All Chapters of The Rival’s Contract Wife: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Valerie paced slowly across the spacious dining hall, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor as she issued calm, precise instructions to the interior decorators. "The white orchids need to be centered, not angled," she said, gesturing toward the long mahogany table. "And please lower the crystal chandelier lights just a little more. I don't want it too bright. Make it warm." One of the staff members nodded quickly and adjusted the dimmer. Another reached for the velvet drapes, and Valerie stopped him with a raised hand. "No, not like that. Pull them back evenly on both sides. Damian notices symmetry." She clasped her hands together once she was satisfied, scanning the room with careful eyes. The dining hall looked nothing like it usually did. Soft golden lights glowed against deep emerald walls, silver vases filled with fresh eucalyptus and white roses lined the center of the table, and a faint scent of sandalwood and amber lingered in the air. On the table, a candl

Valerie didn’t sign the papers. She couldn’t. Her pride was a shattered heap on the floor, but a stubborn, manic part of her refused to just vanish.By the very next morning, the grand foyer of the Vance mansion looked like a high-end luggage department. Trendy pastel-pink suitcases and designer trunks were piled high against the minimalist white walls. Petra hadn't even waited twenty-four hours to completely take over."Damian said the master suite on the second floor has the best morning sunlight," Petra said smoothly, her heels clicking with an obnoxious, rhythmic tap as she strolled into the kitchen.Valerie was standing by the counter, trying to brew a cup of tea to stop the violent trembling in her chest. She hadn't slept a single wink. Her mind was a chaotic, emotionally unstable mess, teetering dangerously between hot, burning rage and a suffocating despair.Petra walked right up to the kitchen island, deliberately rubbing her flat stomach with a soft, practiced stroke. A smug

The breakfast tray sat untouched on the rolling mahogany table across Valerie’s lap. She couldn't eat. Her eyes were fixed on the clean, thick stack of cream-colored paper Killian had just placed in front of her.At the very top, embossed in heavy gold ink, were the words: MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.Valerie looked up, her heart hammering against her ribs. Killian stood at the foot of the bed, his hands clasped casually behind his back. He was fully dressed now in a dark, tailored midnight-blue suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, his hands covered securely in a fresh pair of black leather gloves. The intense warmth from his bare hand the night before felt like a hallucination."A marriage contract?" Valerie’s voice was barely a whisper. "Are you insane? I finalized my divorce from Damian less than twelve hours ago.""Exactly," Killian said flatly, his dark eyes fixed on her pale face. "Which means you are currently a legal free agent. And you are also completely destitute."The cold tru

"You're going to burn a hole through that glass if you stare at it any harder." Valerie didn't move an inch. She kept her face turned toward the tinted limousine window as they glided down the winding road, leaving the secluded Sterling Mountain Estate behind. Her wet house slippers rested on a dry towel Philip had handed her before they left the villa. "I am practicing looking at things that are far more pleasant than your face," she replied flatly. Killian didn't look up from his encrypted tablet. "A wall of mountain fog? Fascinating choice." Valerie turned her head, her dark eyes flashing with fire. "Three hours and twenty minutes left, right? You don't need to waste your breath entertaining me." "I am not entertaining you," Killian said, shutting his tablet with a quiet click. "I am observing a stubborn woman who would rather freeze on a private mountain peak than admit she needs an ally." "An ally?" Valerie scoffed loud and clear. "You are an opportunist, Mr. Sterling.

"Security," Petra purred, flicking her wrist to check her fresh red nails. "Dump this garbage on the curb. She’s stinking up the place." Before Valerie could even breathe, the big guard grabbed her arm and yanked her backward. He didn't just walk her out, he literally shoved her hard onto the rain-slicked pavement like a bag of wet trash. Valerie hit the ground hard, her palms skidding across the grit. Pain shot up her arms, but before she could push herself up, a sharp red heel slammed down right on her hand. Valerie gasped, the sharp metal spike digging into her skin. Petra stepped out onto the curb, her fur coat completely dry under the grand awning. She ground her heel into Valerie's knuckles, keeping her pinned to the cold stone. "Get your shoe off me, you disgusting homewrecker!" Valerie snapped, her voice raspy and dripping with venom. Petra didn't flinch. Instead, she threw her head back, laughed out loud, and clapped her hands together like it was a joke. "Me? A