Billionaire Contract Wife: Eight Months in His Cage
"Be my wife for eight months and I will save you from this hell. But if you fall in love with me? I will destroy you."
She wasn't sold for a price. She was lost in a bet.
A dark deal made in the shadows between a father who sold his own daughter without thinking twice and the man who runs the Blackwood empire. The CEO who doesn't just own money. He owns the city. He owns the law. He owns the men and their fates.
She was just a normal designer until she became his wife on paper. A wife to a man who knows no mercy. A man who never loses a deal. A man who refuses to let the woman carrying his name be weak.
Eight months. A marriage with no love. Strict rules. Forbidden feelings.
But what happens when the deal turns into a deep hunger? What happens when the contract becomes a cage? What happens when she finds out that running away from her father put her in the trap of a man who is a thousand times more dangerous?
Her father sold her in a bet. And her only escape was the man who owns the city.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 1
Eleanor Vance POV
I leaned my body down. My cold fingertips touched the glass bottles scattered all over the floor. The air smelled like rot and stale beer. These bottles were everywhere, lying right next to my father's body on the ground. He was drunk. Just like he has been every single day since the day I was born.
I sighed. My soul felt heavy. I had seen this same scene for too many years. He comes home drunk at dawn after spending the night in some dirty East End bar. He drinks and he plays his favorite game. He gambles. He bets with my hard earned money.
He comes home too weak to walk. The living room becomes his bed. He finishes his bottles and ends up passing out. His mind and body are just gone.
I did what I always do. I cleaned up his mess before going to work. I made sure to leave some cash for him. I had to. If I didn't, I would have to deal with the consequences. He would slap my face, or my little sister's face, or do something even worse.
I made breakfast for my sister Ivy. Then I stepped out of our humble house in the East End of London.
I caught a black cab. I told the driver the address of the company in Canary Wharf. He dropped me off after a while in the middle of the cold morning mist.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I sat at my desk. I was early. My work starts at nine, and it was only eight thirty. I took my things out of my bag and cleaned the mess on my desk. Papers were everywhere. Once I finished, I started working on my designs from last night.
The hours went by fast. I was so busy. I looked at the clock on the wall and realized my shift was over. I stood up and stretched. My body ached. I had spent so many hours sitting in that chair. I poured all my skills into those building designs on the paper in front of me. I also helped my coworkers here and there. Some of them even praised my new work.
I cleaned up my mess this time and left the office. While walking down the hall, my boss, Mrs. Adelaide, stopped me. She was smiling.
"Good evening, Miss Vance."
"Good evening, Mrs. Adelaide. How are you?"
I smiled back at her. She patted my shoulder.
"I am fine, Eleanor. Thank you for asking. Did you hear about the party tonight?"
I nodded. "Yes, I heard a moment ago. A coworker told me."
"Good! I will see you at the party in Mayfair. Don't be late!"
I promised her I would be there. I gave her a polite bow and went to the elevator. It was a long, tiring day. I didn't get enough sleep. I have been struggling with insomnia for a while now.
When I reached the ground floor, I walked outside. I looked for a taxi, but I couldn't find one. Cars are rare at this time. I had to walk quite a distance in the light rain. Finally, I reached the bus stop.
After a while, the bus came. I sat in a seat at the very back. I closed my eyes. It felt like heaven. Nothing feels better than resting after a hard day when all your energy is gone.
The moment I stepped into my neighborhood, I froze. A crowd of neighbors was standing in front of my door. They were shouting about something.
"What on earth is happening?"
I ran toward the house. I prayed to God that my father hadn't woken up. I prayed he wasn't hurting my sister while I was away. He does that a lot.
I rushed inside. My heart was pounding. I saw the scene and I was shocked. My sister Ivy was on the floor. Her right cheek was bright red from my father's hand. Her lip was bleeding. He was raising his hand again. He was going to hit her other cheek without any mercy.
I threw my bag away. I rushed to my sister and hugged her. I covered her body from him. I wanted to protect her. My eyes filled with tears. I was so scared of what would happen next.
"Move."
He spoke quietly. He looked at me with a mean smile. He waited for me to obey. I shook my head fast. I wiped my tears. I refused to get up and leave Ivy.
He growled. He tried to pull me away by force. I held onto Ivy. She was crying so hard in my arms. I held her tight because I didn't want her to fall into his violent hands.
He stepped back. He cursed at us. His eyes were full of anger and hate because I didn't listen. He gritted his teeth and hissed at me.
"Fine then. You take the hits instead."
As soon as he said that, he kicked me. He used his heavy boot on my back. I screamed in pain. My nails dug into my palms while I held Ivy. I was terrified. I was hurting.
He kicked me many times. He did it for a long time. He even stepped on my foot and crushed it! My left hand was hurt too. He took all his anger out on me. I could only cry. I rubbed Ivy's back while she screamed in terror. We were helpless. We couldn't fight this monster.
When he was done and tired, he stepped away. He was breathing fast. He looked around the room like a crazy man. He was looking for something. Then he saw it.
My bag.
He ran to it. He dumped everything on the floor. He didn't care about anything but my wallet. He grabbed it with a sick smile.
"He is truly insane!"
He looked down at us. He spat on the floor next to us. He hissed with hate before leaving.
"Whores."
The door slammed shut. Ivy collapsed. She cried loudly in my arms. She kept saying she was sorry. My eyes filled with tears again. I cried with her in silence. I rubbed her back and whispered that everything would be okay.
