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My Life in a Contract Marriage: Rescued by a Hot Billionaire

Beauty was the Ashford family law, and Freya Sinclair was beauty come to life—until an accident stole that title from her. Sold to the Ashfords for a bag of chips, Freya was forced into a marriage with their heir, Alexander Ashford, on her 18th birthday. Unloved and unwanted because of a scar, she endured years of rejection. Determined to reclaim her life, Freya takes a stand, only to be cast out by the family that never wanted her. Homeless and disowned, she crosses paths with Sylus Thorn, a world-renowned fashion designer and enigmatic billionaire. Just when Freya believes she can start over, Alexander comes back to claim the wife he once discarded. “Do you have anything to say regarding your stepsisters’ affair with your husband?” Just when I thought I had no choice but to respond, a strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me out of the crowd. Startled, I looked up to see a tall, muscular man guiding me away with ease, his presence shielding me from the cameras and the reporters’ relentless questions. We reached a black car parked at the edge of the lot, and relief flooded through me. “Mr. Thorn,” I whispered, recognizing his familiar face. “Get in,” Sylus commanded, his voice calm but firm. Without hesitation, I climbed into the car, my heart racing from more than just the escape. Will Freya save her marriage to Alexander, or will she be swept off her feet by the mysterious Sylus Thorn? Join the MLCM Readers https://discord.gg/gEq2mCr574

Jasmyne_ · Urban
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79 Chs

Against The Odds II

For the more intricate details, I turned to the metallic threads Dominic had included. I chose a shimmering gold thread for the sculptural elements, its fine but sturdy texture ideal for creating dimension without overpowering the design. The spool felt almost weightless in my hand, and the thread gleamed like spun sunlight as I measured out the right length—about 18 inches at a time to avoid tangling.

I began folding and twisting the chiffon, shaping it into sculptural patterns. Each fold had to be just right—not too tight to avoid stiffness, but secure enough to hold its form. Using the curved embroidery needle, I tacked the folds into place with the gold thread, the needle's shape allowing me to weave through layers of fabric effortlessly. The result was a series of intricate swirls and waves that gave the gown a sense of movement and depth, almost like a living, breathing piece of art.