The Contract Wife

NOVEL · SECTION 01 OF 01 · English

The Contract Wife — Section 1

This is my first book on Inkitt.com. And I'm rewriting it into a longer, expanded version. ♦️ ♦️ Kinsley was filming a micro-drama on the street when a stranger offered her a role—playing his wife. It felt absurd, but she accepted anyway. She needed the money. She never expected to fall into a relationship that should never have happened, a connection that slowly spiraled out of control. When she realized s

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Section 1

### Chapter 1: Chapter 1

This is my first book on Inkitt.com.

And I'm rewriting it into a longer, expanded version.

♦️ ♦️

Kinsley was filming a micro-drama on the street when a stranger offered her a role—playing his wife. It felt absurd, but she accepted anyway. She needed the money. She never expected to fall into a relationship that should never have happened, a connection that slowly spiraled out of control. When she realized she had violated the terms of the contract, agony and fear swept over her. She returned the money and fled. However, he searched every corner of the city just to find her. Between love and a contract, how was she supposed to choose?

Complete Chapters 24 Rating 4.5 ( 62 reviews ) Age Rating mature {"language":"en","storyId":1667575,"genres":[{"name":"Romance","path":"/genres/romance"}],"authorName":"Ava Reed","authorPath":"/AvaReed","status":"complete","lastUpdatedAt":1790001783,"chaptersCount":24,"rating":4.548387096774193,"reviewsCount":62,"ageRating":"mature"} Chapter 1 “No… Sir, this is absurd.”

The coffee shop was draped in soft music.

Sunlight pooled on the table, and the air carried the warm, heavy scent of caramel and roasted beans.

Kinsley gripped her cup, her knuckles white.

The man sitting across from her said. His voice was calm, steady.

“High pay, short duration. All you have to do is marry me.”

He paused, his eyes locking onto hers.

“It’s no different from theperformance you gave just finished.”

The air in the room seemed to solidify.

She forced the words out, her throat tight.

“Does it… involve sleeping together?”

The answer came without a second of hesitation.

Then, he added, “But I won’t force you.”

He offered a composed smile, but that composed look made her heart race faster than any threat ever could.

Kinsleylifted her cup and took a slow sip of her coffee, her gaze flickering restlessly beneath the sweep of her long lashes.

A cascade of heavy, chestnut waves spilled over her shoulders, shielding half of her face from his view.

She looked like a masterpiece brought to life.

“I’m only a senior in college,” shesaid, “the micro-drama was just a part-time thing.”

His gaze fell to her trembling hands.

The words slid from his lips softly, carrying the weight of absolute certainty.

Her fingertip slipped against the ceramic curve of the cup.

He looked cold, sharp, yet possessed an inexplicable elegance.

His face was more striking than any movie star’s.

His narrow, grey-blue eyes made her mind grind to a stuttering halt.

“If you’re unwilling, I can find someone else.”

The word was out before she could catch it, and regret followed instantly.

The ghost of a smile deepened in the man’s eyes.

“You’re allowed to ask questions.”

“Why don’t you marry someone you love?” she blurted out.

“That is none of your concern.”

He replied casually, yet her hand holding the cup gave a small, traitorous jerk.

Silence stretched between them, loud enough that she could hear the frantic rhythm of her own pulse.

“How do I know you’re not a con artist?”

Her voice felt too loud in the quiet space. Flustered, she glanced left and right.

None of the other patrons were looking their way, yet she felt as though she were being pinned down by a thousand judging eyes.

He didn’t argue, simply handed her a business card.

Kinsley’s eyes flickered with a tremor of shock.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, she placed the card back on the table with delicate care.

“Anyone can print a business card,” she drifted into a mumble.

Then, realizing the potential offense, she looked up at him, her pulse spiking.

“I didn’t mean it like that...”

The man’s gaze remained a pool of unnatural calm.

The corner of his mouth quirked into the faintest shadow of a smirk.

He watched her for several long heartbeats before finally speaking.

“You are welcome to come to the office to verify my identity.”

As quickly as it appeared, the curve of his lips vanished.

“But after that, I will not give you any more time to hesitate.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but the single word carried the finality of a gavel.

He had already decided for her.

The Visto headquarters loomed over the city.

Inside, the elevator hummed with high-speed precision as it shot toward the top floor.

Kinsley’s hands were balled into fists, her palms already slick with sweat.

This is the place everyone dreams of working.

As they stepped out, a secretary approached with practiced grace, extending a folder.

“Mr. Hoffman, the documents you requested are ready.”

He took them, his eyes scanning the pages with clinical efficiency before pushing open the doors to the CEO office.