That lie only made her cry harder. I was always the one who got hit. I always tried to keep her safe from him. I tried to hide her or give him the money he loves so much.
But somehow, he always finds a way to get to her when I am not there. When I can't protect her.
I wiped my tears. I used a cloth to wipe Ivy's eyes. When she calmed down, I helped her stand up. We walked to our shared bedroom.
I told her to take a warm bath. I wanted her to relax. I wanted her to forget what just happened. I had to beg her. She didn't want to leave me. She kept crying and saying sorry.
Once she went into the bathroom, I laid down on the bed. I sighed loudly. My mind and heart were heavy. Every muscle in my body was throbbing with pain. I was just struggling to stay alive.
I looked up at the ceiling. Tears fell from my eyes. I hugged myself. I curled up into a ball. I wanted to find a place to hide from my thoughts and my miserable life. I let out quiet sobs. I had hidden them before because I didn't want Ivy to hear me.
I stayed like that for a long time. Finally, I fell asleep without even knowing it.
You may also like
8.7
Brought back from a humble life in Montana, Nora found out she was the true biological heiress of the ultra-wealthy Beaumont family.
But her biological parents didn't love her; they loved the fake daughter, Olivia, much more.
The moment she arrived, her father pushed an engagement termination agreement across his massive desk, forcing her to give up her wealthy fiancé so Olivia could have him.
Her mother looked at her with pure disdain.
"You should know your place. Don't reach for things that were never meant for you."
To break her spirit, they moved her into a cramped, dusty servant's room. They even ordered the butler to feed her cold kitchen scraps and gristle.
They wanted to humiliate her, to make her feel like a piece of trash rather than a daughter.
They expected her to cry, to beg, and to be absolutely crushed by the realization that her own flesh and blood saw her only as a liability to their reputation.
They thought the country girl would easily fold under their united front of cruelty.
But Nora felt no sting of betrayal, only the calculating clarity of a chess player.
She calmly signed the paper, pulled out the Beaumont family trust rules, and looked them dead in the eye.
"Since I am the legal heir, I demand what belongs to me. I'm taking the master bedroom."
7.3
Ella Hart was adopted into a wealthy household, but she never lived like a daughter.
While her adoptive mother, Nora, indulged in luxury and high society, Ella was treated like little more than a servant, forced to do the hardest chores and surviving on scraps of affection.
Until the day her biological family finally found her and brought a shocking revelation.
Years ago, the Hart family had arranged a marriage alliance with the Sterling family. The bride was meant to be either Ella... or her beloved sister, Piper.
That day, the impossibly handsome man arrived in worn-out clothes. He was instantly rejected by Piper.
To escape her old life, Ella agreed without hesitation, but she would never have imagined the man in front of her was the richest CEO in the city...
9.4
Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you."
9.8
My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant.
I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care.
Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient.
When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband.
He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter.
When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust.
I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child.
When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face.
"You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away."
He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back.
His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated.
They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive.
They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money.
I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call.
Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg.
Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke.
"Welcome back to the throne, Madam."
9.5
I married Clive Harrington, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan, under a strict contract that forbade any emotional burdens. When I needed a high-risk surgery to save my sight, I checked into the clinic alone, hiding the procedure from a husband who saw me as nothing more than a legal asset.
I thought I could handle the darkness in silence. But while I was blind and bandaged in my hospital bed, my biological mother called, screaming that if I didn't produce a Harrington heir by the end of the fiscal year, she would cut off the life-saving treatments for my disabled sister.
I was crawling on the cold hospital floor, desperately feeling for a cane I had dropped, when I touched a pair of expensive leather shoes. It was Clive. He was supposed to be in London closing a multi-million dollar deal, but there he was, watching his "contract wife" groveling in the dark like a beggar.
He didn't walk away in disgust. He carried me to a five-thousand-dollar-a-night VIP suite and sat by my bed, listening in chilling silence as another voicemail from my mother filled the room, calling me a "useless broodmare" who was only worth the trust fund disbursements my marriage secured.
I expected him to remind me of Clause 34B or hand me divorce papers now that I was "damaged goods." Instead, I felt his thumb brush a stray tear from my cheek, his presence shifting from a statue of ice into a predatory shield.
"I thought I was just currency to you," I whispered, my voice trembling behind the gauze. "Just an investment."
Clive didn't answer with words. He picked up his phone and called his head of legal with a single, terrifying command: "Kill the Douglas family’s credit lines. Every debt, every lien—trigger them all. If they want a war, I’ll give them a massacre."
As he leaned down to kiss my bandaged forehead, I realized the contract was dead. My husband wasn't protecting an asset anymore; he was hunting the people who had dared to touch what belonged to him.
9.4
Vera thought her life was over the moment she caught her fiancee cheating with his ex.
Broken and filled with pain, she is approached by a billionaire who presents a simple contract to her. Let's get married.
Sylas Gold is the man admired by the entire world. He is untouchable, powerful and incredibly controlled. Their marriage was supposed to be a contract. A performance. It was a way for both of them to win.
When Vera is kidnapped by a man who looks at her like she's already his, she learns the truth Sylas never told her, about his mafia empire, the blood, and the brother who was supposed to be gone.
Cassian Gold is the man who wants everything his brother has, including Vera.
Now caught between two brothers bound by hatred, power, and obsession, Vera must decide who to trust in a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is fragile, and desire might just be her downfall.