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Bound By Contract To The Secret Tycoon Novel Cover

Bound By Contract To The Secret Tycoon

To escape my greedy stepmother, I signed a marriage contract with a cold, rigid construction manager, expecting a miserable life of poverty. But the moment the ink dried, I realized I had severely misjudged the man I just married. He wasn't a broke blue-collar worker. He lived in a multi-million-dollar penthouse, spoke flawless business French, and cooked gourmet meals while forbidding me from doing chores. Most bizarrely, he dodged my physical touch like it was a live wire. He gave me a massive separate bedroom. When a speeding bike nearly hit me on the street, he yanked me to safety, only to violently shove himself away a second later, seemingly terrified of holding a woman. I decided to test him, stating I wanted to delay having children for our fake marriage. "I will respect your wishes entirely and shield you from my family," he answered perfectly. The puzzle pieces snapped together in my mind. The immaculate apartment, the commanding presence, the absolute refusal to be intimate. I was absolutely certain: my wealthy fake husband was gay, and I was just his beard. Relieved that I wouldn't have to sleep with a stranger, I happily relaxed into my new role as his supportive best friend. But as elite job offers mysteriously began landing in my inbox, I started to realize my "gay" husband was hiding a much deeper, far more dangerous obsession.
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Chapter 2

Chloe sat in the back of the Audi, watching the city streets blur past the tinted window. The heater blasted warm air against her frozen legs. The car eventually turned onto a familiar, cracked driveway and came to a stop.

She pushed the heavy door open, stepped out into the cold, and waved awkwardly to the driver. She turned and walked up the concrete path to the suburban house. The paint on the porch railing was peeling.

She pulled her house key from her pocket and shoved it into the lock. Before she could turn it, the sound of Brenda's shrill voice pierced through the thin wood of the door.

Chloe pushed the door open. She stepped into the living room and froze.

Cardboard boxes were stacked waist-high across the carpet. Her winter coats, her books, and her cheap shoes were crammed into the open flaps.

Brenda ended her phone call and spun around. When she saw Chloe, a wide, synthetic smile stretched across her face.

"Well? Did you get it done?" Brenda asked, taking a step forward.

Chloe unzipped her tote bag. She pulled out the marriage certificate and held it up for two seconds before shoving it back in.

Brenda's eyes lit up. The greed in her expression made Chloe's stomach twist.

"Perfect," Brenda said. She pointed a manicured finger at the boxes. "I went ahead and packed your things. You can move out today."

Chloe's throat tightened. "You could not wait one single day?"

"Newlyweds need to build their bond," Brenda said, waving a hand in the air. "Besides, Caleb needs the extra space for his gaming setup. Your old room is perfect for it."

Chloe stepped toward the boxes. She reached out to check a carton labeled 'fragile', terrified Brenda had thrown her late mother's ceramic mugs in without wrapping them.

Brenda slapped her hand away. "Don't unpack now. You will just make a mess."

Brenda pulled her phone from her apron pocket. She tapped the screen a few times and held it to her ear. Right in front of Chloe, she booked a U-Haul truck for immediate pickup.

A cold wave of anger washed over Chloe. Her chest heaved. She turned her back on her stepmother and walked up the carpeted stairs to her old bedroom.

The room was stripped bare. The posters were gone. The bedsheets were stripped.

Chloe dropped to her knees. She reached under the bed frame, her fingers brushing against the dusty floorboards, until she felt the cold metal of an old iron cookie tin. She dragged it out. Inside was three hundred dollars in cash and her high school diaries. It was everything she had left in the world.

She shoved the tin into her backpack, zipped it shut, and stood up. She did not look back.

A loud honk echoed from the street. The U-Haul had arrived.

Chloe walked downstairs. Brenda hovered near the door, offering to carry a box. Chloe ignored her, bent down, and hoisted the heaviest carton of books into her arms.

She carried the box out the front door, the wind biting at her cheeks, and shoved it into the back of the truck.

Brenda walked down the driveway. She pulled a wad of cash from her pocket and handed it to the U-Haul driver.

"Keep the change," Brenda said loudly.

Chloe stared at the transaction. Brenda was notoriously cheap. The fact that she was willing to pay for the moving truck just to get Chloe off the property felt like a physical slap to the face.

Chloe slammed the back door of the truck shut. She walked around to the passenger side and climbed into the cab.

The engine roared to life. Chloe looked in the side mirror as the truck pulled away. The old suburban house shrank into the distance. The tight band around her chest finally snapped. She was free.

"Where to?" the driver asked, chewing on a toothpick.

Chloe pulled the card Harrison had given her from her pocket. She read the address out loud.

The driver let out a low whistle. "That is a pricey zip code, lady."

Chloe frowned. She looked out the window as the truck merged onto the highway. Harrison was a project manager. How could he afford rent in a high-end district? She assumed he must be terrible with his finances, blowing his paycheck on a flashy address.

The scenery outside changed. The strip malls faded, replaced by towering glass facades and manicured sidewalks. Luxury sedans lined the streets.

The U-Haul turned a corner and stopped in front of a massive, steel-and-glass apartment building. A large fountain bubbled near the entrance.

A security guard in a tailored uniform saw the rusted U-Haul and immediately marched toward the driver's window, raising his hand to shoo them away.

Chloe rolled down her window. Her palms were sweating. "I am here for Harrison Montgomery. Apartment 4501."

The guard stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled a tablet from his belt, tapped the screen, and his posture instantly shifted. He stood up straight and pointed toward the loading dock with extreme politeness.

"Right this way, ma'am. I will open the service gates for you."

Chloe blinked, momentarily stunned by the rapid 180-degree turn in his attitude. The transition from hostility to extreme hospitality was jarring. She swallowed hard, guessing that Harrison must have called ahead to register her arrival, or perhaps the property management here was just trained to be incredibly dramatic to avoid complaints from tenants.

Chloe pushed the heavy truck door open and jumped down to the pavement. She craned her neck, looking up at the penthouse levels disappearing into the clouds. A deep sense of dread settled in her stomach. She had severely misjudged her new husband's financial situation.

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