
The Widowed CEO's Contract Bride
Love sometimes arrived when people least expected it, and often through the last person they would've imagined.
At forty years old, Daniel lived a life built around routine. His days revolved around managing the family company as its CEO while raising his three children alone. After losing his wife, grief slowly consumed him and turned him into a distant, guarded man over the years.
Meanwhile, Deanna lived an ordinary life. She worked part-time while studying at the School of the Arts, determined to achieve her dream of becoming an opera singer. With only one year left before graduation, her life suddenly changed when her friend Harry came to her in desperation and begged for help.
An old family tradition stood in Harry's way and prevented him from marrying his pregnant girlfriend. According to the family's rules, Daniel, his older brother, had to marry first.
In order to help Harry out of the situation, Daniel and Deanna agreed to fake a relationship and enter a marriage of convenience.
They were complete opposites, yet the attraction between them slowly became impossible to ignore. Daniel found the warmth and comfort that had long disappeared from his life, while Deanna experienced love again after suffering through a painful breakup.
For the first time in years, Daniel finally had a chance to rebuild the family he thought he'd lost forever.
However, not everyone wanted to see them together. Hidden motives, outside interference, and countless schemes constantly threatened to drive them apart.
Their journey wasn't easy. Aside from dealing with people determined to complicate their relationship, they also had to confront their own fears and insecurities. A fifteen-year age gap was never going to be simple to overcome. Still, the heart followed its own path, and love rarely listened to reason.
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Chapter 5
A knock sounded at Deanna's door, catching her off guard. She hadn't expected any visitors that day. Since her classes had been canceled, she stayed home to clean and sort things out, knowing she would usually come back late. This should have been her last year at university, the one she planned to finish alongside Harry. Now, that plan had been pushed back.
"Sorry for showing up like this—"
"Don't worry about it, Laura. Come in. I've been cleaning, so things aren't exactly in order."
"Thanks. I actually came with a purpose."
"A purpose?"
"Daniel handed me his card, and today we're going out together."
"So the family meeting's already set?"
"It is."
"Then I'll do what I can."
"I don't even know how to thank you, Deanna. After how things went the other night, and with you having to step away from school because of us... it means more than you think." She rested her hands over her stomach.
"It's nothing. I want to help. That baby you're carrying is going to grow up with great parents and a happy life. That's what matters."
"And they'll have a wonderful aunt too."
"An aunt who'll spoil them every chance she gets."
"Alright, let's go make good use of Daniel's money. We need something perfect for you."
"Give me a minute. I'll get changed first."
Stepping into those boutiques felt unreal to Deanna. Places like that had never been part of her world. Everything around her looked like something pulled straight out of a film, polished and distant. Even the lowest price tag matched what she earned over months. It didn't make sense to her. Did people really spend that much on a single dress? The thought alone made her uneasy. And it wasn't just clothing. Laura had already mentioned shoes, handbags, and even a salon visit.
Watching Laura move through it all made the difference even clearer. She paid without a second thought, as if it were nothing. One shop led to another, and the cycle didn't stop. Trying on outfit after outfit took up most of their time, and choosing between colors dragged on longer than she expected. The noise, the lights, the constant decisions—it all began to wear her down. This wasn't her world.
Everything she knew had always been simple. Her days were shaped by home-cooked meals, clothes passed down over time, and small gatherings with familiar faces. Her mother and grandmother raised her in the restaurant they ran, where the air carried the scent of cooking all day. That was where she grew up, surrounded by warmth and routine. After school, she spent her afternoons playing with friends in the park. Nothing about it stood out as unusual. Her teenage years followed the same path, filled with friends and occasional trips to the cinema. By 16, she had already started helping at the restaurant. A year later, she experienced her first relationship.
Now, everything had shifted without warning. She found herself standing in a place that felt far removed from anything she had known, and she wasn't sure she even liked it. The things that seemed to excite Laura didn't mean anything to her. Singing had always been the one thing that mattered. That was all she ever wanted—to stand on a stage in a respected theater and keep performing for as long as her voice allowed. Fame never crossed her mind, and money wasn't the goal. What mattered was sharing her voice. Every time she sang, something inside her came alive. In those moments, she felt at peace.
"This shade really suits you. It works with your hair."
Deanna blinked, unsure. "I don't get any of that, Laura, but I'll trust you."
A laugh slipped from Laura. "Good. Just leave everything to me. By the end of this, even Harry won't know who he's looking at."
Back at university, her instructors had been left speechless during her audition. No one expected that kind of voice to come from someone with her build. She reached high notes with ease and still carried warmth in every tone. From that moment, it was clear she had something rare ahead of her.
Everything changed once she stepped onto a stage. The cheerful girl people knew faded, and something else took over. Her stance shifted, her expression sharpened, and the energy she carried pulled every eye toward her. Each performance came from a place deep within her.
"I look like my great-aunt in this. She passed away years ago."
"You're being dramatic. It actually looks great on you... just maybe not what you'd usually pick."
"How much longer are we staying here?"
"We're not leaving until we find something that makes an impression. Though honestly, I think you've already made one on Daniel."
"Your brother-in-law doesn't react to anything."
"He's not that bad. He's just a bit..."
"Boring?"
"I'd call him formal. He carries himself like someone in charge, but there's also something about him that puts people at ease."
If she were honest, Daniel had caught her off guard. The man she pictured before meeting him didn't match the one standing in front of her that night. His age didn't show the way she expected. He didn't seem older, yet he didn't feel young either. He stood somewhere in between, settled in a way that felt complete. A trace of gray marked his temples, and most of what he expressed came through his gaze rather than his words. Laura's description fit. He looked composed, but there was something about him that didn't push people away.
If not for the way he spoke and how he insisted on getting his way, she could see why others would find him appealing. Still, there was something else she noticed but kept to herself. It might have been nothing, yet it felt real. A quiet heaviness seemed to follow him, like something unspoken lingered beneath the surface. Harry had told her enough about his past, so maybe that explained it.
"That's it. That one's perfect for you."
"You're sure about this?"
"I'm certain. How does it feel?"
"Like I belong on stage."
"Then we're done here."
"Finally. Can we go now? I'm starving."
"Alright. We'll grab something to eat, then pick up the rest."
As they stepped out, Deanna made a quiet promise to herself. The next time she saw Harry, he'd hear exactly what she thought about all of this.
Elsewhere, Harry made his way to Daniel's office. He needed to talk some sense into his brother before things got worse. Deanna might not back down, but that didn't mean she should have to deal with everything alone.
Inside, Susan was already there, questioning Daniel about what their mother had told her. After a moment of hesitation, Harry decided to lay it all out.
"Honestly, I've got two brothers who belong in an asylum. Both of you are impossible." Susan shot him a look. "Don't joke around. Is it true or not?"
"You know we didn't have much choice. That rule about appearances left us stuck, and she was the only one willing to help."
"She must care about you a lot to agree without asking for anything."
"That's just who she is. Which is why I'm asking you, Daniel... go easy on her, alright?"
"She doesn't seem like someone who needs that. She speaks her mind just fine. Maybe you should ask her to tone it down instead."
"We're the ones putting her in this position. She didn't have to agree. She's doing this for us."
"He's right. You should treat her better, Daniel."
"You're making it sound like I'm some kind of villain."
"No one said that... but you can be distant. And when you want to be, you can come across as... very condescending."
"I'm not like that."
Susan didn't back down. "You are, Dan."
With her on their side, things stood a better chance of working out. Even so, she still couldn't figure out how Daniel had agreed so quickly. It didn't seem like something he would normally accept. If a child was involved, that might explain part of it. Still, she felt there was more to it. She would find out soon enough when she finally met Deanna.
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8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.

