Ruthless Tycoon: Protecting My Contract Wife

Aria didn't miss a beat. She stepped right up to Angelo, taking the expensive takeout bag from his hands as if she lived there.

Angelo's gaze bypassed Aria's shoulder. He stared at the water dripping from Amira's jacket onto the hardwood floor. His upper lip curled in undisguised disgust.

A wave of intense humiliation washed over Amira. She instinctively took a half-step back, trying to shrink into the shadows of the room.

Aria turned her head. Her voice was overly loud and laced with fake heartbreak. "Angelo, Amira is here begging for money."

Before Amira could even process the words, Aria dropped the bomb. "She wants twenty grand to buy designer bags to resell. Or maybe it's to pay off that underground gambling debt she mentioned."

Amira's head snapped up. Her eyes went wide with shock. "Aria, what are you talking about? You're lying!"

She turned to Angelo, her heart hammering wildly. "Angelo, my family is forcing me to drop out. I need tuition money!"

Angelo's frown deepened. He let out a harsh, cold scoff that cut right through her explanation. He reached up and adjusted his collar, a gesture he always made when he was annoyed.

"Stop lying, Amira," Angelo said, his voice dripping with ice. "Your mother called me last week. She bragged about the massive education trust fund they just set up for you."

Amira felt like she had been plunged into a bath of ice water. Her blood ran cold. Agnes. Her mother had spun a massive lie to save face in front of her rich boyfriend.

Aria immediately added fuel to the fire. "Her mother is obsessed with appearances. She probably lied to you to make sure you wouldn't look down on their family and dump Amira." She dabbed at the corner of her dry eye. "I just can't believe she'd become this kind of vain, lying person."

Angelo looked at Amira's pale, defenseless face. The disgust in his eyes morphed into pure contempt.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a spare key to his apartment, and tossed it onto the glass coffee table. The metal hit the glass with a sharp, violent clatter.

"I'm done with your endless demands and your lies," Angelo announced coldly. "We're over."

Amira's heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible fist. The sheer absurdity of the situation paralyzed her. She couldn't even force a tear out.

She stared at the boy who had sworn to protect her, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her toxic best friend.

Amira took a slow, deep breath. She forced her spine completely straight. Even soaking wet, she refused to lose her last shred of dignity.

She didn't look at the key. She didn't look at Angelo. She locked her eyes solely on Aria.

"One day," Amira said, her voice a low, steady blade, "you are going to pay for this lie."

Amira turned on her heel and walked straight to the heavy front door.

"Still acting tough," Angelo mocked from behind her.

Amira pulled the door open and slammed it shut, locking the sickening pair inside.

She walked back out into the freezing New York rain. The wind sliced across her cheeks like razors.

No family. No friend. No boyfriend. The triple blow hit her legs, making her knees buckle.

She leaned against a wet brick wall and slid down to the pavement, burying her face in her knees.

But deep in the abyss of her despair, her survival instinct flared. She violently wiped the mixture of rain and tears from her face.

She gritted her teeth. Even if the whole world abandoned her, she was not dropping out. She was not surrendering.

She pulled out her phone. Her bank app showed less than fifty dollars. Her brain raced.

There was only one place left where she could legally make cash. The Hamptons mansion belonging to her mysterious, reclusive employer, Buxton Shaw.

She pushed herself off the wet concrete, pulled her soaked jacket tighter, and started walking toward the late-night train to Long Island.