THE CEO'S CONTRACT WIFE

Chapter 7:THE BLACK CARD

Elena woke up to a light so bright it hurt her eyes.

She blinked, momentarily panicked, not recognizing the ceiling. It wasn't the water-stained plaster of her tiny apartment in Queens. It was high, white, and pristine.

Then, the memories of the previous night rushed back. The limo. The contract. The wedding. Julian.

She sat up abruptly, clutching the silk sheets to her chest. She looked toward the sofa near the window.

It was empty. The blanket was folded neatly into a perfect square. Julian was gone.

Elena climbed out of the massive bed, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. The penthouse was silent. She padded out of the bedroom and into the open-plan living area.

She found him in the kitchen.

Julian was sitting at the marble island, dressed in a navy suit that looked even sharper than the one he wore yesterday. He was reading a newspaper on a tablet while sipping black coffee.

"You're up," he said without looking away from the screen. "Good. We have a schedule to keep."

Elena pulled her oversized pajama top tighter around herself. "Good morning to you too."

Julian finally looked up. His eyes swept over her messy hair and sleep-rumpled face. He didn't smile, but he didn't scowl either. He simply slid a small black envelope across the marble counter toward her.

"What is this?" Elena asked, picking it up.

"Your resources," Julian said. "Inside is a Centurion Card. It has no limit. It is linked to my personal account."

Elena opened the envelope. The heavy black credit card sat there, gleaming. It looked like it weighed more than her entire life’s savings.

"I don't need this," Elena said, trying to hand it back. "You’re already paying for Toby’s surgery. I don't need your money for anything else."

"You are Mrs. Thorne now," Julian said, his voice firm. "You cannot be seen wearing department store jeans and scuffed sneakers. The paparazzi will be camped outside the building within the hour. If you look poor, the press will eat you alive, and my grandfather will know this marriage is a sham."

He stood up, checking his watch.

"Use the card. Buy clothes. Buy jewelry. Buy whatever you need to look like a woman who married a billionaire for love, not money. Hire a stylist if you must, but do not leave this building looking like... that."

He gestured vaguely at her pajamas.

Elena felt a flash of annoyance. "You really know how to charm a girl, Julian."

"I am not trying to charm you, Elena. I am trying to survive a corporate takeover," he replied coolly. "My driver, Marcus, is waiting downstairs. He will take you to see your brother."

Elena’s head snapped up. "Toby?"

"I keep my promises," Julian said, walking toward the private elevator. "The transfer was made at 8:00 AM. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Go see him."

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. As the doors began to close, he looked at her one last time.

"And Elena? Don't lose that card."

The doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the silent, expensive penthouse.

Elena looked down at the black card in her hand. It felt cold.

She had money. She had a husband. She had saved her brother. But as she looked around the empty, perfect apartment, she had never felt more lonely in her life.

She took a deep breath. "Okay, Julian. You want a perfect wife? I'll give you a perfect wife."