The Cold CEO's Contract Wife

The wedding dress still clung to my skin, its delicate lace catching on my trembling fingers as I stood alone in our bedroom—no, Adrian's bedroom. The massive four-poster bed remained untouched, its silk sheets smooth and unwrinkled. I hadn't dared sit on it yet, let alone lie down.

The sound of a car engine fading into the distance pulled me toward the window. Below, Adrian's sleek black Aston Martin disappeared down the winding driveway, its taillights glowing red against the night.

"He's gone," I whispered to myself, my voice sounding foreign in the cavernous space.

The door clicked open behind me. I turned, hope fluttering in my chest despite everything. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe—

"Here." Adrian strode in, his tuxedo jacket already removed, tie loosened. He didn't look at me as he tossed a manila envelope onto the bed. "The terms of our arrangement."

I stared at the envelope, my fingers still clutching the skirt of my wedding dress. "Arrangement?"

"Open it."

With shaking hands, I tore the envelope and pulled out the documents inside. My eyes scanned the legal jargon until they reached the numbered list at the bottom.

"Rule one," Adrian recited, finally looking at me—or rather, looking through me. "Don't enter my bedroom. Rule two, don't tell anyone about our real relationship. Rule three, automatic divorce after one year."

The paper trembled in my hands. "I don't understand."

"This is a business transaction, Emma. Nothing more." His voice was cold, clinical. "Your aunt's family needed help. My family needed a marriage on paper. We're solving each other's problems."

"But—"

"Sophia's waiting for me at the hospital." He checked his watch. "She had a panic attack when she heard about the wedding."

My stomach twisted. Sophia. Her name alone was enough to make me feel invisible.

"Where should I sleep?" I asked quietly.

"The east wing has plenty of rooms." Adrian was already turning away. "James will show you around tomorrow. Goodnight, Emma."

He didn't wait for my response. The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow felt louder than a slam.

I sank to the floor, still in my wedding dress, and hugged my knees to my chest. The diamond on my finger caught the light, throwing prisms across the wall. It was beautiful. Expensive. And as cold as the man who'd placed it there.

---

Morning light filtered through the curtains I hadn't closed properly the night before. I blinked awake on the unfamiliar bed in the east wing, my wedding dress crumpled on the floor where I'd finally stepped out of it around dawn.

James, the butler, had shown me to this room last night after Adrian left. "This was the mistress's suite in the old days," he'd said quietly. "It's the best in the east wing."

I'd smiled weakly. "I'm not complaining."

Now, I dressed carefully in a simple blue dress I'd brought with me. One of only three outfits I owned that weren't secondhand. This marriage might be