Contract Marriage: My Husband doesn't know I am the daughter of his enemy

Elara's POV,

The first thing I hear is the shout. The second is the sound of ceramic shattering against my skull.

Pain explodes behind my eyes, sharp and blinding, and I barely have time to gasp before the hot soup spills down my neck. My knees hit the marble floor with a dull thud and I hissed in pain.

"Useless!" Anya screams, her voice as shrill as usual. "Are you stupid? You brought it too hot!"

I don't answer or look up. I just kneel with my face to the ground, because kneeling is expected.

Dorine's heels click against the floor and she peers down at the mess like she's inspecting dirt.

"What's all this noise?" she asks.

Anya scoffs. "She didn't warn me about how hot the soup was so I burned my tongue."

Dorine's eyes flick to me and before I can blink, she slaps me hard.

"She wanted to hurt you," Dorine snickers. "Jealous, wicked girl. Always plotting."

The shouting and the insults blur and I zone out because zoning out is the only way to survive. You let the pain pass through you like water, and you don't feel anything.

"Clean it," Dorine snaps her fingers in my face. "And bring another plate."

I gather the broken pieces with shaking hands, and my vision swims. Blood drips onto the floor, but no one helps me. They never do because if they did, they'd lose their job.

On my way to the kitchen, a servant stops me. "The patriarch wants to see you."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and walk into Matteo Virelli's study. He doesn't even look at my face and just points to the laptop on the desk.

"Finish this," he says. "By morning."

The blood from before drips from my hair onto the carpet and that's when he notices.

His hisses in disgust. "Get rid of that stain".

Then he leaves without a single question as to why I was bleeding. Without caring about what happened to his own daughter.

I stare at the door long after it closes and lick my lips. Its only a matter of time, I remind myself. I've given them enough and taken enough. Soon, I'll be gone.

~~

A week later, and I turn nineteen. There's a great celebration and they announce a grand masquerade ball for Anya's engagement to Lucien Kòrvac, Don of a powerful mafia dynasty. The banquet hall is filled with silk, laughter and masks.

No one notices me, which is perfect to be honest. Because while they celebrate, I pack.

Two changes of clothes, documents and cash I've stolen from my father's accounts over the years. More than enough to erase myself. I was giddy.

All I need now are my books and one last visit to the only room that ever felt safe in the entire mansion.

The library is dim when I slip inside and I startle when I hear his voice.

I pause, hidden between the shelves, and listening despite myself.

The masked man is speaking low, and frustrated.

"If I cut them off completely, the ports shut down and the suppliers panic.

If I wait, the debt compounds and they bleed me slowly."

A pause.

"Either way, it's inefficient."

He exhales, sharp and controlled. "There has to be a third option."

I speak without even thinking. "You're looking at it from the front."

The man turns sharply, and puts off his phone. I nearly retreat but continue, figuring I'd already started.

"You don't have to cut them off or wait. You just reroute the pressure."

He's watching me now and his voice is clipped when he says. "Explain."

I swallow hard. "You let them think the ports are safe. Then you squeeze their insurers, not their suppliers. Once the insurance collapses, the suppliers abandon them on their own."

There's silence and I think he's going to reprimand me before he lets out a slow breath, and says. "You'd cause a collapse without leaving fingerprints."

I nod. "Exactly. They'd ruin themselves."

He doesn't praise me. He just studies me like I'm a weapon. "Where did you learn that?"

I hesitate. Should I tell him I was forced to learn how to tactic in such situations. I shrug. "You learn things when you're not important enough to be noticed."

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Someone the Virelli household wouldn't miss."

I inwardly slap myself. You fool! He would catch on that you're trying to escape and he would tell on you! But to my surprise, he doesn't even react. He glances at my necklace instead. "That's beautiful."

I blink. "Thank you."

I start to collect my books, heart racing. This is it. I'm starting over. I want, just once, to do something for myself.

"How does sex feel?" I ask suddenly, surprising even myself, and the man stills.

"Depends."

I hum, remembering all the items I used to clean up after Anya and her boy toys. She always seemed to be in a good mood after 'sex' and that made me want to...

"I want to experience it," I say. "As a favor to myself."

He lets out a soft laugh. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do."

"Do you even know who I am?"

I pause, then shake my head. "No but I don't want to. Don't you want to feel that thrill of not knowing who you're about to share something intimate with?"

He steps closer and his green eyes glints wickedly under the moonlight seeping into the room. I bite my lip, suddenly nervous.

