The Billionaire’s Contract Bride: A Deadly marriage

Chapter three

I didn’t run because I was scared. I ran because I understood the message. And it wasn’t meant for Alexander.

It was meant for me. The moment I saw that photograph, I knew my past wasn’t buried anymore. Someone had dug it up, cleaned it, and placed it right in front of me like a warning.

Or worse,a reminder.

By the time Alexander entered the room, I had already decided. Staying meant exposure. Leaving meant control.

So I left. Not through the door. Not through anything obvious.

I moved fast, using the one weakness every powerful man has overconfidence. Alexander’s system was tight, but not perfect. No system ever is. I found the blind spot. And I used it.

Now I was out in the cold night air, standing three blocks away from his building, blending into a city that never cared who you were.

New York was good for that. It swallowed secrets whole. But tonight, it felt like the city was watching me. I pulled my coat tighter and kept moving. No destination. Just distance.

Because if Alexander had already seen that file and I knew he had, then he would come looking.

Not out of concern. But curiosity. And curiosity makes people dangerous.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I froze. No one had this number. No one. Slowly, I pulled it out. Unknown number. I didn’t answer. It stopped.

Then immediately, a message. You shouldn’t have left. My jaw tightened. That confirmed it. This wasn’t random. This was personal.

I typed back before I could stop myself. Who is this? The reply came instantly.

Someone who knows what you really are.

I stared at the screen, my pulse steady but my mind racing. They weren’t bluffing. The photo proved that. But there was something else. Something deeper. If they wanted me exposed, they would have sent it to Alexander directly. Instead, they left it for me.

Which meant they didn’t want me exposed. They wanted me to be aware.

Another message came through. He’s already looking for you. I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to. Because of that part, I already knew.

Across the street, a black car slowed. Not obvious. But not subtle enough either. I turned slightly, pretending not to notice. The car didn’t stop. It just… lingered.

Then I moved again. Too controlled. Too deliberate. I started walking faster. Not running. Running draws attention. But I changed direction twice. Then three times. The car adjusted. That confirmed it. I wasn’t just being watched. I was being followed.

I slipped into a crowded street, blending into people, noise, movement. My reflection in a*****e window showed them clearly now.

Two men. Different cars. Same distance. Not amateurs. I kept moving. Thinking. Options. I couldn’t go back. Not yet. And I couldn’t lead them to anything important. Which meant I needed to disappear.

Fast. I turned sharply into an alley. Dark. Narrow. Quiet. Perfect. The footsteps followed. Closer this time. Good. I stopped walking. Turned. Waited. The first man entered, confident. The second stayed back. Smart. But not smart enough.

“You’re making this difficult,” the first one said. I tilted my head slightly. “You’re making it obvious.” He smirked. “You should’ve stayed where you were.”

“Where was that?”

“With him.” So this was about Alexander. Or at least connected to him.“I don’t take orders,” I said. You don’t have a choice.

I almost smiled. Everyone thinks that. Until they’re wrong. He reached for me. That was his mistake. I moved first. Fast.Precise. One step in, twist, pressure, he went down hard.

The second one reacted immediately, pulling something from his jacket. Not a gun. A knife. Closer combat.More personal. Interesting. He lunged.

I sidestepped, grabbing his wrist, forcing it back until I felt the shift. Pain. Control. He dropped the knife. I kicked it away. Silence followed.

Both men are down. Breathing. But not fighting. I crouched slightly, looking at the first one.

“Who sent you?” He didn’t answer. Expected. I pressed harder. He winced. Still silent. The second one spoke instead.“You’re already dead,” he said.

I glanced at him.“No,” I replied calmly. “You are.” I stood, stepping back. Because this wasn’t about them. They were just messengers. And I didn’t need them. I needed answers.

My phone buzzed again. Another message. That was predictable. I exhaled slowly.“They’re watching live,” I muttered. Cameras. Buildings nearby. Traffic systems. Whoever this was, they had access.

