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
A Game of Cloth and Daggers
The next round was only a day away, and I already felt like I was being pulled in a thousand directions.
But one thing was clear: I couldn't afford to let my guard down. Not for a second.
As I looked back at Adrian and Estelle, standing together like royalty, I couldn't help but wonder: how far would I have to go to beat them?
The day of the second round arrived with an air of tension that was almost suffocating. The dining hall buzzed with whispered conversations, sharp glances exchanged over half-eaten plates of food. Breakfast felt like a mere formality; everyone's focus was elsewhere.
Avery and I sat at our usual spot by the windows, but the light streaming in did little to ease the weight pressing on my chest.
"You ready for this?" Avery asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear.
"Do I have a choice?" I replied, forcing a weak smile.