His Homeless contract bride

The contract bride

Amelia's POV

Every instinct told me to run.

Instead, I signed my name.

The pen hovered above the contract for a long moment before it finally touched the paper. My hand trembled as I wrote my name beneath the terms of the agreement. Two years. That was all. Two years of pretending to be Ethan Kingsley's wife, living under the protection of a family I barely knew, before I could walk away with enough money to start a life of my own.

At least, that was what the contract promised.

I stared at my signature. It looked strangely permanent.

"What have I done?"

Arthur watched me from across the desk. "Are you having second thoughts?"

I looked up at him. For a second, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell him I had changed my mind and would rather return to the shelter than step into a world where I clearly didn't belong.

But then I remembered the newspaper.

Richard Hart.

The reward.

The photograph.

Someone was looking for me, and I didn't even know why.

I slowly shook my head. "No."

Arthur nodded. "Then you've made the right decision."

I wasn't sure about that. My entire life had been uncertain. I had learned to survive by taking one day at a time. Now, with one signature, everything was about to change.

Grace came to my side and wrapped her arms around me.

"Whatever happens, you're not alone."

I closed my eyes and held her tightly.

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"What if I've made the biggest mistake of my life?"

Grace pulled away and looked directly into my eyes. "Then we'll face it together."

That was Grace. She never promised that nothing would go wrong. She only promised that I wouldn't have to face it alone.

Arthur cleared his throat gently. "We should leave."

I looked around the small shelter office. The faded walls. The old wooden chairs. The cracked window that never completely closed whenever it rained.

It wasn't much, but for three years, it had been the closest thing I had to a home. I had eaten countless meals in that building, slept under its roof, and cried in its bathrooms whenever I thought no one was watching.

I had arrived there with almost nothing.

Now I was leaving with a contract worth millions.

The thought was almost impossible to understand.

Mrs. Douglas appeared at the doorway. Her eyes immediately fell on the contract in my hand.

"So it's really happening?"

I nodded.

She walked over and took my hand. "You'll always have a place here if you need one."

My throat tightened.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything."

Mrs. Douglas smiled. "Don't thank me. Just remember where you came from."

I nodded. "I will."

I looked at Grace. "I'll come back."

Grace smiled, though I could see the sadness in her eyes. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

I laughed softly.

For the first time since signing the contract, some of the fear inside me loosened.

Then I picked up my small bag.

It was time to go.

The drive to Kingsley Mansion was quiet. I sat beside the window, watching the city change around me. The familiar streets slowly disappeared. Small shops became expensive boutiques, old buildings gave way to towering glass structures, and the streets became cleaner as the houses grew larger.

I looked down at my worn shoes.

Suddenly, I felt very aware of them.

I looked at my simple dress and then at the expensive leather seats beneath me. Everything around me reminded me that I was entering a world that had never been meant for someone like me.

"Do you really think this will work?"

Arthur glanced at me. "The marriage?"

I nodded.

"He didn't look very happy when he saw me."

Arthur gave a quiet laugh. "Ethan isn't happy about much these days."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"He's difficult, but he'll cooperate."

I turned back to the window. "Why?"

Arthur's expression changed slightly. "Because he had no choice."

That answer didn't comfort me either.

Before I could ask anything else, the car slowed.

I looked ahead.

Massive iron gates stood before us. They opened silently, revealing a long driveway surrounded by perfectly trimmed gardens. A fountain stood at the center of the circular entrance, and at the end of the driveway was a mansion so enormous that I wondered if I was looking at a hotel.

"Do people actually live here?"

Arthur chuckled. "Yes."

I stared at the mansion.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

"You might surprise yourself."

The car stopped, and a bodyguard opened my door.

I stepped out slowly.

Everything around me looked perfect. The flowers. The fountains. The marble steps. Even the enormous windows seemed to shine.

"I don't belong here," I whispered.

Arthur heard me.

"Give it time."

I looked at him. "I'm only here because of a contract."

"Sometimes life changes in ways we don't expect."

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but before I could, the mansion doors opened.

Several members of the household staff stood waiting.

"Welcome home, Miss Amelia."

I stopped.

Home.

The word felt strange.

I glanced behind me, wondering if they were speaking to someone else.

Arthur smiled. "They're talking to you."

"Oh."

My cheeks warmed.

A middle-aged woman stepped forward. "My name is Mrs. Harris. I'm the housekeeper. I'll be taking care of anything you need."

