LOGINMy fiancé betrayed me and left me at the altar. So I made a deal with the one man he hates most—his uncle, Tyson. Tyson Wilson is powerful, charming, and dangerously ambitious. He needed a contract bride. I needed a ladder to reach my mother’s dreams. A contract is all it was supposed to be… until the lines between paper and reality start blurring. Now my ex-fiancé, Alex, needs me back. But I have bigger problems—lies, corporate wars, hidden agendas, and secrets people are willing to kill for. And somehow, I’m at the center of it all. My contract husband keeps pushing my boundaries, testing every rule we set. But it’s just a contract. …Right?
View More“Turn. Hang your legs on my shoulder.” The words came out as a groan, accompanied by a gasp and then the sounds of skin slapping skin.
Lyra stared at her phone screen in disgust, chest tightening with each thrust, tears slipping from her eyes as the sounds grew louder and more insistent. She'd watched the video at least a hundred times. As though if she watched it long enough, the man on the screen would somehow change from Alex, her fiancé. Or maybe it'd be less heart wrenching if the woman he was thrusting into aggressively wasn't her best friend, Nadine. The screeching sound of a microphone tore Lyra’s attention from her device. She patted away her tears—careful not to ruin her makeup. She put away her airpods, groaning at the wet patch on her silver-colored dress. On stage, Alex stood—all eyes on him. “Most people think you have it easy once you're born into a rich home—that everything is laid for you on a platter,” Alex began. “But it's quite the opposite. You constantly have to work hard… Prove yourself… Show that you're worthy enough.” He paused for impact and looked around before raising his glass higher. “So here's to being worthy.” Despite everyone knowing everything was in fact handed to him on a platter, murmurs of admiration moved through the crowd. But Lyra’s fists clung to the hem of her dress instead, chest tightening as the video kept replaying in her head. ‘Leave once you see the signs, else you'll see wonders,’ they say, but— Four years. Four years she'd been with Alex. She was supposed to just… throw it all away? Forget he once meant the world to her? Forget he'd been there for her in her darkest moment? When she was just twenty, broken, grieving the death of her only parent. What kind of person would that make her? Alex turned to Nadine—who was seated at the front table, clad in a tight scarlet dress—with a smile that made Lyra's breath hitch. “To our beautiful and hard-working Nadine,” he said. “Thank you for working tirelessly. Without you, there’s no Wilson energy.” Nadine’s plump red lips curled into a flattered grin. Lyra's eyes stung with tears while a round of applause sifted through the air. ‘Working tirelessly?’ Lyra scoffed. She was the one who'd gotten nose bleeds from trying to finish up the project last week. Reaching for a passing tray, she grabbed a flute and downed all its contents at a go. The burn as the liquid slid down her throat was a welcome distraction. “Nad, please, can you join me here?” Alex asked—voice soft, eyes dilated. Nadine’s cheeks flushed red as she stood. She adjusted her dress briefly before walking. Just as she was about to climb the stage, she almost slipped, but Alex's reflexes were quick. He grabbed Nadine's waist, and they both paused in place, eyes locking like a cheesy romance scene. Lyra watched, nails digging into her palm at the sight. She felt the hall lights spotlight every crack in her makeup but she tried to maintain her composure. So she wasn't crazy after all. The sextape was just confirmation. Confirmation to the tiny voice in her head that she'd tried to shut down. Confirmation to her friend, Daphne’s suspicion. She knew. Always did. She'd noticed the late nights. The way he ran over whenever Nadine was having cramps. The way he'd always remembered the things she liked. Hell, the way he'd looked at her. ‘You're overthinking,’ Alex had said when she confronted him then. ‘We're just friends. Nadine would be so disappointed if she knew this is what you think of us.’ Lyra blinked a couple of times. Why was the hall so blurry? Alex’s voice boomed from the stage. “I was planning to leave it for later, then I thought, 'Why not just get it over with?'" He paused for a few seconds before announcing, “Our new director of strategic innovation is Nadine Hale.” The crowd held their breath for a brief moment before the small murmuring and confused faces turned to applause. Wait… ‘It's a prank, it's a prank,’ Lyra chanted, but it didn't make her breathe any easier. It didn't stop her cheeks from getting wet. Glasses were raised instead. Nadine wrapped her hands around Alex's arm. Congratulations floated through the air like confetti. Lyra’s lungs collapsed. It wasn't a prank. She was the brain behind their groundbreaking designs… their best-selling models... Alex promised. Said she'd be the new director. Being director meant her own team, her own research division. Freedom and resources to continue her mother's research. So, ‘why stay? Even after he kept putting Nadine first? Even after seeing the sextape?’ Well, that's the reason. She'd lost him, she didn't want to lose everything too. At least it'd be less pathetic if she gained this position from the four years of being with him. Right now, he wanted to take even that away. She'd be damned if she accepted it! So without thinking, Lyra stood. “No!! There's been some mistake! I'm the new director. Not Nadine!!!” Silence. Heavy silence—glasses hanging mid-sips, mouth dropping, eyes turning to her. Then shocked gasps, whispers, and murmurs sifted through the crowd. Alex frowned. Nadine smirked. But Lyra glared at Alex, tears pouring down her face as she ran towards the stage. “You promised! You said—” She stepped on her dress and twisted her ankle just at the top of the stage. She groaned and lost her balance, arms swinging to regain her balance and stop herself from falling. “Alex,” she called, her hands frantically reaching out for him. At that point, Nadine suddenly