Contract Bride, Eternal Obsession: My Husband Refused To Let Me Go

Bethany discovered her "true love" was a lie the moment she was sent to another man's bed. Her fiancé and sister had cheated on her and conspired to steal her family's fortune. With nothing left, she struck a deal and entered a contract marriage with a feared man rumored to be ruthless. People were eager to see how long Bethany could survive in this marriage. Determined to take revenge, she expected nothing more than a transaction. But when her sister mocked her for being ruined by some stranger, he calmly said, "That man is me." And when her ex threatened, he gifted her a rare diamond. "My woman deserves the very best." As the contract neared its end, she tried to leave-only for him to pull her close. "I want this contract to last forever."

Chapters

Chapter 3

Bethany was completely confused as she was guided into the car, having no clue what was going on.

A low, firm voice sounded from beside her. "So, you're Bethany Nelson?"

A shiver ran through her entire body.

There was something strangely familiar about that voice.

She lifted her gaze and saw a man with sharply defined features, his eyes beneath thick brows cold, intense, and intimidating.

He was strikingly handsome, carrying a powerful and commanding presence.

A man like him was not someone one could easily forget after seeing once.

Bethany was certain she had never crossed paths with him before, and the familiarity she felt must have been nothing more than her imagination.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she lowered her gaze slightly and answered, "Yes, and who might you be?"

The man observed her closely, his gaze searching. "I'm Connor Roberts. There was once a marriage arrangement between our families, and I've come to fulfill it."

What?

Bethany faltered, her voice unsteady. "You mean... you intend to marry me?"

"You could say that," Connor answered calmly.

Bethany was completely stunned, unable to process it. Was this some kind of absurd joke?

Connor simply watched her in silence, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

His eyes were piercing and intense, as though they could see straight through her.

Her instincts immediately warned her that this man was dangerous.

Unease filled her to the point she could barely remain still. "Um—"

"When was the last time you showered?" Connor interrupted suddenly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You don't smell very good," he stated flatly, as if unaware of how harsh it sounded.

Bethany's face instantly turned bright red.

A surge of embarrassment and humiliation washed over her.

She awkwardly adjusted the hem of her clothing, which was wrinkled, damp from the rain, and stained with dust from the hospital walls. She truly looked disheveled.

The redness spread down her neck as she dropped her gaze to her shoes, too ashamed to move.

Connor looked away and instructed the driver in a cold tone, "Take us to Iridale."

Without giving Bethany any chance to object, the car quickly drove off.

Iridale was a high-end neighborhood.

After arriving, Bethany got out and saw a two-story house standing prominently under the sunlight. Connor directed a maid to escort her to a bathroom.

Still affected by Connor's earlier remark, Bethany thought she noticed the maid subtly wrinkle her nose as she approached.

Feeling embarrassed, she quickly said, "I can take care of it myself."

The maid passed her a set of fresh clothes before stepping back a few paces. "Each room on the second floor comes with its own bathroom. You may use any, except for the third room from the east."

Bethany only wanted to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere. She nodded quickly, grabbed the clothes, and rushed upstairs without delay.

The second floor was lined with numerous rooms. She opened the room nearest to the staircase and headed straight into the bathroom.

As she removed her clothes, her body came into view, marked with patches of red. Overlapping hickeys and bite marks stood out clearly against her delicate skin.

She had expected some marks, but not to such an extent.

A sudden wave of sadness hit her, tears gathering in her eyes as she avoided looking at her reflection. She turned on the shower and let the hot water flow, blending with the tears running down her face.

It had been her first time having sex. She had intended to give it to the man she loved, only for it to be taken in such an unexpected and absurd way by someone else.

Worse, she didn't even know what that man looked like.

She scrubbed at her skin frantically, overwhelmed by sorrow, completely missing the faint sound of the bathroom door opening beneath the noise of the running water.

It was only when a chuckle cut through the sound that she realized someone else was in the room.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Connor asked.

