Bound By Contract: The Possessive CEO's Bride

The living room was dead silent. Donita sat on the floor, her chest heaving in panic. The threat of total financial ruin broke her completely.

She turned her head and screamed at Kallie. "Go! Go up to my room and get the box out of the safe! Now!"

Kallie gritted her teeth. She shot a venomous glare at Kaylee, but she didn't dare disobey. She turned and ran up the grand staircase.

Two minutes later, Kallie practically ran back down. She was holding a polished rosewood box. She slammed it down onto the glass coffee table.

Kaylee saw the box and her eyes burned. She rushed forward and flipped the lid open. Inside rested the custom-made crystal box. It was untouched.

She pulled the crystal box out and hugged it tightly against her chest. It felt like she was holding her own heart. The crushing tension in her muscles finally released.

Ernest looked down at Donita. His voice was ice. "Remember this. If you ever harass her again, I will personally ensure the Fletcher name is erased from New York."

He placed his hand on Kaylee's shoulder and guided her toward the door. They walked out of the suffocating mansion without looking back.

Back in the Maybach, Kaylee sat in the corner, clutching the crystal box. Silent tears of relief slid down her cheeks. She looked at Ernest. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ernest pulled a clean tissue from the console and handed it to her. His tone was flat, devoid of the anger from earlier. "It's a transaction. Don't overthink it."

The motorcade sped back to Manhattan. It pulled into the underground garage of an ultra-luxury high-rise in the billionaire's row.

They entered a private elevator. Ernest pressed his thumb against a biometric scanner. The elevator shot up to the penthouse. The metal doors slid open silently.

Before Kaylee could even take in the sheer scale of the apartment, a heavy, expensive rose perfume assaulted her nose.

Sitting gracefully on the Italian leather sofa in the center of the living room was a stunning woman. She wore a silk slip dress that clung to her curves. It was Genevieve Mckinney.

Genevieve held a glass of red wine. When she heard the elevator, she stood up with a flawless smile. "Ernie, you're finally home."

She walked toward them, acting entirely like the lady of the house. But as her eyes landed on Ernest's hand resting on Kaylee's shoulder, her smile froze.

Kaylee felt the woman's gaze rake over her body. It was sharp, calculating, and dripping with hostility.

Ernest saw Genevieve, and his jaw clenched instantly. A dark wave of annoyance and disgust flashed in his eyes.

"Who let you in?" Ernest's voice was dangerously low. He showed zero warmth toward his childhood friend.

Genevieve put on a pathetic, wounded expression. "Agnes opened the door for me. I heard about the blind dates tomorrow. I was worried about you..."

She reached out, attempting to loop her arm through Ernest's.

Ernest shifted his weight and stepped back, dodging her touch as if she were carrying a disease. Genevieve's hand grabbed empty air.

Embarrassed, Genevieve quickly recovered. She turned her beautiful, calculating eyes to Kaylee, looking her up and down. Kaylee was covered in mud and wearing an oversized men's jacket.

"Ernie, who is this?" Genevieve asked, her tone laced with a perfectly crafted blend of innocent curiosity and subtle condescension. "You didn't introduce us. Did she get lost in the lobby?"

The insult hit Kaylee hard. Her face paled. She squeezed the crystal box tighter against her chest.

Ernest's face turned thunderous. He grabbed Kaylee's arm and pulled her firmly against his side, physically blocking Genevieve's view of her.

"Drop the act, Genevieve," Ernest warned, his voice vibrating with anger.

He pointed a finger at Kaylee. He enunciated every word clearly. "This is my wife. The mistress of this house."

The wine glass in Genevieve's hand shook violently. Dark red liquid splashed onto the pristine white rug. Her eyes widened in absolute shock, instantly filling with unshed tears. "Wife? Ernie... what kind of joke is this?" she asked, her voice trembling with a masterfully executed display of heartbreak. "We... we grew up together. You bring a stranger into your home and tell me she's your wife? Why are you doing this to me?" she pleaded, maintaining her elegant, wounded composure while subtly trying to make Kaylee feel like an intruder.

Hearing the words "doing this to me," Kaylee remembered the contract. She was supposed to act as his wife. She needed to earn her keep. She made a split-second decision.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around Ernest's solid waist. She leaned into him and flashed Genevieve a flawless, confident smile.

"Hello. I am Kaylee Blackwell."