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
Silenced
Ignoring the murmurs, I dusted off my clothes, muttering a curse as I took in the Ashfords' appearance—impeccably composed, not a single scratch or speck of dust. They looked annoyingly pristine, while I resembled someone who had crawled out of a bombed-out building. Without thinking, I blurted, "How the hell do you all still look perfect after a freaking explosion? Seriously, not even a hair out of place. How is that even possible?"
The elders exchanged glances, a few raising brows in faint amusement. Alexander's lips twitched in what looked suspiciously like a repressed smile, but he quickly returned to his usual stony demeanor. I huffed, brushing plaster from my shoulder, when I caught sight of something black out of the corner of my eye.
There, lying in a puddle of blood, was a black envelope. Its wax seal bore the imprint of a serpent, coiled and poised to strike. A shiver crawled down my spine. I'd seen that seal before, and it didn't bring good memories.