I typed quickly. What do you want? A pause. Then, to see how far you'd go. That wasn’t an answer. It was a challenge. I looked around, scanning the area. Then something caught my eye. A small black camera. Mounted high. Barely visible. I stared directly at it.“Then watch closely,” I said under my breath.

I moved again, faster now. Not avoiding. Not hiding. Hunting. Because if they wanted a game, I’d give them one. Ten minutes later, I found what I was looking for. A building across from Alexander’s. Old. Unsecured. Overlooked. Perfect. I entered through the back, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Less traceable. By the time I reached the top, my breathing was steady again. Controlled. Focused. I pushed the door open.

The rooftop was empty. Cold wind. Clear view. And there it was, Alexander’s penthouse. Fully visible.

I stepped closer to the edge. Watching. Waiting.

Because if he was as sharp as I thought, he would already be looking for me.

And I was right. The lights shifted. Movement inside. Then, Him. Standing near the window. Looking out. Not randomly. Directly.At me. Of course, a slow smile touched my lips.

“Found me,” I whispered. My phone rang. Not a message this time. A call. I answered. Silence for a second. Then his voice.“Running isn’t your style.” I leaned slightly against the edge. “Neither was losing control. But here we are.”

“You left.”

“You noticed.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” I laughed softly. “You don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” A pause. Then, “I know you’re not who you say you are.” There it was. Straight to the point. Good.“Neither are you,” I replied. “That’s different.”

“Not really.” Silence stretched. Tension. Sharp. Unavoidable.“I saw the file,” he said. “I figured.”

“That name”

“Doesn’t exist,” I cut in. “It does.”

“Not anymore.” Another pause.“You’re in danger,” he said. I almost laughed again.“You just figured that out?”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It is to someone.”

“And you’re playing along.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“No,” I said quietly. “People like me don’t.” That was the closest thing to truth I had given him. And he heard it. I knew he did.“Come back,” he said. “Why?”

“So we can finish this.”

“This was never finished to begin with.”

“Then we will start now.” I looked at him through the distance. Through glass. Through layers of lies.“Tell me something first,” I said. “What?”

“Why me?” He didn’t answer immediately.

Which meant there was a reason. A real one.“Because you were the only one who fit,” he said finally. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No,” I said. “It’s a version of it.” His expression didn’t change. But something behind it did.“You want the real reason?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Come back.” I shook my head slightly.“Not good enough.”

“Then we’re done here.” He moved slightly, like he was about to end the call.“Wait,” I said. He paused.

Just enough.“Someone is watching both of us,” I continued. “They breached your system. They sent that photo. They sent people after me.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” That stopped me. Because his tone had changed. Not surprised. Not confused. Certain.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.“Same thing you’re not telling me.” That was fair. Annoying. But fair.“Then we have a problem,” I said. “No,” he replied calmly. “We have a situation.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A problem is something you solve.”

“And a situation?” His eyes locked onto mine. Even from that distance, I felt it.“It’s something you survive.” The line went quiet. Neither of us spoke.

Because we both understand now. This wasn’t about control anymore. Or contracts. Or lies. This was bigger. And neither of us was prepared for it. Suddenly, a loud sound cut through the air behind me. Sharp. Close. Gunshot. I dropped instantly, the bullet hitting the concrete where I had been standing seconds ago.

My phone slipped from my hand, sliding across the ground. Another shot. Closer. More precise.

I rolled to the side, reaching for cover, my heart steady but my body already moving by instinct.

Sniper. High angle. Not random. Targeted. My target.“Isabella!” Alexander’s voice came through the phone faintly. I grabbed it quickly.“Sniper,” I said. “Stay down.”

“I figured that part out.” Another shot rang out. This time closer. Too close. They had my position locked.

Which meant they had been waiting. Watching. Planning.

“This was never about the photo,” I said quickly. "No," Alexander replied. “It wasn’t.” I looked around, calculating my next move. No clear exit. No safe path. Just exposure. And a very precise shooter. “Then what is it about?” I asked.

There was a pause. Too long. Then finally,“You.”