All Chapters of My Contract Marriage with the CEO: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Abigail cast a sideways glance at Eleanor as they walked side-by-side behind Sam toward the President Director’s office.Abigail smirked internally, convinced that Eleanor was about to face complete ruin. All that remained was to give Eleanor one final push into the abyss she had carefully prepared.They were ushered inside Archie’s office. As the soundproof door closed behind them, a suffocating silence settled over the four occupants.Archie sat behind his executive desk, his expression cold as ice.Before him stood Eleanor—pale, yet striving to maintain her composure.Beside her, Abigail assumed an air of exaggerated shock and disappointment.Sam stood at the side of Archie's desk, holding the leather folder containing the compromised budget document."Eleanor." Archie’s deep voice broke the silence, sharp and low. "The board of directors just discovered a thirty percent budget discrepancy in the Sector 4 logistics vendor draft contract. This physical document bears your validation

Eleanor was back in the planning division.She stared at her desk, now clear of the heavy red-covered files.An immense sense of relief washed over her.Eleanor looked down at the documents meant to be turned over to Archie—the authentic files prior to Abigail's manipulation.She needed to finalize the swapped draft and deliver it to Sam before the workday ended.At three in the afternoon...Eleanor organized the newly corrected documents into a clean folder and headed for the executive elevator.When the elevator doors parted on Archie's floor, she stepped out to find the area quiet.Eleanor walked toward Archie's office door. Her eyes drifted to the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the city, where condensation bloomed as rain fell outside.Approaching Sam's desk, she found the executive assistant absent from his station. Only a tray containing a steaming bowl of warm porridge sat near Sam's cubicle."Sam stepped down to the archive room." A deep baritone voice startled Elea

That night, inside her quiet bedroom, Eleanor sat at the edge of her bed, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling.The image of Archie’s cold, rigid, and seemingly untouchable expression kept spinning in her mind. Yet now, beneath the President Director's mask of strict authority, Eleanor realized there was a gaping, profound wound underneath.It wasn't that Archie disliked eating. The man had simply lost all trust in food—the very fundamental element meant to sustain life—ever since it had nearly taken his own.The fear and psychological trauma deeply embedded over the years had locked Archie’s body tightly at the second bite.Eleanor let out a soft sigh, her gaze shifting to her own hands. In the past, her late grandmother always taught that meals prepared with sincerity and care carried a warm, comforting sense of safety.Eleanor was skilled at cooking. If Archie couldn't trust food from luxury restaurants or outside catering, might home-cooked meals prepared by hands entirely devoid o

A short while later...Archie's steady footsteps echoed down the marble staircase.He had changed into a comfortable grey t-shirt and loose trousers, his slightly damp black hair combed loosely back.The exhaustion on his face gradually faded now that the refreshing shower had relaxed the muscles strained throughout the day.Stepping into the kitchen area, the aroma of warm soup greeted his senses once more.There stood Eleanor, her back turned as she arranged a white porcelain bowl filled with aromatic clear broth, tender vegetable cuts, and finely minced sautéed meat—portioned meticulously so as not to overwhelm."Mr. Richter," Eleanor greeted upon noticing her husband. Her natural, radiant smile brought life to the cold kitchen. "Please sit down, sir. The soup is still very warm."Archie didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes stared at the bowl on the marble counter, then shifted back to Eleanor.An invisible hesitation crept into Archie's chest—an automatic self-defense reflex b

In the main dining room of the Richter estate...The morning atmosphere felt far warmer than usual. Archie sat neatly in his executive chair, dressed in an elegant formal black suit with a neatly buttoned shirt. Though his appearance remained as stern and commanding as ever, a distinct serenity rested upon his face this morning.Eleanor stood beside the table where the food she had prepared was already served. She was ready to attend to Archie attentively.She placed a bowl of gently aromatic chicken porridge that still radiated warm steam."Archie, this is porridge I cooked myself, please try it," Eleanor said softly, placing a spoon near his fingers. She looked at him with eyes full of hopeful expectation. "Give it a taste first. Is the flavor right, or is something missing?"Archie stared at the bowl before him. His fingers reached for the spoon handle, but his movement suddenly halted in mid-air.His dark eyes gazed down at the rising steam of the porridge with a renewed flicker o