🌹 The Contract Bride
📖 Chapter Four: The Devil's Bargain
The ballroom's music faded into white noise.
Emma's pulse thundered in her ears as she stared at Alexander, his jaw clenched, tablet still glowing with Damien's damning email.
> Your bride isn't just a pretty face. She's been watching you.
Ask her what she was promised before the wedding.
Ask her about Project Carthage.
—D.V.
"Spy?" Emma echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think I came here to spy on you?"
Alexander's eyes were stone. "Answer the question."
"I never—" She stopped, heart twisting. "I don't even know what Project Carthage is."
But he didn't blink. "Lies come too easily to you, Emma."
Around them, the gala glittered on, oblivious to the storm brewing in their corner.
Damien watched from across the room with the calm smugness of a man who had just set fire to the board and was now waiting to see who would burn first.
Alexander took Emma's arm, grip like iron. "We're leaving."
She didn't protest. Not here. Not under the eyes of Paris's most elite.
Back at the Hotel — Midnight
The door slammed shut behind them.
Emma ripped her arm from his grip. "Don't you dare manhandle me again."
"Then stop acting like a threat," Alexander spat.
"I didn't send that email! Damien is playing a game and you're falling for it!"
He crossed to the minibar, poured a drink with shaking hands.
She stared at his back. "You really believe I'm here to betray you?"
He downed the glass in one gulp.
"When people have nothing, they cling to survival," he muttered. "You've been desperate before. I know desperation when I see it."
Her voice cracked. "I didn't sell you out."
He turned, eyes bloodshot. "Then tell me what Damien has on you."
Emma hesitated.
And in that moment, Alexander knew.
She was hiding something.
The Next Day — Damien's Office, Paris
Sunlight poured into the glass-walled office as Emma walked in unannounced.
Damien didn't look surprised. "So. He read the email."
Emma shut the door behind her. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I warned you. You owe me."
"I repaid you—"
"No, you ran," Damien interrupted. "Now I want something else."
She stared at him. "What?"
He stood, walking toward her with that same dangerous calm. "Wolfe is building something called Project Carthage. A private data weapon. AI surveillance. Untraceable. And illegal."
Emma frowned. "I've never heard of it."
"You're in his house. His life. His bed. You'll find it."
She took a shaky step back. "You want me to actually spy on him?"
Damien smiled. "You owe me. And if you don't do it… I'll make sure he sees every piece of your past. The night at the gala. The money. The reason your father ended up in that hospital."
Emma's stomach dropped. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
He handed her a flash drive. "Plug it into any Wolfe Corp computer. It'll do the rest."
She held it like it burned. "And if I refuse?"
Damien leaned in. "Then Alexander won't be the only one who loses everything. You will too."
That Night — Wolfe Manor, Paris Suite
Emma sat alone on the bed, the flash drive clutched in her palm like a loaded weapon.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
> "Clock's ticking. Make a choice." —D
A knock came at the door. She quickly hid the drive under the pillow.
Alexander entered, tension in every line of his body.
He didn't speak right away. Just stood in the doorway, watching her like she was a puzzle he could no longer solve.
Then finally, his voice cracked through the silence.
"I asked my lawyers. The clause you signed… was altered after you agreed. Someone tampered with the contract."
Emma looked up, shocked. "So you believe me now?"
His expression darkened. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that clears you."
She stood. "Why are you even telling me this?"
Alexander walked closer. "Because Damien Vale is using you to get to me. And I need to know if I can still trust you."
Emma's breath caught.
He was giving her a chance.
A test.
"I've never lied to you, Alexander," she said softly.
He searched her face for truth.
Then he nodded once and left.
Emma sat back down, pulling the flash drive from beneath the pillow.
Her hands shook.
An hour later, Emma crept into Alexander's private study. The computer was unlocked.
Her fingers hovered over the USB port.
One choice would ruin him.
The other might destroy her.
She plugged it in.
The screen blinked.
> Uploading...
But just before it reached 100%, a voice came from behind her.
"Don't move."
Emma turned slowly—face to face with Alexander.
His eyes were fire.
And in his hand?
A gun.