🌹 The Contract Bride
📖 Chapter Three: Echoes of a Lie
The café's warmth did nothing to chase away the cold sliding down Emma's spine.
Still wearing red lipstick when you lie.
Damien's voice echoed in her ears like a warning bell—soft, charming, but laced with threat.
Alexander's stare bore into her, sharp as glass. "Emma. What is he talking about?"
She forced a tight smile, clenching the napkin in her lap. "It's just an old joke."
Alexander didn't blink. "Try again."
Damien chuckled, swirling the espresso in his cup. "Careful, Wolfe. You know what they say about digging into your bride's past. You might uncover something you can't bury."
Emma's stomach twisted.
Alexander stood abruptly, chair scraping the floor, and stalked out of the café without a word.
Damien leaned back, satisfied. "Still has the temper of a spoiled king. Though I suppose you like them powerful and dangerous."
Emma glared at him. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you owe me," he said calmly. "And debts, Emma… don't vanish with marriage contracts."
Two Years Ago — Flashback
The night had been cold, the city loud and unforgiving. Emma, desperate for cash, had taken a job as a cocktail waitress in an underground gala rumored to be invitation-only.
That's where she first saw Damien Vale.
He'd watched her all evening. Never touched. Just watched.
Then, as she cleared a table, he stopped her.
"Pretty girls don't belong in places like this," he said.
"Pretty girls don't pay hospital bills," she replied.
That night, he made her an offer.
Dinner. No strings. A talk.
She declined.
But the next day, an envelope arrived at her apartment—containing cash. Enough to pay her rent for six months.
She never asked how he found her. She just took the money and ran.
She hadn't seen him since.
Until now.
Present Day — Hotel Suite, Paris
Alexander's jaw tightened as he stood by the window, a whiskey glass untouched in his hand.
Emma entered quietly. "You left."
"You lied," he snapped without turning.
"I didn't—"
"You knew Vale. You had history. You kept it from me." He turned now, eyes like a brewing storm. "You signed a contract that demanded full transparency."
Her heart pounded. "You didn't ask for my past. Just my obedience."
Alexander set the glass down with a thud. "Why did he say you owe him?"
Emma hesitated. "Because once, a long time ago, he helped me. That's it."
"Helped you how?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. "Money. For rent. Nothing else happened."
His silence said he didn't believe her.
But instead of accusing her again, he opened a drawer and tossed a thick manila envelope on the bed.
"What's that?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Just walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
With trembling hands, Emma opened it.
Inside were photos—of her. Of Damien. Of that same underground gala two years ago.
The same night she met Damien Vale.
And something else: a printed copy of her original contract.
Only this one… had an extra clause.
Clause 7B: The bride must disclose all previous associations with competitors of Wolfe Corp. Failure to do so constitutes breach.
Her breath left her in a rush.
How did she miss that?
Or… had it been added after she signed?
Next Morning — Wolfe Corp Paris Office
Alexander's demeanor was different. Calm. Calculated. Like a man holding a loaded weapon in his pocket.
Emma sat across from him at a glass table while executives murmured in the hallway outside. The office was modern, sterile, and high above the city—just like him.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said coolly. "You're going to attend this gala with me tonight. You will stand beside me, smile, and act like the doting wife you were paid to be."
"And if I don't?"
He leaned forward. "Then Clause 7B kicks in. You breach the contract. Your father's treatment ends. The lawyers come. And I bury you."
Emma stared at him, stunned by how cold he sounded. "You added that clause after I signed."
"Prove it," he whispered.
She stood, the chair scraping back. "I see what you are now."
Alexander's eyes flicked to hers. "No, Emma. You're just starting to see what you are."
Later That Night — Gala at Château de Rouge
The hall glittered with crystal chandeliers and symphony music. Everyone dressed like royalty. Emma wore a black gown that clung to her like a second skin. Alexander held her arm tightly, every move rehearsed, every smile fake.
Across the hall, Damien stood with a glass of wine and a smirk that spelled trouble.
Alexander whispered, "If he approaches you, you walk away."
"I'm not your puppet," she snapped under her breath.
"You're my wife," he replied darkly. "Start acting like it."
Emma's eyes locked with Damien's again.
Only this time, he wasn't smiling.
He was watching something. Behind her.
She turned.
A young woman in a red dress had just entered, holding a tablet. She walked straight to Alexander and said softly, "Sir, you'll want to see this."
She handed him the screen.
Emma caught a glimpse.
It was an email.
Subject: RE: Your Bride's Secret Agenda.
From: Damien Vale.
Alexander's face darkened.
Emma's blood turned to ice.
Damien had sent something.
But what?
Alexander's grip tightened around the tablet. His eyes lifted slowly to Emma's.
"Is it true?" he asked, voice low, dangerous.
Emma opened her mouth.
But before she could speak—
Alexander said, "Did you come into this marriage… to spy on me?"
Emma and Damien's past revealed
Tension with Alexander escalates as her secrets are exposed
Fake contract clause adds power imbalance
Cliffhanger: Damien sends Alexander an email that could ruin Emma