Genre Ranking
Get the APP HOT
Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress
img img Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress img Chapter 4
4 Chapters
Chapter 5 img
Chapter 6 img
Chapter 7 img
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
Chapter 25 img
Chapter 26 img
Chapter 27 img
Chapter 28 img
Chapter 29 img
Chapter 30 img
Chapter 31 img
Chapter 32 img
Chapter 33 img
Chapter 34 img
Chapter 35 img
Chapter 36 img
Chapter 37 img
Chapter 38 img
Chapter 39 img
Chapter 40 img
Chapter 41 img
Chapter 42 img
Chapter 43 img
Chapter 44 img
Chapter 45 img
Chapter 46 img
Chapter 47 img
Chapter 48 img
Chapter 49 img
Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 img
Chapter 61 img
Chapter 62 img
Chapter 63 img
Chapter 64 img
Chapter 65 img
Chapter 66 img
Chapter 67 img
Chapter 68 img
Chapter 69 img
Chapter 70 img
Chapter 71 img
Chapter 72 img
Chapter 73 img
Chapter 74 img
Chapter 75 img
Chapter 76 img
Chapter 77 img
Chapter 78 img
Chapter 79 img
Chapter 80 img
Chapter 81 img
Chapter 82 img
Chapter 83 img
Chapter 84 img
Chapter 85 img
Chapter 86 img
Chapter 87 img
Chapter 88 img
Chapter 89 img
Chapter 90 img
img
  /  1
img

Chapter 4

The main hall of the Marriage Bureau was loud, packed with couples holding cheap bouquets.

Alysia ignored them all.

Her eyes scanned the room and locked onto the VIP waiting area in the far corner.

Jude Cantrell sat on a leather bench.

He wore a bespoke charcoal suit that looked like armor.

His long legs were crossed, and he was staring down at a tablet, his thumb swiping aggressively across the screen.

He radiated a freezing, untouchable energy.

His chief of staff, Alex Vance, stood beside him.

Two massive bodyguards flanked the perimeter, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats.

Alysia walked over to a vending machine near the wall.

She bought a cup of scalding hot black coffee.

She held the flimsy paper cup in her left hand and walked casually toward the VIP area.

As she approached the invisible perimeter set by the bodyguards, she let her right ankle roll.

She pitched forward.

The hot coffee flew from her hand, splashing directly onto the chest of the bodyguard on the left.

The man hissed in pain, instinctively stepping backward and swatting at his ruined suit jacket.

The defensive line broke for exactly one second.

Alysia didn't apologize.

She slipped through the gap like a ghost.

Alex reacted instantly.

He lunged forward, his hand reaching for Alysia's shoulder to physically throw her back.

"Step back, miss!" Alex barked.

Alysia dropped her shoulder, letting Alex's hand slide off her coat.

With her right hand, she shoved a thick, matte-black business card directly into Alex's palm.

Alex looked down, ready to crush the card.

He froze.

Printed on the card wasn't code, but a single, elegant equation that redefined the project's core problem-the exact solution to the fatal flaw in the Cantrell Group's core AI project-the flaw that was currently tearing the company apart.

In the half-second Alex stopped breathing, Alysia stepped past him.

She stopped exactly two feet in front of Jude Cantrell.

Jude finally looked up from his tablet.

His slate-gray eyes met hers.

There was no surprise in his gaze, only a violent, calculating stillness.

The bodyguards recovered.

They drew their tasers, aiming the red laser dots directly at Alysia's chest.

The air in the hall turned to ice.

Jude raised his right hand.

He didn't speak, but the bodyguards instantly froze, lowering their weapons an inch.

Jude adjusted his left cufflink with his thumb-a slow, deliberate motion.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you are?" Jude's voice was a low, gravelly threat.

Alysia stared down at him.

Her heart beat in a slow, controlled rhythm.

"Stupider than getting ousted from your own board in ten minutes because you refuse to marry a socialite?"

Jude's eyes darkened. The news was public-every financial channel had been running the ticker for hours-but hearing it thrown in his face by a stranger still grated on his nerves.

Alysia pulled a plastic chair from a nearby desk and dragged it over.

She sat down directly across from him, crossing her legs, mirroring his dominant posture.

"One year," Alysia said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "A contract marriage. I act as your shield against your grandfather's arranged marriages. You act as my shield to secure my trust fund."

Jude let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Why the hell would I partner with a stray off the street when I have a line of heiresses waiting outside?"

Alysia leaned forward.

She could smell the sharp scent of cedar and expensive scotch on him.

"Because an heiress comes with a board seat and a father who wants to control you," Alysia whispered. "I come with nothing. I am clean. And I am easy to control."

She paused, letting the silence stretch.

"More importantly," she added, nodding toward Alex's hand. "I can fix the AI code on that card. You walk into your board meeting today with a working prototype, and you own the room."

Jude's eyes darkened.

He stared at her face, searching for the lie.

He found nothing but a terrifying, empty confidence.

Alex checked his watch, his face pale.

"Sir. Your grandfather's motorcade is fifteen minutes away. They are coming to pull you out of here."

Jude sat in silence for ten agonizing seconds.

The tension between them was physical, a heavy pressure pushing against Alysia's ribs.

Suddenly, Jude tossed his tablet to Alex.

He stood up, towering over Alysia.

"Where is the contract?" he demanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Alysia unzipped her bag.

She pulled out a thirty-page, legally binding prenuptial agreement.

Jude didn't read a single word.

He flipped to the last page, pulled a silver fountain pen from his breast pocket, and slashed his signature across the bottom line.

He threw the packet back at her.

His large hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist like a vice.

The heat of his skin burned through her sleeve.

"Let's go take the damn picture," he ordered, dragging her toward the registration window.

Previous
                         
Download Book

COPYRIGHT(©) 2022