Not a single strand of hair misplaced. Meanwhile I looked like stress had physically attacked me overnight. He glanced at me once. “You’re late.” I blinked slowly. “For what exactly?” “Training began ten minutes ago.” I stared at him in disbelief. “You scheduled my suffering before breakfast?” Victor remained calm. “Presentation begins with discipline.” “Presentation begins with coffee,” I corrected while rubbing my eyes tiredly. “And preferably emotional stability.” “You have five minutes to prepare.” “You sound like