“Read it carefully. If there are no objections, sign it. We start right now.”

The paper trembled in Kinsley’s grasp.

The clauses were clear, the compensation was staggering, and there were no obvious traps hidden in the legalese.

“Are we really getting married?”

“According to the contract, you are free to refuse.”

But his tone left her no room to retreat.

She stared at the document, her feet shifting back a few inches before she braced herself.

He doesn’t look like a bad man.

And the terms aren’t even that harsh...

The tip of the pen dug into the paper with too much force, snagging the fiber.

Aaron took the file backand signed on it.

“A pleasure doing business with you.”

She hesitated for a second before taking his hand, the gesture feeling more like a closed deal than a greeting.

His hand was large, powerful, and radiating an unexpected warmth.

She pulled back almost instantly, the contact searing.

“How should I address you from now on?”

Aaron picked up the intercom and directed his secretary to take the documents.

A few minutes later, Kinsley’s phone chimed with a notification.

“Your first payment should have cleared,” he said.

She checked the screen—there it was.

A quiet breath of relief escaped her. He’s a man of his word, at least.

Only now did she allow herself to settle and steal a glance at the man who was now, technically, her husband.

He was tall, built with a lean symmetry, his features so perfect they looked sculpted.

The high bridge of his nose and those thin, firm lips gave him an air of cold ruthlessness—and in reality, he lived up to the look.

It’s not exactly a hardship for the senses.

As for the rest, I’ll deal with it when it comes.

It’s only six months, after all.

“What? I haven’t even had time to—”

He was already striding toward the door, leaving her no choice but to scramble after him.

As the car sped through the city, Kinsley watched the blur of traffic, a flicker of curiosity rising about what came next.

She had never worn a wedding dress before.

There had been a wedding scene in a previous script she was so excited for, only for the director to cut it at the last minute.

What does it actually feel like to wear one?

She caught his profile in her peripheral vision.

He kept his eyes fixed on the road, driving as if he weren’t even aware of the person in his passenger seat.

The silence in the car was like a cat’s claw, scratching at her nerves.

“How much longer?” she couldn’t help asking.

He didn’t even spare her a glance.

Kinsley pressed her lips together and turned back to the window.

Upon arriving at a luxury villa, Kinsley was ushered into a room where several women were already waiting.

Wardrobe assistants helped her into the gown. A stylist worked on her hair. A makeup artist hovered over her with sponges and brushes.

She sat there, frozen like a Barbie, being fussed over and adjusted.

The dress was from a high-end couture label, a masterpiece of tiered lace and intricate detail.

Kinsley looked at herself in the mirror, her fingers brushing against the expensive fabric with a hidden spark of excitement.

The lace wasn’t quite her style, but at least the wedding didn’t feel like a cheap charade.

It was surprising, really—for a man just putting on a show, he was following every standard procedure to the letter.

Kinsley felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she let the women continue to fuss over her hair and makeup.

But a dull pressure began to build in her chest.

She had stepped into the gown in such a rush that she hadn’t noticed the fit was off.

The bodice was suffocatingly tight.

She looked down, tugging at the plunging bodice, but the constricting fabric offered no reprieve.

“Don’t panic,” she told herself,“it’s just an act.”

But the contract was real. So was the ceremony and the registration.

Everything was one step further than she had anticipated.

If today is real,what does that mean for tomorrow?

The bride in the mirror was poised and radiant.

Kinsley gripped the silk of her gown tightly, her fingertips icy.

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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2

“All done! Ma’am, you are truly the most stunning bride we have ever served!”

“Thank you,” Kinsley replied, forcing a polite, practiced smile.

In the mirror, the bride’s gown trailed elegantly across the floor, her hair swept up into a sophisticated chignon.

The diamond necklace caught the light, dancing with brilliant fire.

The low-cut neckline and the snug fit of the bodice accentuated the enticing curves of her chest, pushing the limits of the lace.

She had worn lots of styles of makeup while filming micro-dramas, but this... this was a beauty so radiant it felt foreign even to her.

She turned slowly, admiring her reflection from different angles.

Then, a dark silhouette appeared at the edge of the mirror.

Startled, she spun around immediately.

Aaron was leaning against the doorframe, watching her. There was no telling how long he had been there.

He had changed into a formal tuxedo with a sleek shawl collar, his hair swept back with precision.

In the amber glow of the room’s warm lighting, the harsh, cold lines of his face seemed to soften, if only by a fraction.

Kinsley offered a stiff, nervous smile.

It felt surreal. But this was her... husband.

“Are you ready?” He offered a faint, enigmatic smile and extended his hand.