I returned her smile. "Thank you."

I didn't know what else to say. I had never had servants before. I had never even had anyone waiting at the door to welcome me home.

The unfamiliar warmth made my chest ache.

Then footsteps echoed across the grand hallway.

The staff immediately straightened.

I noticed the change and turned.

Arthur looked toward the staircase.

"He's here."

A tall man descended without rushing.

I recognized him immediately.

Ethan.

My future husband.

He wore a dark suit that fit perfectly, and there was something about the way he carried himself that made the entire room seem to adjust around him.

His eyes found mine.

They remained on me for several seconds before slowly moving over my simple dress, my worn shoes, and the small bag hanging from my shoulder.

I resisted the urge to hide myself. I had spent too many years being made to feel like I wasn't enough.

I wouldn't start now.

One corner of Ethan's mouth lifted.

"So... this is her?"

Arthur nodded. "Ethan."

Ethan's eyes remained on me. "You searched the entire city and brought home a homeless woman?"

The words hit harder than I expected.

Something tightened inside my chest.

I had heard the word before. Homeless. Poor. Nobody. I had been called worse.

Still, hearing it from the man I was expected to marry made me feel smaller than I wanted to admit.

I lowered my eyes for a second before looking back at him.

Arthur's voice hardened. "Enough."

Ethan finally looked away. "I'm only stating a fact."

I said nothing.

There was no point defending myself. He already had his opinion.

Arthur stepped forward. "Amelia, this is my grandson, Ethan."

I offered him a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Ethan didn't return it.

Arthur ignored the tension between us. "I've called everyone here because I have an announcement."

The servants turned their attention toward him.

"Ethan and Amelia are officially engaged."

The words echoed through the room.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.

Engaged.

I knew this was part of the contract, but hearing it announced so publicly made everything feel real.

The servants immediately began offering their congratulations, but Ethan looked anything but happy.

As soon as we were alone, he turned toward me.

"Come with me."

I followed him outside.

He led me to a quiet balcony overlooking the gardens. The moment we were alone, Ethan turned to face me.

"I want to make something clear."

I waited.

"This marriage is a contract. Nothing more."

His words were calm, but his expression was cold. He continued, making his rules clear. I wasn't to touch him, expect love, interfere with his business, or question his personal life. Most importantly, I was never to forget that I was only his contract wife.

Nothing more.

I listened without interrupting.

His words stung. I had known from the beginning that this marriage wasn't real, but hearing him say it so coldly still hurt.

I refused to let him see it.

I had spent three years learning how to swallow pain without letting anyone notice.

When he finished, I met his eyes.

"I understand."

Ethan frowned. "That's it?"

"What else should I say?"

He seemed almost irritated by my calm response.

I looked toward the gardens. "You made your rules. I agreed to the contract. I'll keep my side of the agreement."

Ethan stared at me.

Perhaps he had expected tears. Anger. An argument.

Instead, I had simply accepted his conditions.

For some reason, that seemed to bother him more.

After a moment, he looked away.

"Fine."

I nodded.

"Fine."

A maid soon appeared and informed me that my room was ready.

I followed her upstairs.

The hallway was long and elegant, with large family portraits hanging along the walls. I slowed as I passed each one, studying the generations of Kingsleys staring back at me.

Rich.

Powerful.

Untouchable.

I wondered what it must feel like to belong to a family like that.

Then I saw the portrait.

My feet stopped.

Something about it made my chest tighten.

I stepped closer.

A young couple stood in the center of the painting. The man's smile was warm, while the woman beside him looked beautiful.

I stared at them.

I didn't know them.

At least, I didn't think I did.

But something inside me reacted before my mind could understand.

My breathing became shallow.

Then

Pain exploded through my head.

I gasped.

The hallway disappeared.

Suddenly, I was somewhere else.

There was blood. Blood covering a polished floor. A gun. A woman screaming.

"Run, Amelia!"

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I saw a small hand. A child's hand, shaking as someone pulled the little girl away. Then another voice echoed through the darkness.

"Find the girl!"

My eyes flew open.

I grabbed the wall.

"Miss Amelia?"

I couldn't answer.

The pain grew sharper, and the images came faster. Blood. The gun. My mother's scream. The desperate sound of someone running.

"Find the girl!"

My fingers slipped against the wall.

My knees gave way.

The last thing I heard was someone screaming my name before everything went black.