The Wife He Never Deserve

Chapter 4

The Contract Wife

ELARA POV

"Are you trying to hire a wife?"

I didn't realise when I let out those questions. The moment it left my mouth, I wanted to take them back but I couldn't because they sounded ridiculous to the ear.

Completely insane and absurd. He didn't look surprised, he didn't react instead he just leaned back in his chair.

So I was right. I stared at him then at the documents then back at him. So they wanted a wife, not a personal assistant like I had thought.

"What kind of joke is this?" I asked. His expression remained cold.

"It isn't a joke,” The detachment in his voice made my stomach drop.

I laughed nervously. Maybe waiting for a hidden camera or someone to come out and shout. This is a prank! We got you!

I looked around for something, maybe anything but nothing happened.

So he's right. He meant every word he said. My guts were freaking right.

"No, I can't believe this,” I said, scoffing as I headed back to the chair I was sitting on.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "No?"

"This is insane. Incredibly insane!" I yelped and grabbed my handbag. "I came here for a job, a role which says personal assistant not to be a wife to someone. I should have trusted my guts when I saw immediate employment on the site,” I rumbled to myself, striding out.

"You came here because you needed money, and I'm offering you a job. Who do you think a wife is? A supporter? And who do you think a personal assistant is? A supporter also, so?” His words hit me harder like a tsunami.

So this is the credible explanation he could give me? His gaze remained fixed on mine. My fist tightened as I bit my lips hard.

He's right. It was as if he could see every secret I was trying to hide. The debts - unpaid bills, my desperation, and sleepless nights.

My jaw clenched. "You know nothing about me,” I asserted, firmly.

"Oh I know more than enough,” He said, his voice laced with cockiness.

My stomach twisted. Of course he did.

A company like Veyron Holdings probably ran background checks before interviews. What was I expecting?

But still. The fact that he knew so much made me feel exposed, and vulnerable which I hate so much.

"I'll pretend this conversation never happened,” I mumbled and turned towards the door when his voice stopped me again.

"Your family's debt is 50 million dollars."

I froze. My fingers tightened around my bag.

"What?"

"The mortgage is overdue,” He began, standing up. My breathing became shallow.

"You have seventy-two hours before the bank seizes the property, and now you have just 48 hours. So I don't think you're in the best position to play hard to get on something that would benefit you in a way you would ever imagine without working too hard for it."

I slowly turned around. The haughtiness! The room suddenly felt suffocating. The fact he knew too much and rubbed it on my face.

"How do you know that?" I asked, my lips parting.

His expression didn't change. "I told you."

His voice remained calm. "I know enough."

A wave of humiliation surged at me. All the emotions swelled and I tightened my hand harder. Anger rushed through me.

"You investigated me?" I questioned, scoffing.

"No, I considered you." The answer somehow made me even angrier.

Consider me? Like I was some item on a shelf? Some product he wanted to purchase?

I took a step forward. "You can't solve every problem by throwing money at it."

"Oh yes I can" His eyes locked onto mine. “I can solve yours."

Then he slid the contract toward me.

"One year.” I didn't move an inch, and just collected the contract from him. "One year as my wife, and your debt disappears. I'll also give some bonus."

My heart squeezed painfully. Looking at the offer dancing in front of me. I wanted to say yes but I couldn't.

I wouldn't!

"You can't buy people."

His jaw tightened, scoffing. "You'd be surprised."

That's it! The arrogance, the haughtiness and certainty that whatever he predicts will happen. And I hate it.

Yet, a tiny part of me wished life were simple enough for me to say yes.

Because God knew I needed help but not like this. I never imagined it to be like this. I turned, and walked out.

This time around, he didn't stop me.

The bus ride home felt endless. Every time I thought about the conversation, my irritation returned.

Who did he think he was?

Just because he was rich didn't mean he could buy people. Marriage wasn't a business arrangement. It's not meant to be a transaction.

The number was unfamiliar. I answered it.

"Hello? Miss Hale?" The professional voice immediately made my stomach drop.

Oh no! Not again!

"Yes,” I answered, barely hearing my own voice.

"I'm calling regarding the foreclosure notice." I closed my eyes.

Of course, the universe wasn't done with me yet.

"We wanted to remind you that your deadline expires in forty-eight hours."

It's no longer 3 days, it's now 2 freaking days. The number hit harder this time maybe because it felt terrifying. Crazily real.

"Thank you,” I said and the call ended.

My mother was waiting when I got home.

The moment she saw my face, her smile disappeared.

"What happened?" She asked, worriedly.

I forced myself to smile. “It's nothing, mom” I lied but no matter how I lie, mother's always know, especially when their children are hurting.

"Elara." I looked away.

She understood immediately. Her shoulders slumped and the sight broke something inside me.

"I'm sorry,” I apologized. The words escaped before I could stop them.

My mother's eyes widened. “For what?"

"For everything,” I responded. The bills, the debts, our house. Tears burned behind my eyes

"I couldn't save it,” My voice cracked.

My mother's expression softened. She pulled me into her arms just like she used to when I was little.

"It's not your fault,” She reassured but it felt like it was. It always did.

That night I couldn't sleep. I lay awake staring at the ceiling, thinking, calculating about how to raise the money and about his offer.

I tried to push those thoughts away as I thought of another alternative. By morning, I couldn't bring up another solution. By afternoon, the numbers didn't change but time kept slipping away.

By evening, I found myself standing in front of Veyron Holdings again.

I hated myself for it, every second of it but desperation had a way of destroying pride.

The receptionist recognized me immediately. This time she didn't ask questions. She simply directed me upstairs as if she had been expecting me.

I stepped inside the room I entered yesterday and the billionaire was already waiting inside, seated behind his desk.

Exactly where I had left him. As if he had known this moment would happen, and the sight irritated me instantly.

"You seem very confident,” I muttered, slowly

His gaze met mine. "I understand the definition of desperation."

The answer caught me off guard. He placed the contract before me.

"One year. It's a contractual marriage."

My stomach tightened.

He continued.

"Your family's debt will be completely cleared, and anything you want will be granted."

I swallowed hard. I stared at the contract then at my mother's photograph on my phone then at the foreclosure notice playing in my head.

For the longest time, I couldn't move.

Then finally—

My hand reached for the pen, and signed my name. The deal has been sealed, and my life will never remain the same but I don't know if it will be in a positive or negative way.

He watched for minutes and the word that came out of his mouth sounded bitter and foreign.

"Welcome, Mrs. Veyron.”