On the day she was meant to start a new life, Rosa Blaire's world falls apart. Her mother's sudden death leaves her with nothing but a crushing debt and a ruthless stepfamily. Her last hope is shattered when her mother's will forces her into a contract marriage with the heir of the powerful King family to settle a debt.
Bryant King, her cold and cruel high school crush, agrees to the marriage. A man who sees women as nothing more than tools for pleasure, he treats Rosa with utter disdain, enforcing a strict contract with no room for love or freedom.
As Rosa secretly fights her own family to protect her mother's legacy, she is trapped in a marriage of convenience, desperately searching for a way out. But when a tragic accident leaves Bryant with amnesia, he forgets everything about their past, and Marie—his best friend and secret lover—steps in to claim the role of his wife.
Heartbroken and pregnant, Rosa flees the city, only to return years later as a powerful CEO with a plan for revenge. She has built an empire to rival her husband’s, but her children’s genius and a chance encounter with the man who can’t remember her will force her to choose between revenge and a love she never thought she could have.

 > "The first rule of a contract is you don't get to make the rules. That's my job."


 Now, the kitchen was unnervingly quiet—just the hum of the coffee machine and the soft clink of porcelain. Rosa moved carefully, her fingers trembling slightly as she arranged the breakfast tray—scrambled eggs cooked just right, toast lightly buttered, and a steaming cup of black coffee.


 She set the tray on the polished dining table, the cold marble surface reflecting her uncertainty.


 Bryant stepped in, impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his jaw set like granite. His eyes scanned the room briefly, barely acknowledging her presence.


 He nodded once, then sat heavily, the chair scraping against the floor. He folded his hands, silent. Waiting.


 She poured coffee into a cup and placed it before him. The aroma filled the air, but he didn't touch it.


 Tentatively, Rosa picked up a piece of toast, broke it apart, and smiled softly. "I thought I'd make breakfast. It's not much, but—"


 Bryant's gaze finally fixed on her, cold and unreadable.


 He pushed the plate away without a word.


 > "You don't need to cook. That's what staff are for."


 Her fingers tightened around the tray.


 > "Wanting," he said, "is irrelevant now."


 > "I've been thinking… I want to start working again. Something outside the house."


 > "I wasn't asking for permission," she said, voice steady.


 He struck the table—not hard, but enough to make the cutlery jump. The untouched food rattled.


 > "You signed a contract. You work for me now."


 > "My personal assistant. Starting Monday."


 She stepped back. "I don't want that."


 > "I'm not your property," she whispered.


 Bryant stood abruptly, towering over her.


 > "You're my wife. That means you represent me. You'll work where I say, wear what I choose, and speak when appropriate."


 > "Get dressed," he said without looking back. 


 > "We're attending a party tonight. I'll send everything you need."


 Then she walked to the table, picked up the tray, and scraped the untouched breakfast into the trash.


 The dress arrived in a velvet box—deep burgundy silk, backless, with a slit that flirted with scandal. 


 She dressed slowly, makeup light but flawless. 


 The car pulled up to the venue—glass walls, golden lights, laughter spilling into the night.


Chapter 4 - Chapter 4