Betrayed: Reclaiming His Contracted Wife

CHAPTER 4

~Sloane

The headline hit harder than a slap. Like a grenade.

My expression tightened with each sentence. My eyes flashed with different emotions. Hurt? Sadness? Or everything all at once that I couldn't distinguish. The muscles of my jaw tightened as I stared at the screen without blinking.

I dropped the glass on the table. I felt the weight of Edmund's eyes on me, I didn't need to look.

Eight years. Eight good years of my life. I dedicated everything to be with Liam, left everything behind. And then, all of a sudden, like I was just a piece of dirt, he disposed of me like we meant nothing. I respected him, and this is what I deserve? Being abandoned.

For the past week, I tried to distract myself from anything that'd make me think about this. I slept around the clock; talk to Edward if he's less busy, or I'll drown myself here—on the couch, staring at the TV.

I didn't have the confidence to think about us. About my son. But now? He married someone else and showed her to the world. At one point, he stopped showing me off, and gave excuses when I wanted to attend his events.

I guess the early years of marriage are more interesting, as they say. The vacations? They were all tricks to keep me out of the way.

The sound of the TV trailed off, sounding like it was distant, when I snapped, blinking to clear my vision. Then, the woman beside him, well-defined cheekbones, black hair well packed in a sleek ponytail, the silver glitters on her long gown reflecting the track lights. And I kept wondering—what does she have that I don't?

“Would you like to disclose the location, Mr. Walters?” The interviewer asked, wearing a smile that I felt was too wide, professional like it was practiced.

“No, the location is private for now.” He's lucky. I'd not think twice before burning it down.

“What's your inspiration behind owning an art gallery? I mean... you have companies?” The interviewer asked again, her voice composed. My chest turned in a knot. I just stared that I could swear their images reflected in my eyes. Nathaniel wasn't in the news, they left my son with a nanny.

“I've always loved artworks. I have designed comic characters since my elementary school and let's give honour to who deserve it - all credit goes to my wife.” Liam said, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Alright Mr Walters. I'd love to ask you more questions. How long have you been working on this project?”

“Hmmm..for the past two years. My wife has been more than active.” He began, praising her, his voice casual. “It took a lot of preparation, but I'm glad we got here.” My mouth fell open. My whole life was a lie. Deceit.

“What do you have to say about the news of your recent divorce flying across the Internet?”

My attention heightened as I watched, waiting for the words to come out of his mouth. He swallowed quite hard, then said, “I wouldn't appreciate it if my recent divorce disrupted my business partnerships. My business is my primary focus. As for the situation with my ex-wife... it's a private matter, but for the sake of clarity, she was diagnosed with a psychotic disorder following a car accident. It's a very difficult situation, and we both agreed separation was the best solution, especially for the well-being of our son.”

There was an edge to his voice, like he didn't want to mention my name. He sneered at the word ‘my ex-wife’, spitting it out like a curse.

There we go, the villain acting like a victim. If I hadn't run a series of tests, I'd have fallen for his scheme. It was like a thin veil draped over my face opened, and I saw him the way he is—manipulative and a cheat.

The interviewer faced the camera, standing adjacent to them, like she was about to narrate the aspects I missed.“Here are the Walter couples—Mrs. Aria Campbell, the CEO of the famous Ria Fashions, and Mr. Liam Walters. We're glad to…”

He glanced at Aria, who signaled with a slight tilt of her head and back to the camera, “I think that's the end of this interview.” She interrupted, her chin squared.

And for the briefest moment, I forgot Edward was beside me, until his hand met mine, squeezing it slightly. The screen went blank, as if Liam just vanished into the other world. I turned my head to look at him, his grip tightened around the remote like a weapon.

I served myself another wine, picking up the glass and leaning back into the couch, each sip dulling the edge of pain.

“This doesn't make sense. I didn't even know he had a mistress. Now, they're married, and I'm the ex-wife.” I muttered, more to myself than to Edward. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I forced them back. Not anymore. Liam didn't even talk like I existed.

“You want it to make sense? Then take revenge.” He said, voice tightened.

My eyes widened in a way stuck in between shock and realisation. “How? I have nothing to use against him.”

He adjusted, sitting upright, like he's about to bring up a speech. “Imagine us stranded on opposite sides of a collapsed bridge, with a large river of our problems beneath us. There's one plank, just enough to cross if our weight balances it”.

My eyes narrowed slightly, trying to form a meaning out of what he just said.

“What does a plank have to do with this?” I asked, eyebrows etched. He's gone off track.

I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, confusion, and something dangerously close to hope.

“It's an analogue. It only makes sense when you want it to.”

“This is it. Four years of marriage, and after that we file for a divorce.”

He sighed softly. “My daughter...the therapist said she needs a mother figure. Since my wife died in a car accident, she has become a shell of herself. She's still young…very young. Maya is traumatized, struggling with selective mutism. She's living in shock, and I don't want that to continue for the rest of her life.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“I'll help you get back on your feet. Then you walk out with whatever you want after the divorce. Anything.”

There's a beat of silence. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, finding the correct words, but they're all jumbled up in my head.

His words sank in, my eyes narrowed, looking into the void, and my decision defined my life in the next four years.

I scanned his face, searching for cracks, but then he didn't back down, eyes glinting with determination.

“I see you as a good mother.. and I want the best for my daughter. I want this to appear real. I don't need a nanny. After four years, she should be grown enough to handle things.”

I knew what to say. I wanted to consider Edmund's daughter, but this time, I'm putting myself first.

“Deal,” I said, a feeling of relief creeping to my chest.

“You won't regret this, I promise,” Edmund said, and I nodded, my mind reeling back to the news.

He rested his back, a small grin playing across his face as if he just won. His expression made me wonder if it's just about his daughter or if he was hiding something.

I angled my body, meeting his gaze, unfaltering, with zero intention of taking my word back. I turned to stare at the living room, eyes flying from angle to angle, the mansion I'll live in for the next four years.

“I'll be back. I need to get something from my office.” Edward stood up, as if his brain just alerted him that he forgot something.

He rushed upstairs, my eyes piercing through his back as I realized I've gone deeper into this than I thought. I reached for the wine, taking another sip. His phone vibrated against the couch, and I peeped almost reflexively.

I saw the notification. It was a message from L. Walters: “Did she agree?”