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A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis Novel Cover

A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis

Betrayed by her fiancé and half-sister for her inheritance, a woman dies by their hands after a staged scandal ruins her life. When she unexpectedly wakes up on the day of the setup, she finds herself back in a hotel room with a stranger. However, instead of a common escort, her bedmate is Johnathan Chase, a formidable Wall Street predator and her family's rival. Armed with knowledge of the future, she prepares to turn the tables on her killers.
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Chapter 8

Elena reached out and placed a firm hand on Thea's tense back. She gave a subtle nod toward the bar. Thea hesitated, glaring at Johnathan, but eventually stepped aside and walked away, leaving them alone.

Johnathan didn't wait for an invitation. He sat down on the velvet sofa opposite Elena. He crossed his long legs, leaning back with an infuriatingly relaxed posture.

He rested his arm on the table, his long, elegant fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the wood. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Elena glared at him. "Leaking that photo was a cheap, dirty trick, Johnathan."

Johnathan didn't get angry. Instead, a low, dark chuckle vibrated in his chest. A dangerous glint flashed in his deep eyes. "I never claimed to play clean, Elena."

He leaned forward. The physical distance between them vanished. The scent of his woodsy cologne and raw, masculine heat washed over her, making her skin prickle with an involuntary, frustrating awareness.

"Darron's little apology tour tomorrow might stop the bleeding," Johnathan said softly, his eyes locked on her lips. "But it won't fix your stock price. Your investors are spooked."

Elena's fingers curled tightly around her martini glass. Her knuckles turned white. He was right, and it infuriated her.

She forced a cold smile. "And I suppose Chase Capital's stock is doing perfectly fine after being dragged into my mess?"

Johnathan's lips curved upward. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a folded term sheet-a concise, two-page summary of a massive legal proposal. He tossed it onto the table, sliding it toward her.

"Contract marriage," he said, the words falling from his lips like heavy stones.

Elena's breath hitched. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man known as the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.

She snatched the paper, her eyes scanning the bold text. It detailed a complete separation of personal assets, but a massive, public merger of their corporate voting rights.

"A marriage between our families is the only narrative strong enough to kill the scandal and force the market to rally," Johnathan explained, his voice smooth and calculated.

Elena let out a sharp, bitter laugh. She snatched the crisp pages, her hands moving with sudden violence as she ripped the term sheet cleanly in half, and then in half again, throwing the torn pieces hard against his chest.

"You think I'm stupid?" she hissed, leaning in, her eyes blazing with fury. "This is just your excuse to swallow my company whole without firing a single shot."

Johnathan's eyes instantly darkened. The relaxed amusement vanished. He reached across the table, his large hand clamping down around her wrist like a steel vice.

His palm was burning hot against her cold skin. The sudden physical contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her heart, causing it to skip a beat.

"Do not mistake my offer for weakness, Elena," he warned, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register. "I have a dozen ways to break your company. I am offering you the easiest way out."

Elena didn't flinch. She leaned closer, her face inches from his, her eyes defiant. "Then break it. Let's see who bleeds out first."

They stared at each other, the air between them thick with a suffocating, violent tension. Neither of them blinked. Neither of them backed down.

Slowly, Johnathan's grip on her wrist loosened. He let her hand go. The corner of his mouth twitched into a dark, knowing smirk.

He stood up, adjusting his suit jacket, instantly regaining his towering, arrogant composure.

He looked down at her. "In three days, at your shareholder meeting, you are going to be begging me to sign that paper."

He turned and walked away, his broad back disappearing into the shadows of the bar.

Elena collapsed back against the sofa. Her chest heaved as she dragged in air. She looked down at her wrist. The skin was red, still tingling with the ghost of his heat.

Thea rushed back to the table. "What did he do? What did he say?"

Elena snatched the crumpled contract off the table and shoved it violently into her bag. She clenched her jaw.

"Get ready for war," Elena said, her voice trembling with adrenaline. "He is not taking my company."

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