All Chapters of DAMIEN'S CONTRACT WIFE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Sophia's POV The words hung in the air. I stared at Damien, momentarily forgetting the notebook in my hands.His gaze remained fixed on the worn leather cover, as though it awoke the memory he spent years trying to bury. “You know this notebook?” I asked He didn't answer. Instead, he walked around the office, his polished shoes silent against the hardwood floor. He stopped a few feet away from me, his eyes never leaving the notebook. The calm expression he'd worn since I met him hasn't changed, but there was something different about his eyes. “Mr. Hart?”That finally drew his attention to me. His face returned to its usual unreadable expression. “Where did you find it?” I hesitated before answering. “In my father's drawer.” He gave a slow nod, almost as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. “I thought as much.”I frowned. “You were expecting this?”Before he could respond, his phone vibrated. The sharp sound sliced through the silence.He glanced at the screen

Sophia's POV The following morning arrived far too quickly. After getting dressed, I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, looking professional and composed. London greeted me with another grey morning. The city was already alive when I stepped out of the taxi in front of Hart global headquarters. The building towered over everything around it, its glass façade reflecting the cloudy sky like polished steel. Employees streamed through the revolving doors with the confidence of people who knew exactly where they belonged. I hesitated for a brief second before I reminded myself that I wasn't here as someone's daughter. I was here as myself. I straightened my shoulders and walked inside. The reception area was every bit as impressive as the exterior. Marble floors stretched beneath my feet, sunlight poured through the enormous windows, and the quiet efficiency of the place was almost intimidating. No one raised their voice. No one appeared rushed. Everything seemed to m

Sophia's POV I sat rigidly in the worn leather chair across from Detective Collins, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The detective's office smelled of stale coffee and old paper, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. With a deliberate motion, he placed a sealed evidence bag on the desk between them."Thank you for coming in so quickly, Miss Bennett," he said, his voice steady but not unkind."You said you found something that belongs to my father," I replied, leaning forward slightly. "What is it?"Detective Collins slid the bag across the scarred wooden surface. Inside, glinting under the harsh light, was my father's wristwatch—the elegant silver timepiece my late mother had given him on their first wedding anniversary. I recognized it instantly, the familiar scratches on the band, the way the clasp had always been a little loose.My breath caught. With trembling fingers, I picked up the bag, turning it over as if it might vanish."This... this is his," I whispered.

Sophia's POV The dim glow of the city lights filtered through the expansive windows of Damien's private office, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany desk. It was well after business hours, and the usual hum of Hart Global had faded into silence.Only three of us remained, Damien, standing by the window like a sentinel guarding his empire, Adrian Wells, his personal lawyer, who had just entered with a slim leather briefcase clutched in his hand, and me.Adrian greeted me with a polite nod, his expression professional yet warm enough to ease the knot in my stomach. “Good day Miss Bennett.”“Mr. Wells,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. I had spent the day reviewing every scrap of information I could find on Hart Global and its tangled family dynamics, but nothing prepared me for the gravity of this room. The air felt thicker here, charged with secrets and high-stakes decisions.Damien remained by the window, his silhouette outlined against the glittering skyline. H

Sophia's POV The early morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damien’s penthouse office, casting a soft golden hue over the sleek furnishings. I arrived with the revised agreement tucked under my arm, my eyes heavy from another sleepless night. My reflection in the mirror had shown a woman who looked composed on the surface, but inside, everything felt frayed.Damien was already waiting, standing near the expansive glass wall with his hands in his pockets, his posture radiating quiet control. He turned as I entered, his grey eyes assessing me. “You came.”“I said I would,” I replied, my voice steadier than my nerves. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, a reminder that this meeting sealed more than just paperwork.Adrian Wells entered shortly after, carrying the final contract with the same meticulous care I had come to expect from him. “This is the final version,” he announced, placing two identical copies on the wide table. “No further amendme