crouched down and gasped. “Lex! I hit my foot.” Like reflex, Alex ran over to Nadine. “Are you okay?” He asked, examining her perfect foot. Lyra’s scream pierced through the hall as she struggled to grab onto something to break her fall. All to no avail as she landed at the foot of the stairs. Agonizing pain radiated through her leg, head, and back, liquid trickling down the sides of her face. Her dress was torn, exposing her underwear to all who had eyes. Lyra’s vision blurred. And through that haze, she saw the chaos that erupted. She saw Nadine standing tall…smiling. Smiling?! That triggered something in Lyra. So she used the last ounce of strength in her to shout. “Slut!! Nadine is sleeping with my fiancé!” Her consciousness was slipping, but she could hear the gasps and murmurs in the background. “T-that’s why he made her… direc—” Then darkness.Lyra reached for her bottle of water, gulped down, then wiped her mouth. “If you can't keep up, just say so.”Tyson studied her for a moment, noticing the way she held the bottle with more force than necessary. “You're angry.”She just shrugged, bouncing on her feet instead, fists up. Yet she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Why would I be? Did you do something wrong?” Tyson went still for a second. There it was— The trap question.He exhaled and shifted his stance, like he was actually thinking. “I don’t know. Am I too good that my twin doesn’t measure up?” He smirked. “I imagine that must be frustrating.”Her fist flew. He caught it. His fingers closed around her knuckles, calloused and warm. For half a second he didn’t let go. She felt the grip tighten then release, like he was deciding whether to hold on.“I didn’t use it,” she snapped, yanking her hand free. “And not like it’s any of your business. Daphne was just trying to mess with me.”“Of course.” His smirk faded, his expression tur
Daphne lingered in the corridor, away from the noise as she spoke to Lyra. “Hey babe, what’s up?” Lyra’s voice came through, suspicious and amused. She was sprawled on her bed at home, yanking off a gold hoop earring. “You’re at the club, aren’t you?” “Just came for a few drinks. Work was stressful today.” “Yeah, that’s what you say almost every weekend.” Daphne laughed. There was a pause. Then Lyra’s tone sharpened. “Did you see my message?” “Oh shit.” Daphne minimized the call, swiped to WhatsApp, and scanned their chat. “Sorry, I didn’t see it. I like the blue one.” Lyra sighed, tossing the earring onto her dresser. “Yeah, that's what I picked.” She sat up and started pulling her brown hair into a messy bun, getting ready for a shower. “Some nice guy helped me.” Daphne grinned mischievously. “Is this a love triangle I sense? Sorry—love square, I mean.” “No, no. It's not like that.” Lyra unclipped the other earring. “Plus he’s way older.” Daphne raised a brow. “Don’t
Neon lights flashed across the crowded club, painting the dance floor in shifting shades of blue, pink, and purple.Music thundered through the room, bass thrumming, bodies swaying to its rhythm. The usual smell of alcohol, excitement, and perfume in the air.Daphne had just returned from the restroom where she took Lyra’s call. Easily, she blended into the sea of bodies, spotting a brunette and dancing with her.One song became two.Two became three.By the time Daphne finally stepped off the dance floor, she was pleasantly exhausted and in desperate need of a drink.That was when she spotted him—A man sitting alone at the far end of the bar. And unlike everyone else, he wasn't dancing. Wasn't flirting or trying to be noticed. Just quietly nursing his drink while watching the crowd.Interesting.Daphne smoothed down her black tube dress and headed straight for him.The man glanced up as she slid onto the stool beside him but Daphne didn't look his way. “Two shots,” she said to the
Lyra’s head snapped to Ethan's shocked and confused face. When their eyes met, she immediately realized herself and pushed away from Tyson. “Mr. Ethan…”Ethan just cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm, sorry. Excuse me,” he mumbled before disappearing.Lyra’s lips parted with mortification. How on earth did things keep getting worse?Then she glared at Tyson. “I hope you're happy now?”He didn't even have the decency to look guilty or sorry. His back was still against the wall, hands casually adjusting his rumpled white shirt that she'd squeezed. And that infuriated her even more. Why was he acting so unbothered even after everything he'd just done?“Happy?” His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled—half, smug. “I thought you didn't see anything? So much for the glasses.” Then his gaze dropped to the box with its torn wrapping lying on the floor. “Is that it?”“Don't!” Lyra snapped. She snatched the package on the ground, then gave Tyson a final glare before walking out th
Melanie glanced at Patrick briefly before facing Nadine. “Last week, your father almost died.” Nadine blinked. Then stared at Patrick as though checking for a giant cut, a missing tooth, busted lip. Something—anything to show that he'd had a near death experience. But nothing. If anything, he l
Claire’s office looked more like a showroom than a workspace. White shelves lined one wall, displaying awards, framed certificates and photographs taken with industry leaders. Fresh lilies sat in a crystal vase near the window, their scent competing with Claire’s expensive perfume. Even her desk lo
“Leaking? The panels are just leaking?” Claire echoed in surprise, before taking a whole minute to laugh. She cackled so hard, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.Finally, she paused and regained herself. “Sorry for laughing,” she said, not in the tiniest bit sorry. “But I think you're missi
The shoes in her hand fell off and she pressed her back against the wall. What was wrong with her?? Why did she close her eyes?!Oh, goodness. But why did he stop?Were his eyes open? Did he notice she closed hers? She ran a palm across her face. He'd think she's really desperate. The scene flashe


















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