When The Contract Ends

When The Contract Ends

Tu Tu

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For five years, I was Liam Walker, a hired husband and father in a grand mansion, my very existence hanging on Victoria Sterling' s whims and my sick mother' s need for life-saving treatment. My days were a relentless cycle of enduring Chloe, Victoria's ten-year-old daughter, who saw me as an intruder and a perpetual punching bag for her grief, often turning physical. Then came the car crash, and as the world exploded around us, I watched Victoria tend to her late husband's handsome lookalike, Julian, leaving me, her 'husband,' slumped and bleeding in the wreckage. At the hospital, I heard Victoria coldly prioritize Julian' s life, and Chloe whisper, 'Let him die, Mommy. Then Julian can be my new daddy for real.' My agony deepened when Victoria, in a chilling display of power, ordered my other hand broken, the one I played guitar with, all while Julian reveled in her affections and poisoned Chloe' s mind with lies about me. What was I really to them? A ghost, a prop, a punching bag, meticulously broken down and discarded, with no worth beyond my fleeting utility. But as my body healed, a quiet fury hardened my resolve. My contract was almost up, and this time, no amount of money or manipulation would stop me. I would escape, take my mother, and build a life free from their toxic grasp, a life so genuinely happy, their future remorse would be utterly meaningless.

Introduction

For five years, I was Liam Walker, a hired husband and father in a grand mansion, my very existence hanging on Victoria Sterling' s whims and my sick mother' s need for life-saving treatment.

My days were a relentless cycle of enduring Chloe, Victoria's ten-year-old daughter, who saw me as an intruder and a perpetual punching bag for her grief, often turning physical.

Then came the car crash, and as the world exploded around us, I watched Victoria tend to her late husband's handsome lookalike, Julian, leaving me, her 'husband,' slumped and bleeding in the wreckage.

At the hospital, I heard Victoria coldly prioritize Julian' s life, and Chloe whisper, 'Let him die, Mommy. Then Julian can be my new daddy for real.'

My agony deepened when Victoria, in a chilling display of power, ordered my other hand broken, the one I played guitar with, all while Julian reveled in her affections and poisoned Chloe' s mind with lies about me.

What was I really to them? A ghost, a prop, a punching bag, meticulously broken down and discarded, with no worth beyond my fleeting utility.

But as my body healed, a quiet fury hardened my resolve. My contract was almost up, and this time, no amount of money or manipulation would stop me.

I would escape, take my mother, and build a life free from their toxic grasp, a life so genuinely happy, their future remorse would be utterly meaningless.

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Second Choice, Shattered Heart

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The fire alarm shrieked, thick smoke burning my eyes. My heart hammered as I stumbled through the haze, calling for Liam. I finally saw him, but he wasn' t alone. He was carrying Chloe Jenkins, his childhood friend, rushing out the door without a single glance back at me, leaving me in our burning apartment. A neighbor pulled me out, and on the street, I watched Liam fuss over Chloe, who had a sprained ankle. When he finally noticed me, he walked over, a mask of concern on his face. "Ava, are you okay? I was so worried." His best friend, Ben, jogged over, clapping Liam on the shoulder. "Good thing you got Chloe out. You' re strong, Ava. Chloe needed him." They talked about me as if I wasn't there, dismissing my fear, my life. "I'm not okay," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. Liam' s face tensed. "What do you mean? You're safe. I made sure Chloe was safe because she was injured. It was a logical decision." "A logical decision?" I repeated, disbelief washing over me. "I was in there, Liam. In our home. You ran right past me." "Ava, don't be dramatic," Ben cut in. "He did the responsible thing." I discovered this wasn't an isolated incident. My own cherished items, once dismissed as "overpriced" by Liam, found their way into Chloe' s hands-a bittersweet realization that I was always his second choice, a convenient placeholder. All those years, I had convinced myself his emotional distance was just his personality. I was wrong. My heart shattered as I pieced together the truth. I was never his first choice; I was just the girl he settled for after Chloe rejected him. I was a consolation prize. "We are over, Liam," I declared, my voice raw with years of suppressed pain, throwing a glass of water in his face. "It was never about the fire. The fire was just the moment I finally opened my eyes. It's about the years of lies. It's about you letting me believe I was loved when I was just... convenient." I walked away, leaving my old life in a puddle on the floor, determined to build a new one, alone.

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I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.

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