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Betrayed Heiress: The Billionaire's Contract Bride

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 547    |    Released on: 21/10/2026

er up the marble steps toward the heavy mahogany front doors. Head butler Charles Hayes

in the second-floor study playing chess wit

's name, Caesar'

erst

with oil paintings of past Whitfield patriarchs. With no servants in sight, Aria let out

cond-floor landing, followed by the heavy th

t knight move was a fatal mista

male voice answe

top teasing me. You

rowed as he looked at the six inches of empty space between himself and Aria. If his gran

expression softened into something warm, and he lifted a hand to her face, gently tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Th

othing like she expected-gentle, almost tender, with the scent

r murmured against her skin, his voic

a saw two figures come to a dead

othing-no grin, no surprise, only the flat, unreadable composure of a man who had spent a lifetime keeping his thoughts behind his eyes. Beside him,

e small of Aria's back. Her face was flushed, her eyes a littl

pering through clenched te

lun

rushed a stray strand of hair from he

much? The show is j

his head and looked straight up the staircase, meeting Clar

, his voice completely cal

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Betrayed Heiress: The Billionaire's Contract Bride
Betrayed Heiress: The Billionaire's Contract Bride
“My parents passed away, leaving me as the sole heir to the Dale family's twenty percent trust fund. But the people I trusted most-my fiancé and my own cousin-conspired to steal it all. They sent masked thugs to a cliffside, forcing me to jump into the freezing Atlantic Ocean. While I was drowning in the abyss, they were at the Waldorf Astoria, throwing a lavish engagement party. My fiancé put on a pained face for the cameras, claiming he would manage my shares in my memory. My cousin leaned against his chest, wearing the couture gown meant for my wedding. They thought they could murder me, roll around naked on my bed, and swallow my fortune without a trace. They truly believed I was just a stupid bimbo who deserved to be played and thrown away. But I didn't die in that pitch-black water. Instead, I was fished out by Wall Street's most ruthless billionaire, Caesar Whitfield. To survive and protect my inheritance, I signed a top-secret marriage agreement with him. The very next night, wearing a black silk dress, I kicked open the heavy doors of their engagement banquet. "My dear fiancé, my funeral hasn't even been held yet, and you're already rushing to marry my cousin?" I held up the USB drive containing their sex tape, backed by my new husband's heavily armed security team. It was time to take back what belonged to me.”