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
Who Are You, John Doe?
The morning sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow over the small guesthouse room I was sharing with Avery. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of toast, and for a moment, the cozy atmosphere almost made me forget the chaos of the competition.
Avery, ever the early riser, was already at the small dining table with a plate of eggs, toast, and a fruit salad. Her long auburn hair was tied into a neat braid, and she looked far too put together for someone dealing with the same stress as the rest of us.
"Morning, sunshine," she greeted, raising her mug of coffee with a smirk. "Rough night?"
I groaned, grabbing a plate and piling it with food before dropping into the seat across from her. "You have no idea."