"I suppose I do"

The first kiss surprises me. My heart races as he leans in, and our lips meet in a deep kiss. His mouth is warm and demanding, tongue sliding against mine. I melt into it, loving the taste of him, the way his lips press firm and hungry. I want more, pulling him closer every time he tries to break away, my body aching for that connection.

We kiss again, harder, my hands clutching his shirt as his fingers trails down my side. "Cara," he whispers against my lips, his voice low and knowing, sending a thrill through me. Even though that wasn't my name, I didn't care. I kiss him back fiercely, savouring the heat building between us. His hand slip under my skirt, pushing aside my panties. I gasp into his mouth as his fingers find my pussy, already wet and ready.

He circles my clit slowly at first, then dips one finger inside me, stretching my virgin tightness. I moan, breaking the kiss only to dive back in, needing his lips on mine. His finger pumps in and out, adding a second, curling to hit a particular spot that makes my legs shake. Pleasure builds fast, my hips bucking against his hand. I cum hard, my pussy clenching around his fingers, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I kiss him desperately through it.

"Cara, you're so tight". He murmurs, withdrawing his fingers. I whimper, wanting it more now. I don't even know what I wanted. He unzips his pants, his hard cock springing free. I stare, now very nervous, and he pulls me into another kiss as he lifts my leg, positioning himself at my entrance.

"There's no going back, you know". He whispers against my lips. I bite them and nod vigorously.

"Do it."

Elara's POV,

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, breaking my hymen with a sharp sting that faded into fullness. I cry out softly, but kiss him deeper, loving the way he's filling me.

He starts to thrust, steady and deep, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy. The library's quiet amplified every wet slap and gasp. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him nonstop, our tongues tangling as pleasure rebuilt. My second orgasm hit suddenly, my walls squeezing his cock, milking him as I tremble against him.

He doesn't stop, pounding harder now, one hand gripping my ass and the other fondling my breasts. "Cara, come for me again." He growls.

And I do, the third climax ripping through me, my pussy pulsing wildly around him. He groans, thrusting deep one last time before pulling out and cumming inside me.

He rests his forehead on mine and I reach up to kiss him again. But he chuckles and kiss my cheek, "When you leave, ensure to take birth control"

I promise him. For the first time, I feel chosen and wanted. He dresses up quietly, arranges my hair and asks me to wait.

But immediately he leaves, I dress quickly, heart pounding, and leave without looking back.

~~

By morning, I create a new identity, buy a ticket and fly to Spain.

I cut my red hair short and dye it blonde, buy thick glasses, an apartment and clothes that belong to me.

The next day, I walk into my new college, pulse as steady as ever in my life.

"Name?" the administrator asks.

I smile.

"Elara Solis."

And just like that-I am free.

~~

The old woman smells faintly of dust. She squints at the book in her hands, fingers trembling as she flips the pages too quickly, missing the words she's trying to read.

"Take your time," I say softly, even though I was already frustrated. "There's no rush."

She smiles at me like I'm a blessing and then the doors burst open.

"Noemi," I mutter under my breath.

She storms in like a hurricane, phone pressed to her ear, and voice booming. She's yelling about something, gesturing wildly as if the person on the other end of the call can see her.

"I told you already, I am NOT doing this again-"

I close my eyes, exasperated. All eyes were on her, irritated, but she didn't even care. The peace and silence was ruined.

I gently guide the old woman toward the desk and whisper that I'll be right back, then march straight toward my very loud friend.

I grab her wrist and drag her outside as she keeps talking the entire time. When she finally hangs up, she beams.

"Elara! Baby!"

She pulls me into a hug and I shrink away instantly.

"Oh. Right." She laughs. "Forgot that you're highly allergic to hugs."

"Yes," I say dryly. "And noise. Which begs the question-why are you disturbing the peace of my library?"

She scoffs. "It's my boyfriend again. He's being an asshole."

I roll my eyes. It's always her boyfriend.

"Why not dump him?"

She grins. "Only because he has the most delicious ass. And oh...best sex ever."

I cringe but my mind betrays me, drifting to a blurred memory from five years ago. Suddenly my neck was hot.

Noemi clicks her tongue. "Too bad your husband's dead and you've sworn off men. You'd understand me."

I give her a tight-lipped smile and pull out my phone.

"How's the project coming along?" I ask.

She shrugs and plops onto the bench.

"You've done your part. Let me do mine. I promise it'll be the best among the best."

"If only you'd focus on the actual project instead of how legendary it'll be"

We both turn as a familiar irritated voice cuts in.

"If you spent half as much time working as you do yelling, you'd be top of the class," Camilla says.

The black-haired menace stands there with a Birkin bag in one hand and three phones in the other, looking like the absolute Queen of whatever world she lived in.

