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 6
Eleanor Vance POV
My eyes froze on the bodies sprawled in front of me.
The men my father had sent.
Their faces were carved with expressions so brutal, so vicious, that mercy had no place in them at all.
My hand trembled where it rested against President Julian Blackwood's chest.
I could feel his heartbeat, steady and powerful beneath my palm.
I had placed my hand there earlier to push him away.
Instead of pulling back now, I clung to him harder, my fingers tightening in the fabric of his suit jacket.
After watching the intruders with sharp focus, like a hawk tracking its prey, his gaze returned to me.
More precisely, to my hand gripping him.
I did not know what to do anymore.
I was stuck in the middle.
Trapped between his overwhelming solidity and their predatory stares.
Looks wrapped in deceit and filth.
Smiles that devoured me in disgusting silence.
If I accepted his offer of marriage, I would be tearing myself out of my own life.
Handing over my freedom to the Blackwood family willingly.
Becoming nothing more than owned property.
No choice.
No will.
As if I had never been anything but a prize already decided in their dirty deals.
And if I refused, if I surrendered to the fate my father had stitched together with money and prostitution, then I would be nothing but a doll tossed into their hands.
A whore sold and bought to satisfy their filthy desires.
Either way, my life would be stolen.
Crushed under a destiny I never chose.
I wiped my face harshly, forcing back my tears, then lifted my eyes to meet his.
They were already on me.
I had been lost in thought, drowning in the trap I was stuck in, while his calm eyes moved over my features in eerie silence.
It made my scalp prickle.
Suddenly, he pulled his body away from mine.
His feet no longer touching mine.
A sharp emptiness hit me.
Cold.
Was he leaving me behind?
Leaving me to them?
I grabbed his jacket desperately, my fist twisting the fabric until my knuckles went white.
"Wait... don't leave me."
The words came out as a whisper, full of raw pleading.
My eyes held everything except comfort.
The men in front of me made me dizzy.
My breathing tightened under their gazes.
Their eyes tore into me like starving beasts.
He shifted, placing his broad back in front of me.
Hiding me behind his shoulders.
A solid wall blocking the burning stares aimed my way.
In a calm, steady voice, he whispered with quiet confidence,
"I won't."
Even though his words loosened the tight knot in my chest and eased my stiff muscles, I did not let go.
I gripped him even harder.
In that moment, he was the only one protecting me.
I made my choice.
Better to give myself to him than be dragged into that filthy world where my will would be erased and I would be reduced to a body sold for their pleasure.
"I agree. Just get me out of here. Please."
Julian turned, looking straight into my eyes.
His stare was steady.
Deep.
He leaned closer, slowly, until the warmth of his breath, heavy with the scent of tobacco, brushed my face.
A cold, confident smirk curved his lips before he spoke in a low voice, heavy with control and force.
"I was going to take you out whether you agreed or not. But now that you said it yourself... you are mine. Until your very last breath."
His words burned.
Like fire tearing through my chest without mercy.
Something sharp twisted inside me.
A strange sting.
As if I had submitted to a power I could no longer escape.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
My breath caught.
The air around me felt different.
Heavier.
Deeper.
Saturated with his presence as it closed around me with no way out.
I stepped back without thinking.
His hand shot out instantly, closing around my wrist with unshakable strength.
Stopping me from escaping even half a step.
His rough grip left a mark on my soft skin.
"Don't try to pull away now."
His voice was calm, but strong.
His eyes bound me tighter than his hand ever could.
In that moment, I knew it.
From that second on, I belonged to him.
Whether I wanted it or not.
His gaze traced every inch of my face, steady and unblinking, his hand still wrapped around my wrist, fingers large and unyielding.
Then he turned again, placing his back in front of me as he faced them, his eyes sharp.
"What do you want?"
His voice rang through the space, cold and commanding, his gaze sweeping over the faces present with terrifying calm.
He took a deep drag from his cigarette, then exhaled the smoke slowly in front of them.
As if giving them extra seconds to understand his absolute dominance.
I peeked out carefully from behind him, moving slowly until I reached the side of his right arm, watching the situation with fear.
One of them cleared his throat.
A man with hard features, clearly their leader, spoke in a strained voice.
"We came to take her."
He pointed at me.
I immediately ducked back behind Mr. Blackwood, pressing myself into him.
Okay... that was terrifying.
"Who is she?"
Mr. Blackwood asked calmly, his eyes moving between the tense faces and the room around us.
I frowned in disbelief.
Hello?
I am right here.
There is no other woman here, Julian.
The man frowned.
"Eleanor Vance. The girl behind you."
Julian let out a short, sharp laugh.
Cold.
Mocking.
Like a gunshot.
It vanished just as quickly, replaced by a hard line of seriousness.
"You mean Eleanor. My wife."
My breath stopped.
My wife?!
How dare he call me that?
I was not his wife yet.
"Your wife?"
The man echoed in shock.
I could not blame him.
"So, what exactly do you want from my wife?"
"We don't care if she's married or not. We're taking her either way."
My heart pounded violently.
His words shook me to my core.
My fingers trembled against Mr. Blackwood's back as the man added,
"Then come and take her."
He said it calmly.
Too calmly.
My grip loosened.
Pain crushed my chest.
I stepped back until my spine hit the wall.
My breath shook.
But Julian only leaned against the wall beside him.
Relaxed.
Smoking.
Waiting.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
The man advanced, confident.
Victorious.
The moment he passed Julian, everything changed.
Julian moved.
A steel grip closed around the man's neck.
A sharp strike.
Bone cracked.
The body dropped.
Still.
I gasped, hands flying to my mouth, staring at the unmoving form on the floor.
He had not abandoned me.
He had been hunting.
Julian crouched, checking the pulse.
No emotion.
No hesitation.
Then he said, flat and cold,
"He's dead."
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
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.