Contract Marriage: I’ve Always Loved You

The next day, we are on a luxurious yacht in the waters of Paris. I stand, leaning against the railing and enjoying my drink, and Grace sits away from me, making her vlog. I only tolerate this woman because of my father.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I notice a young woman, clad in a stylish summer dress, who can’t take her eyes off me. She approaches me and leans against the railing beside me. With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, she begins a conversation.

“Such a beautiful day, isn’t it? Do you come here often?” She enquires flirtatiously.

“Not as often.” Although I’m not interested in her, I answer her because I can’t behave rudely with her.

Grace, sitting a short distance away, is now quietly observing us, with the corner of her mouth curved into a sly grin.

Now, what’s going on in her mind?

She rises from her seat, and her eyes remain locked on the girl as she approaches us.

“Anyway, I’m Maya.” The girl holds out her hand to me.

Before I can answer, we hear Grace’s voice. “Excuse me, may I have a word with my husband, please?”

The girl’s smile fades, replaced by a bewildered expression. She turns to me, looking for a confirmation or denial of Grace’s statement.

As I nod, she utters with a hint of disappointment in her tone. “I’ll let you two enjoy your day.”

Grace answers with a triumphant grin. “Thank you.”

As Maya leaves, I ask Grace, “What was that?”

“It was tit for tat, Mr. Grey,” she replies with a sly smile. “If I can’t get close to any man, you can’t either.”

I give her a curt response. “I’m not like you, Grace, eager to jump into bed with anyone. So just relax.”

“How can I believe you when you had sex with me the night we met?” She raises her brows at me.

Her words remind me of that night. She isn’t aware I made love to her that night. It wasn’t a random sex. And I regret and hate myself for doing this.

I roll my eyes, not interested in making her believe me. “Whatever! I don’t want to explain to you.”

I march from there.

***

In the evening, our car stops in front of the resort and we step out.

“Steve, I want to spend some alone time. I’m not coming with you.” She informs me.

“Grace, I can’t risk you getting drunk again, so I won’t let you go alone.” I reply in a firm tone.

She retorts, “Stop acting like my father, Steve.”

“Shut up, Grace. If you’ve forgotten, let me remind you of what happened last time you got drunk.” I assert.

She sighs in frustration. “Don’t worry. I won’t get drunk tonight. I just want some time alone.”

I relent. “Fine. Go.”

“Bye, husband.” Suddenly, she pecks my cheek, causing my brows to lift in shock. Her warm touch on my neck sends chills down my spine as she whispers in my ear, “Your father’s man is watching us.”

“Take care of yourself, my love. Be back on time.” I cup her face and give her a gentle kiss on the lips, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

Her lips are so addictive!

“I might just find someone else to sleep with.” She teases with a wink before turning to leave.

In a swift motion, I grab her arm and turn her towards me. My eyes burn with anger as I warn, “Don’t you dare, Mrs Grey.”

She raises an eyebrow with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She inches closer, her lips almost brushing against mine. “What’s the matter, Steve? Can’t handle the thought of your lovely wife having some fun?”

I tighten my grip on her arms, leaning in closer to her, our faces just inches apart. “Grace, stop playing with the fire. You’ll get burned.”

She doesn’t back down, enjoying pushing my buttons. “And what if I like to play with fire?”

Our faces are so close that I can feel her breath on my lips. I feel a strange mixture of attraction and irritation. However, I won’t allow her to take control of me.

With a sudden move, I release her arm and step back. “Go on, Grace. Have your alone time. But don’t forget who you are. My wife.”

She chuckles and leaves after sitting in the car.

This woman always keeps me on my toes.

I head into the resort, hoping Grace doesn’t get drunk like last night.

Jace’s P. O. V.

I plan the next date with Zara at my penthouse.

Giving off to the chef, today I prepared the meal for her. There’s something about her that makes me want to make her feel truly special.

As I give the final touches to the dishes, wearing an apron and cap, the doorbell rings. My anticipation peaks, and I rush to open the door.

A maid is about to open the door, but I step forward, wanting to welcome Zara personally.

I open the door with a welcoming smile, and there she stands, Zara, looking stunning as ever.

“Hey. Zara!” I greet her.

“Hey!” As she steps inside, I take off her coat and hang it before offering my arm and leading her to the kitchen’s breakfast table.

As a gentleman, I pull out the chair for her, and she looks at me with admiration.

“I just come.” I dash into the kitchen to bring the meal for her.

After garnishing the dishes, I present them in front of her, standing the opposite of the breakfast table.

“I can’t believe you cooked for me.”

