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Contract Marriage With My Secret Zillionaire Husband Novel Cover

Contract Marriage With My Secret Zillionaire Husband

My family went bankrupt overnight, leaving me to face a mountain of predatory debt. Instead of standing by my side, my billionaire fiancé's mother threw a five-million-dollar check on the marble table, demanding I take the money and disappear from her son's life forever. Meanwhile, my former social circle mocked my downfall. They secretly took photos of me meeting with ruthless loan sharks, waiting for me to come crawling back to beg for charity. I didn't give them the satisfaction. I legally took on my father's massive debt, threw the check back, and ruthlessly dumped my fiancé. To stop my heartbroken mother from worrying, I lied and told her I had already found a new, reliable boyfriend. But the lie was a ticking time bomb. My malicious rival even forced her way into my cramped apartment, demanding to meet this mysterious man, laughing that he must live in a dumpster. I was suffocating under the pressure. I had nothing, and I had no idea how I was supposed to magically produce a husband to get these toxic people off my back. Until a dying stranger I helped in the park made a final wish. His grandson—my cold, aloof high school upperclassman, Caleb Barnes—handed me a watertight prenuptial agreement at the hospital. "Marry me," Caleb said flatly. "I get to give my grandfather peace. You get a shield against your family." I picked up the pen and signed my name.
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Chapter 4

Mrs. Rose reached into her Hermes bag. She pulled out a paper check. She slid it across the marble coffee table.

The number written on the line was five million dollars.

"This is compensation for your time with my son," Mrs. Rose said. "Take the money. Leave Seattle. Never speak to Kirt again."

Dahlia stared at the zeros on the check. A cold, hard smile broke across her face.

She did not touch the paper. She pulled her hand out of her purse. She placed the dark blue velvet box right next to the check.

Dahlia pressed the button. The box snapped open. The pink diamond caught the light from the chandelier.

Mrs. Rose's pupils shrank. Her breath hitched. She stared at the ring.

"I am handling my family's debt," Dahlia said. Her voice was ice. "I do not need your money."

Mrs. Rose scoffed. She crossed her arms.

"This is a game," Mrs. Rose sneered. "You think playing hard to get will make Kirt fight for you."

Dahlia pulled her phone from her pocket. She unlocked the screen. She tapped Kirt's name and hit the speaker button. She dropped the phone onto the marble table.

The line rang twice. Kirt picked up.

"Dahlia? Baby, are you okay?" Kirt's voice filled the room. He sounded frantic.

Mrs. Rose's face turned pale. She opened her mouth to yell, but Dahlia shot her a glare so lethal it froze the older woman in place.

"Kirt," Dahlia said into the microphone. Her tone was completely flat. "The engagement is off."

A heavy silence fell over the line.

"What?" Kirt's voice cracked. "Why? Let me come see you."

"No," Dahlia cut him off. "I am tired of this. I don't love you anymore. It's over."

Kirt started begging. His voice broke.

Dahlia did not let him finish. She slammed her finger onto the red button. The call ended.

She tapped the screen three more times. She blocked his number. She did it right in front of his mother's eyes.

Dahlia stood up. She looked down at Mrs. Rose.

"I have nothing to do with the Rose family anymore," Dahlia stated.

She turned around. Her heels hit the wooden floor with heavy, final thuds.

Mrs. Rose sat frozen, staring at the diamond ring and the untouched check.

Dahlia pushed the sunroom doors open. Maeve stood in the hall. The housekeeper looked at Dahlia with wide eyes.

Dahlia walked out the front doors. She did not open her umbrella. She stepped directly into the freezing downpour.

The rain soaked through her coat instantly. The water ran down her face. She couldn't tell if her eyes were leaking tears or just catching the storm.

The heavy iron gates clanged shut behind her. The sound vibrated in her chest.

Dahlia stood on the curb. She inhaled the smell of wet dirt. Her lungs expanded. She felt completely free.

A yellow cab pulled up. Dahlia yanked the door open and slid onto the vinyl seat. She gave the driver her address.

The heater blasted her wet legs. She leaned her head back against the window and closed her eyes.

Her phone buzzed in her wet pocket. She pulled it out.

It was a text from Cindi: "Are you home? I need to see you."

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