The Billionaire's Contract for Revenge

a bottle of painkillers that did little to numb the throbbing ache in my bones or the gaping void where my future used to be. Every jostle of the taxi ride back to my-to *our*

rol.* The words were a death knell for the artist, the architect, the dreamer in me. My hands were my life, my

air smelling of wet pavement and damp earth. I paid the driver with my left hand, a clumsy, awkward

ts leather corner scuffed. My favorite worn armchair, the one I'd found at a flea market and lovingly restored, was sitting beside them

ith Mark for five years, the home I had paid for, and slid my key into the lock. It wouldn't tu

had been

hospital bed. I leaned my forehead against the cold wood of the door, the finality of it all crashing down on me. I had lost my love, my home,

bag of salvaged belongings I'd managed to drag from the trash, and enveloped me in a hug that smelled of lavender and fierce, unwavering

out what my first step would be, there was a sharp knock at Sophie'

asked, his voice

es

k manila envelope.

ff: Julian Thorne. The defendant: Clara Evans. The amount he was suing me for was staggering, a figure with so many zeros it looked like a typo.

s a signed witness stat

d been driving erratically, that I had been emotionally distraught and yelling at him just before the crash. He painted me as unstab

f Thorne Industries' legal team, I didn't stand a chance. I had no money, no home, no allies. I was completely and utterly co

esent myself at the headquarters of Thorne Industries at 3:00 PM sharp. Failure to appear

avern of polished marble and hushed reverence. The air smelled of money-a sterile, clean scent mixed with the faint aroma of expensive leather from the minimalist fur

allows. Julian Thorne's office was larger than my entire apartment. One entire wall was a floor-t

dn't turn around immediately, letting the silence stretch, letting me feel the full weight of his power and

is voice a low rumble.

ahogany desk. I sat, my back ramrod straight, my heart hammeri

een us feeling like a chasm. He slid a single, thick document a

page read: *Prenuptial

. Confusion warred with fear. This had

nd," I whispered,

r leaving my face. "My family has certain... expectations. A pressing need for a marriage has arisen due to a stipulat

to my family. You were the driver in an accident that has potentially ruined my brother's promising musical

w, methodically demolishing

ontinued, his voice dropping to a deadly quiet.

he perfect image of a devoted wife for a period of one year. In return, I will do two things. First, I will drop the lawsuit that would otherwise see you bankrupted and like

my mind reeling. This was insane. It was barbaric. It was a choice

se?" I managed

y, "I will not only proceed with the lawsuit, but I will personally ensure that the district attorney pursues criminal charges. I will

, predatory power. "The choice is yours, Ms. Eva

It was a lifeline and a noose, all in one. My entire world had been reduced to this

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