I chuckle in response, pouring the drink for her.

“Please, taste it. I hope you enjoy my cooking.” I utter with a smile.

She takes a bite, and her eyes light up with surprise. “Jace, this is amazing! I didn’t know you were such a skilled chef.”

I grin, pleased by her reaction. “Well, I wanted to make this date special for you. There’s more to me than just business deals and suits.”

As she continues to enjoy the meal, we engage in light conversation, sharing laughter, and discovering more about each other. It feels natural, like we’ve known each other for far longer.

After a delightful meal, I suggest, “How about a little dessert?”

She nods with enthusiasm.

As I set a beautifully plated dessert in front of her, she feeds me a bite. “Now, it’s your turn to taste your creation.”

“I must say I’m a quite good chef.” We both let out a chuckle.

When I notice a hint of cream on the corner of her lips, I lean in from the opposite side of the countertop, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

Our eyes lock as I lift my hand to wipe the cream with my thumb. We can feel each other’s breath on our lips, and our proximity drives both of us crazy.

As my thumb grazes her skin, her lips part slightly, and I feel a magnetic pull drawing us even closer.

Before we know it, our lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss. The taste of the desert lingers on our tongues, blending with the sweetness of the unexpected connection that has blossomed between us.

Grace’s P. O. V.

I sit at the bar counter in the nightclub having soft drinks. I can’t even get drunk anymore.

I used to rely on alcohol to escape my problems, to numb the memories of my past, but now I can’t even find solace in that. The consequences of my impulsive contract marriage with Steve have taken away yet another source of my temporary relief.

Fuck! I put myself into great trouble by signing the marriage contract with Steve.

But I’m not one to back down easily. I’ve faced difficult situations before, and I won’t let this marriage destroy me. I’ll figure out how to take back control of my life.

After spending a few hours dancing at the club, I decide to leave the club and head back to the resort.

As I walk, I feel a slight dizziness. The soft drinks have been tasteless, and I dismiss the sensation, thinking it’s just fatigue from the day’s events.

My steps become unsteady, and I grip the bar counter for support. I become panic as I realise that something is terribly wrong.

I try to make my way towards the parking area, but the dizziness only intensifies. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to stay on my feet. My vision blurs, and I struggle to focus on my surroundings.

As I reach the parking area, I notice the bartender and a waiter from the club standing in front of me. Their sinister smiles send chills down my spine. I’ve seen that look before, and it terrifies me.

Realisation dawns upon me like a sudden, harsh jolt. They must have spiked my drink with something to take advantage of my condition.

The bartender and waiter draw closer, their smiles growing even more sinister. I can see the venom in their eyes.

I tremble with fear as I remember a dreadful part of my past. No, no, I can’t become a victim again.

“Please, someone help me.” With all the strength I can muster, I let out a scream for help, hoping that someone nearby would hear me and come to my help.

But the parking area is vacant. I try to rush but fall to the floor because of dizziness. They evilly laugh at me, standing in front of me.

My heart pounds with sheer terror as their chilling laughter fills the parking area. I’m vulnerable, my head spinning, and I can’t trust my body to defend myself.

I utter a plea, with tears streaming down my face, “Please, I’m begging you. Let me go.”

I’m reliving a nightmare from my past, and the helplessness consumes me.

“Did we go through all this trouble just to let a sexy woman like you slip away?” One of them sneers and my stomach churns with dread.

I’m trapped, weakened by whatever they laced my drink with, and my worst fears are becoming a reality.

“Please, don’t.” I continue to sob and beg for mercy, my voice trembling as they step closer to me.

The bartender leans in and pushes me to the floor, and the waiter pins my arms on the cold floor of the parking area.

I’m defenceless against their strength and cruel intentions. Panic courses through my veins as they forcefully tear my dress, leaving me vulnerable. With a powerful hand, the bartender muffles my screams by stuffing a handkerchief into my mouth.

Tears stream down my face as I feel deja vu, a haunting reminder of the traumatic past I’ve tried so hard to forget.

I try to kick my legs, but because of weakness, I can’t move them.

In my muffled cries for help, I pray that someone will come to my rescue. I silently beg for a saviour to appear, to pull me from this nightmare.

Just when it feels like I lost all hope, and when my vision blurs with tears and fear, I see a familiar face. It’s Steve. He marches to us, his eyes filling with rage.

He doesn’t hesitate to use his strength to pull them away from me.

With a swift motion, he covers me with his coat before turning towards them.

“How dare you?” He roars, his fists clenched in rage. “She is my wife, and no one can touch her like that.”