"Fuck you, Camilla," Noemi snaps. "And get lost. I'm talking to my coursemate."

"Elara would've done so much better in law with me," Camilla mutters, with an eye roll.

They start bickering immediately and I tune them out to look around instinctively.

Camilla notices and thrusts her car keys in my face. "He's sleeping in the car."

Without a word, I run to her car.

~~

I open the car door to see my baby boy is curled up in the back seat, lashes resting against his cheeks, breathing soft and even. My heart melts like it does every time.

I kiss his forehead and his eyes flutter open.

"Mama?" he murmurs. "Aunt Camilla fought another teacher today. It was so funny."

I chuckle quietly. "I'm going to have to restrict your relationship with Aunt Camilla."

He laughs and slips his small, chubby hand into mine.

And I close my eyes, remembering.

FIVE YEARS AGO

Carla and I were in the kitchen, laughing about something stupid. It had been three weeks since I met Noemi, since she dragged me home and introduced me to her mother like she'd known me all her life.

Carla was warmth personified. A mother I never had but I made sure not to get attached.

Then I threw up.

Three times.

Carla frowned. "You should take a pregnancy test."

I laughed it off.

"Your husband just died," she said gently. "It's possible."

I didn't feel guilty for lying. They could never know because that life? It was gone.

We watched the test together. I prayed to every god I didn't believe in.

Two lines appeared.

I smiled and pretended joy. I pretended to be shocked and happy.

But that night, alone, I cried.

I cried and considered killing the baby and then claiming a miscarriage.

I just wanted to erase the last tie to a past I ran from.

I placed my hand on my abdomen, whispering to the little creature, "I'm so sorry. I just can't do this..."

The memory fades, and I squeeze Asher's hand gently.

I don't know what made me keep him. Maybe I needed proof that I could survive.

And so I named him Asher. My light. The only thing I would die for. Second to none.

That night, after I put him to bed, I stepped into my room and exhaled.

Then I open my laptop, and I become someone else.

My father didn't teach me the dark side of the web for nothing. And so, I slip into the Virelli databases like a ghost.

Their numbers fall, and their accounts bleed.

And every time their financial status drops, I smile.

Oh, how victorious it feels.

How deserved.

Elara's POV,

The lobby is massive.

Glass walls stretch endlessly upward, marble floors polished, chandeliers hanging and blinding every eye. Everything about the building screams excess.

Noemi gasps beside me.

"Oh my God," she says, spinning in a slow circle. "Elara, this place is insane. INSANE. This is the kind of company people sell their souls to work in."

I glance around once, unimpressed.

"Really?" I murmur. "How nice."

She doesn't hear the sarcasm. Noemi rarely does.

I know exactly why this place exists. This building wasn't constructed for business. It was built for ego.

Anya's ego.

My sister always loved excess. Loved being seen and loved proving she belonged in rooms she had no business standing in. Of course the Kòrvacs would build something like this for her. A monument to power and possession.

But I applied anyway because it was perfect.

Before I left that life, and disappeared into another country, I knew one thing: the Kòrvacs wanted a marriage contract with the Virellis. And Anya - sweet, cruel Anya - had married the Don himself.

Lucien Kòrvac.

While Noemi gushes about floor-to-ceiling windows and executive elevators, I smile to myself.

"Indeed," I say. "It's perfect."

~ ~

The interview room is even colder than the lobby.

Four people sit across from me. Two women and two men.

One of them doesn't need an introduction.

Lucien Kòrvac.

Worldwide CEO. Billionaire. Visionary. Public icon. Privately, Don of a Mafia dynasty.

I recognize him instantly. I mean, he has the kind of presence that doesn't need to announce itself to dominate a room. And fucking hell, he is handsome.

He doesn't look at me, not really. His gaze skims me for barely three seconds before shifting away, as though I'm as interesting as a sock.

That infuriates me more than it should.

I straighten my spine.

I'm here for the Sales Manager position, and my résumé is flawless. The years of experience, metrics that speak louder than charm and results that can't be argued with.

All they needed now was my oral professionalism.

The questions come quickly.

Market expansion strategies. Client retention. Risk mitigation. Leadership philosophy.

I answer calmly, precisely and wisely. I watch the panel exchange glances and know they are impressed. Engaged, even.

Lucien just remains silent, detached and uninterested. Until the last question.

"All right," one of the women says, smiling politely. "One final question."

"Our European expansion is underperforming. Revenue is stable, but client retention dropped 17% in six months. Marketing says pricing and finance says logistics. But I don't care who's right. If I gave you ninety days, what would you fix first?"