Continue to next part

The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the exclusive Fifth Avenue bridal boutique as I arrived for my final dress fitting. The anticipation I'd felt all week had pulled me from bed before dawn, eager to see myself in the custom gown I'd spend months designing. In less than forty-eight hours, I would be Mrs. Marcus Kane—the culmination of five years pretending to be someone I wasn't, all for love. "Ms. Sterling, I—" Madame Beaumont, the boutique's owner, rushed toward me with an expression I'd never seen on her typically composed face. "There's been a... situation." Something in her voice made my stomach drop. "What kind of situation?" "Your gown," she said, wringing her hands. "It's not here." "Not here?" I repeated, my voice unnaturally calm despite the panic rising in my chest.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Ex-Husband's Fall, My Rise

8.8

I stared at the untouched scrambled eggs on my plate, watching them slowly lose their warmth as Derek's words hung in the air between us. "I need you to step down from your position at Morrison," he said, not even looking up from his phone. The morning light streaming through our kitchen window caught the gold of his wedding band—a ring he still wore despite this being our seventh divorce proceeding. "Derek, we've talked about this." I kept my voice steady, though something inside me was already crumbling. "This promotion means everything to me. I've worked three years for this opportunity." He finally looked up, his blue eyes cold and distant. "Mara needs it more." Of course. Mara always needed everything more. "Mara has connections," he continued, his tone dismissive. "She can bring investors to Morrison that you never could.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.8

From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target

7.8

The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend. I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken. As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut. My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath. I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart. How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie? After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding.

Action Billionaire Modern

7.6

My Quiet Wife Is An Elite Genius

7.6

I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts. The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise. "She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient." I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion. He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation. "You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride." I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage. Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand. Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world. "I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.0

Rising From Hell: The Vengeful Heiress Returns

7.0

I was the Stanton family heiress, engaged to the President's son to secure a vital military alliance. But he cornered me in the White House sitting room, slamming a thick manila folder onto the marble table. "I said, sign the annulment agreement, Hester." He looked at me like I was dirt, demanding I step aside so he could be with a manipulative intern named Tricia. In my past life, I was a naive lamb. I cried and begged him not to end it. My devotion was rewarded with absolute cruelty. He ordered my bones broken and my reputation completely shredded. My trusted assistant forced poison down my throat, and I was left to die with a rope burning my neck. Until my last breath, I didn't understand. I had done everything perfectly for the family. Why did my unwavering loyalty only bring me a gruesome death? Why did the monsters who tortured me get to live happily in the highest seats of power? Opening my eyes again, the suffocating terror of the noose suddenly washed away. I was sixteen again, staring at the exact same annulment papers. "Hester, please. Just let us be happy," Tricia whimpered, reaching out her trembling hand. This time, I didn't cry. I picked up the solid gold fountain pen, stabbed it violently through the center of the contract, and prepared to drag the entire First Family straight to hell.

Billionaire Modern

8.3

The Billionaire Mistook Me for His Dead Fiancée

8.3

Celeste Marlowe spent ten years secretly loving Thorne Ashbourne from across New York's skyline — collecting his newspaper clippings, dreaming of the boy who once tied a little girl's shoelace at the Plaza Hotel. She never expected to meet him. Not like this. When her best friend drags her to a stranger's funeral, Celeste walks into a room where every eye turns to her in horror. The dead woman in the casket has her face. And the dead woman's grieving fiancé — ruthless billionaire Thorne Ashbourne — has his hand around her throat before she can explain. He offers her a six-month contract: live in his mansion. Wear his dead fiancée's clothes. Become the ghost he can't let go. Celeste signs — because she'd sell her soul for six months beside him. What she doesn't tell him is that she's secretly the masked pianist whose music he's been crying to for three years. What he doesn't know is that the woman in the casket isn't who he thinks she is. And when the real 'dead' fiancée walks back through the mansion door — will he still choose the ghost, or the girl who's been loving him all along?

Billionaire Modern Romance

Contract Bride, Eternal Obsession: My Husband Refused To Let Me Go

Chapter 3

You may also like