9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."

8.6
Marrying Theron Draix in a few days was a life long dream come true.
For seventeen years, I'd loved him, revolving my life around him, and in just three days, we should be married.
"Let's break up. I won't be attending the wedding," he said.
My life shattered in that instant.
Finding out he was in love with my adopted sister was worse. They had played me and controlled my emotions.
At the end, Mireya had killed me.
If I was given a second chance, I would never love Theron and never trust Mireya.

7.4
Alaya woke up in the sterile hospital room to a devastating reality: her six-month-old baby was gone, lost in a horrific car crash.
But as the memories crashed into her, she realized she had been reborn. She was back three years before her ultimate death, back to the moment she remembered lying bleeding on the asphalt while her husband, Hardy, shielded his mistress from the freezing rain.
When Hardy finally showed up at the ward, he coldly dismissed the crash as a mere accident and immediately left to comfort his young lover. To make matters worse, Alaya secretly checked her medical files and found a terrifying detail: someone had intentionally slipped beta-blockers into her system, a lethal drug for her transplanted heart. And Hardy didn't care about her dead baby or her irreversible infertility. He only coldly confirmed with the doctor that her heart was still viable.
A horrifying suspicion made Alaya's blood run cold. Why was her husband so obsessed with protecting her transplanted heart while treating her like garbage? And why was his perfectly healthy mistress secretly racking up massive bills at an advanced cardiac hospital?
Realizing she was nothing but a vessel in a twisted, deadly game, Alaya didn't shed another tear.
She packed her belongings, left her flawless diamond wedding ring on the cold marble table, and vanished from their penthouse.
When Hardy finally tracked her down, she threw a thick stack of documents onto the table.
"Sign the divorce papers," she said, her eyes completely dead.

8.6
Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.

9.0
I died on the cold delivery table, bleeding out while the heart monitor flatlined.
Through the blinding surgical lights, I heard my husband Damon's cold, final order to the doctors.
"The child is the priority."
He didn't care about my life. To him, I was just a vessel to produce an heir, a tool to fulfill his prenuptial clause and secure his billionaire empire.
While I took my last agonizing breath, he was already planning his future with his fragile, theatrical mistress, Jasmin.
In my past life, when he first brought her into our home claiming she was a helpless victim, I shattered.
I screamed, threw vases, and played the hysterical wife perfectly.
My desperate pleas for his affection only gave him the exact weapons he needed to ruin my reputation, isolate me, and ultimately force me onto that fatal delivery bed.
Until my very last moment, the suffocating pain in my chest wasn't just physical.
I couldn't understand how the man I loved could treat my death like a simple business transaction.
Why was my absolute devotion rewarded with a carefully calculated execution?
But then, my eyes snapped open.
I was sitting on the edge of my king-sized bed, exactly three years before my death.
From downstairs, I heard Damon's voice echoing in the foyer, bringing Jasmin into our home for the very first time.
This time, the scream building in my chest turned to ice.
I didn't cry or throw a fit.
Instead, I calmly swallowed a secret birth control pill, smiled at his mistress, and dialed the most ruthless divorce lawyer in Manhattan.