She froze for a beat, then, as if a director had just snapped a clapperboard shut, she stepped forward to meet him, and placed her palm in his.

“The show begins now,“ she told herself.

They moved together through the long gallery and out toward the rear courtyard.

A team of florists had clearly just finished transforming a corner of the garden; they were busy clearing away stray stems and toolkits.

Deep crimson roses and white lilies—along with dozens of blooms she couldn’t name—had turned that patch of earth into something out of a fever dream.

Kinsley couldn’t suppress the spark of joy fluttering in her chest, stealing a glance at Aaron.

His gaze happened to sweep over her at that exact moment.

Her heart hammering against her ribsand she looked away instantly.

“This wedding... it feels so real.”

His eyes were dark, lingering on her for a beat too long.

Kinsley’s heart skipped; her lips parted slightly in a silent gasp.

She had assumed that signing the contract was the end of the formalities.

“But the marriage registration...”

His hand slid around her waist, warm and possessive.

The heat of his body and the faint, expensive scent of his cologne enveloped her.

Her spine stiffened for a fraction of a second.

“The photographers are watching. Mind your expression.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a phantom kiss.

In that moment, she forgot how to breathe.

The crew retreated, and a priest stepped into the center of the clearing, lending the space a sudden, heavy air of sanctity.

The courtyard lights flickered between shadow and gold, casting a glow over them that made the absurdity of the last few hours feel, quite suddenly, intimate and perfect.

Kinsley forced a sweet, practiced smile, even as her pulse quickened.

This man is actually my husband.

A wave of helplessness washed over her.

She hesitated, wanting to say something—anything—to him, but the words died in her throat.

Itwas like the cameras started rolling, but the director never gave her a script.

Her mind was a whirlwind of panic.

Finally, gathering a scrap of courage, she nudged him with her elbow.

“Technically... the contract was enough. I would have played along with whatever you needed. Why did you have to make the wedding real, too?”

“You don’t need to know that much.”

He said it with a casual shrug, but the dismissive tone made her chest tighten.

They stood face-to-face as the priest’s voice droned through the vows and the photographers circled.

It felt exactly like the micro-drama she usually acted in—except there was no director here.

And no one was going to yell “Cut.” Not for another six months.

This should have been the happiest moment of her life—a memory she would treasure forever.

Instead, she was sharing it with a total stranger.

The bodice of the gown was so tight it felt like a vise, making every breath a struggle.

She took several deep draws of air, her chest heaving against the restrictive lace.

Across from her, the man watched her intently.

The curve of his lips deepened.

Photographers and assistants circled them, capturing the scene from every conceivable angle.

Kinsley commanded herself to look radiant, to give them the perfect shot, but tears began to blur her vision against her will.

Her grip on the bouquet tightened until the stems began to snap under the pressure.

Every instinct screamed at her to run—to flee this inexplicable farce.

The contract was signed; the money had cleared.

If he could be a man of his word, she could be a woman of hers.

Taking a sharp breath, she dug her freshly manicured nails into her palms and forced her smile to brighten, turning it sweet and dazzling.

His eyes flickered, a spark dancing in the darkness of his pupils.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest announced with solemn gravity.

Aaron pulled her flush against him, his lips meeting hers in a soft, fleeting brush.

“A fine performance,” he whispered against her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

At that exact moment, a single tear escaped and tracked down her cheek.

He stiffened slightly, then reached up to brush the moisture away with his thumb.

As his eyes locked onto hers, his pupils constricted.

Then, he leaned in again, deepening the kiss.

Kinsley’s spine went rigid, but she didn’t pull away; she played her part, leaning into the lie.

The frantic, rhythmic click of the shutters surrounded her, and the cameras were still rolling.

She pretended,endured, andwaited.

Kinsley gasped for air, her spirits crashing into a dark abyss the moment the contact broke.

The ceremony was over. The photographers packed their gear and vanished into the night.

Aaron offered his thanks to the priest and saw him out, leaving Kinsley standing alone in the center of the makeshift wonderland.

His warmth still lingered on her lips, yet she knew absolutely nothing about him.

In less than three hours, her entire life had been rerouted.

Something massive and immovable had been forced into her world.

And she had no idea how to face any of it.

She ripped off the veil and tossed it aside. Seizing the moment of solitude, she let a few jagged tears fall.

When she wipe them away, she realized he was already standing beside her.

Inkitt’s mission is to discover talented writers and turn them into globally successful authors.

Authors can write and upload their manuscripts on Inkit for free and writers retain 100% of their copyrights while writing on Inkitt

Readers can read all books for free, without any ads and give the authors feedback.

Books that perform well based on their reader engagement are published on our Galatea app.

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