The contract bride

Unveiling the chaos

Chapter 4: Unveiling the Chaos

Liam stirred awake, wincing as the sharp sunlight poured through the open blinds, stabbing at his temples like a thousand tiny needles. His head throbbed painfully, a dull reminder of the previous night’s events. Groaning, he swept a hand across the bed, fumbling for his phone, but froze when his eyes landed on the crimson stain on the pristine white sheets.

For a moment, his brain struggled to process what he was seeing. The bloodstains, the torn clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, and the faint lingering scent of perfume brought back the fragmented memories of the night before.

“f**k,” he muttered under his breath, frustration boiling over. He pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to piece it all together. He vaguely remembered the woman—her sad eyes, trembling hands, and soft voice. But her face was a blur, just like everything else after the drug had taken hold of him.

The door to his hotel room felt suffocatingly close as his frustration mounted. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and immediately dialed Michael, his best friend.

“Where the hell have you been, Liam? Melinda’s been tearing up the hotel looking for you!” Michael’s voice exploded through the phone the moment he answered.

Liam clenched his jaw, his patience already frayed. “That’s the least of my concerns right now, Michael. I need you to do something for me.”

“What now?” Michael replied, his tone wary.

“There’s a woman—I don’t know her name, but I need you to find her. She’s...” Liam paused, struggling to describe her. “She’s petite, with dark hair. She was wearing my hoodie when she left.”

Michael sighed. “Liam, do you realize how vague that is? It’s not like she left her name and address.”

“Just do it,” Liam snapped, his voice cold and unyielding.

Michael exhaled loudly. “Fine, but you’ve got a meeting in an hour. Don’t forget that.”

“Cancel it,” Liam barked, ending the call before Michael could protest.

Dragging himself out of bed, Liam walked to the bathroom, the cold tiles chilling his bare feet. The hot shower did little to ease the tension in his body. Every time he closed his eyes, fragments of the night flashed before him: the way she had looked at him with concern, her hands on his chest as she tried to help him, the desperation in her voice as she asked if he was okay.

Wrapped in a towel, he returned to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a sleek, tailored suit. He dressed quickly, his movements sharp and efficient, masking the turmoil brewing inside him.

As he stepped into the hotel corridor, his eyes locked onto Melinda. She was leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“There you are,” she said sweetly, though her tone betrayed her irritation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What happened last night? You disappeared so suddenly.”

Liam shot her a cold glance, his jaw tightening. “Drop the act, Melinda. I know exactly what you tried to pull.”

Her smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, her voice taking on a defensive edge. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” Liam stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “The drug? The drink? Do you think I’m stupid?”

Melinda’s cheeks flushed, her facade crumbling. “I...I don’t know what you mean. I only wanted to help—”

“Save it,” Liam snapped, brushing past her. “You’re wasting your time.”

He strode down the hallway, his steps purposeful, leaving Melinda fuming behind him. She clenched her fists, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Her plan had failed, and now Liam was further out of her reach than ever.

Inside the elevator, Liam leaned against the mirrored wall, his thoughts consumed by the mysterious woman. He had to find her. He couldn’t explain why, but something about her lingered in his mind, tugging at him relentlessly.

As the elevator doors opened to the bustling hotel lobby, he stepped out, his determination solidifying. Whatever it took, he would uncover her identity.

But he wasn’t the only one determined to alter the course of events. Upstairs, Melinda stood in Liam’s abandoned room, her eyes scanning the evidence left behind—the bloodstains, the torn clothes, the faint scent of another woman. A sinister smile played on her lips as she muttered to herself, “You won’t slip away from me that easily, Liam.”

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