All of them look at me, expectant. I know they're testing my strategic thinking and forcing me to pick a side. I calmly inhale and answer,

"None of those."

Lucien looks up, they exchange looks. So I explain.

"You don't have a pricing problem. You have a trust gap. Your sales cycle is too short for your product value, and your representatives are closing deals before relationships form. Clients don't leave because it's expensive, they leave because they feel sold to, not partnered with."

A pause.

"I'd slow the process down."

They start murmuring. That's an insane answer but I and they knew it works.

"Slower means less revenue." I look Lucien who replied. His voice.

"Only short-term. In six months, your referrals double and your churn halves.

Right now, you're winning contracts but you're losing loyalty."

"If you're wrong, it's on you, Solis." Lucien leans forward, his eyes cold and indifferent.

I answer, "I wouldn't have answered if I wasn't so sure"

"Where did you learn that?" he asks and I roll my eyes inwardly.

"I study a lot," I say smoothly. "And I'm good at what I do. Not to brag."

"And yet," he replies flatly, "here you are, doing just that."

I bite my tongue, hard. How childish.

Instead of snapping, I laugh lightly, like he's made the funniest joke in the room. He narrows his eyes, studying me. Finally he says, dismissively.

"You'll do."

You'll do?!

Like I'm a chair or...or something he picked off a shelf to fill space in his palace.

Anya truly was his perfect match.

~ ~

I resume work the following week.

And immediately, I begin.

I move through the company like a quiet storm. Redirecting resources, reassigning budgets, and dissolving contracts under the guise of restructuring.

Their money disappears and information leaks. Partnerships crumble and no one suspects a thing.

Because I'm excellent at my job.

I lead flawlessly. My team respects me. And I deliver results just enough to keep the company standing while bleeding it.

I don't waste words and don't soften reprimands. I don't pretend to care because I didn't.

I was aware people called me stoic, controlled and upright. But I was efficient.

I let the company rot while ensuring it never fully collapses.

During one meeting, I pass by a group of coworkers whispering near the glass corridor.

"They say the CEO's furious," one of them murmurs.

"Someone's been leaking information," another adds. "Stealing. Big amounts."

I smile inwardly, but then stop and turn to them.

"How about instead of worrying about useless gossip, you work hard enough that the money being stolen is nothing but a speck of dust."

They scurry away without a word and I scoff.

If the CEO's running mad, he'd soon hold an investigation.

Except they can never catch me. I'm good at what I do, after all.

~ ~

Rain crashes against the glass and I frown. My car chose today of all days to betray me, sputtering once before dying completely in the parking lot. Camilla is out of town, unreachable, and so I stand by the window, phone pressed to my ear, watching the city blur under sheets of rain.

"Please," I tell Noemi, keeping my voice even. "Just pick Asher up from school. I'll owe you."

There's a dramatic sigh on the other end. "Elara, you'll owe me big time. BIG. It's raining like the heavens are angry."

"I'll buy you dinner for a month."

She replies almost immediately. "Say less. I'm on my way."

I end the call, exhaling softly.

The office is almost empty now so I'm surprised when I hear a voice too close.

"You don't look like someone who's married."

I turn slowly, forcing my expression into something neutral and polite. Lucien Kòrvac stands beside me, hands in his pockets and suit immaculate.

"You don't even act like a mother," he adds coolly.

I force a smile so tight it almost hurts.

"Season's greetings, boss."

He arches a brow. "It's the middle of May."

I lift two fingers in a lazy salute. "I am joyous and filled with festivities all year round."

For a second, I think I see something flicker across his face-amusement, maybe irritation. But then it's gone.

"I didn't see 'married' in your status," he says, eyes dropping briefly to my hand to see it bare. "Or 'widowed.'"

I follow his gaze before looking back up.

"My husband's dead," I lie easily. "Been dead for five years."

I don't know what to expect. Sympathy, discomfort, even an awkward apology.

But Lucien gives me none of that. He just grunts, unimpressed, and turns to leave.

Something in me snaps.

"How's your wife?" I ask instinctively.

He pauses and slowly turns back.

"What do you mean?"

I shrug, light and careless. "As handsome as you are, boss, you don't expect me to believe you aren't married."

I grin so wide and outrageous. He visibly recoils, making me want to laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I'm not," he says flatly. "Solis."

Then he walks away.

I stare after him, my jaw tightening. Liar.

That night, his words won't leave me alone.

I tuck Asher into bed, kiss his forehead, wait until his breathing evens out and open my laptop.

Lucien Kòrvac might've lied. Hell, everyone lies.

But the computer never lies.

And when the truth finally loads onto my screen, my breath catches.

"What the actual fuck...?"?