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Contract Marriage: My Husband doesn't know I am the daughter of his enemy Novel Cover

Contract Marriage: My Husband doesn't know I am the daughter of his enemy

Mistreated like a servant by her own family, Elara Virelli flees her toxic life after a secret encounter with a masked stranger. Years later, she lives under a new name, devoted to her young son. However, billionaire CEO and mafia Don Lucien Kòrvac discovers the child is his. As these rivals are forced into a tense union for their son, they navigate a world of betrayal. Can passion survive when Elara’s true identity as his enemy’s daughter remains hidden?
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Chapter 5

Elara's POV,

"No." His voice is cold. "You'll sign because you have no choice. You're going to die, Solis." 

I laugh, and it's loud, cracked, and ugly. "How cute."

His voice drops. "You will die, once my enemies find out... and our son becomes a bargaining chip."

My blood turns cold. "They won't'..." I whisper because I know they won't. I've been hiding longer than he'd ever imagined. 

"My mother will raise him. My enemies will want him. My world-" He stops short.

He doesn't want me to know,,except I already do. His world will devour Asher alive. 

"You're the only reason he's still just a child," he finishes quietly.

Silence crashes down as the truth hits me like a blade between the ribs.

I've been cornered again, just like the Virelli mansion.

I scream. I curse. I kick until my head spins and my vision blurs from being upside down too long. He watches without stopping me.

When I finally go still, trembling and breathless, I twist upward with the last of my strength and grab his collar.

"Add a clause," I snarl. "I'm his legal guardian. I continue school. And no bodyguard bullshit."

His hand closes around mine, and he smiles, cruelly. 

"A done deal, Solis."

And just like that, I sign my soul to the devil.

~ ~

The first person I meet in the Kòrvac household is Isolde.

She looks at me like I'm something she stepped on by accident. Her eyes rake over me, slow, dismissive, and cruel, and she doesn't even bother hiding it. 

No greeting. No courtesy. Just open contempt.

But I don't even care.

For the past three long weeks since I signed that contract and agreed to co-parent with Lucien, I've stopped caring about a lot of things.

I waited a week before telling my friends. I tell them my boss took an interest in me, and that it turned into an engagement. I smile and pretend I'm happy. Carla even blesses us with tears in her eyes, and guilt pricks at me, but I bury it. 

Lies are easier than truth. Lies keep people alive.

I move with Asher into the Kòrvac mansion. It's massive and beautiful.

And I'm a ghost in it.

Asher, of course, is thrilled. He clings to Lucien like he's a god. He laughs more, smiles wider, and spends every waking moment with his father.

I tell myself I'm happy for him, but the bitterness still settles in my chest like rot.

I hate Lucien with a passion I don't bother hiding. And Lucien barely acknowledges my existence. We share a house, a child, a contract... and nothing else.

One afternoon, I sit alone in my room, staring at my open laptop.

I can't even remember the last time I did something reckless. Something me. I feel boxed in, watched and trapped.

That's when my screen flickers.

A breach attempt.

Someone is trying to break into my firewall.

I blink once, then scoff.

Amateur.

Probably someone Lucien hired to keep tabs on me. I shut it down in seconds, sealing every door. But when I scan deeper, my smile fades.

Too late.

The virus already chewed off a sliver of information.

Annoyed now, I trace the signal. It doesn't lead outside the mansion. It leads inside.

I follow the trail down the hall, past rooms I've learned to avoid, until I stop at an open door.

Isolde.

She's hunched over a computer, fingers flying, jaw clenched. She slams her palm against the desk in frustration.

"After hours," she mutters, "she still manages to block me out?"

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Ah, so it's you, you little bitch.

And just like that, something sharp and alive curls inside my chest.

Finally. I grin. A little fun.

I step into the room just as Isolde slams her hand on the desk, frustration radiating off her in waves. The screen in front of her is frozen. How sweet, it's my work. 

I smile.

"Careful," I say lightly. "If you hit it any harder, it might actually cooperate out of pity."

She whirls around and our eyes lock.

Something shifts in her expression. It's not fear, but recognition. The kind people get when they realize they've underestimated the wrong person.

"You're good," she says slowly.

"I know."

I push myself off the doorframe and walk in like I own the room. 

"So you tried to crawl into my system," I continue. "You're clever, but sloppy. You left fingerprints everywhere."

Her jaw tightens. "At least, I broke into your firewall."

"No," I correct. "I let you hit it."

Silence.

That's when I turn to leave. I've made my point and said enough.

"Elara."

I pause.

"I know who you are," Isolde says. "You're a Virelli."

The word lands like a slap. Slowly, I turn back.

I step toward her in one smooth movement. "Say that again."

"I won't," she says lightly. "But I could say it to Lucien."

The thought flashes through me. Quick, violent, terrifyingly easy.

Snap her neck. Push her down the stairs. Make it look like an accident.

My fingers twitch, but then... I stop.

I've been running my whole life. Hiding. Surviving.

I'm tired of being scared.

I cross the room and sit down heavily on the chair opposite her.

"You want the truth?" I ask flatly. "Then listen."

"I was born a mistake," I say flatly. "A maid's child. Illegitimate. Untouchable, but never protected."

I swallow. "They beat me. Starved me. Used me."

She doesn't interrupt but sits. 

"I slept with your brother without knowing who he was. I ran. I survived. I built a life from scraps. Everything I have... I earned it."

When I'm done, my throat burns and I stand.

"Believe me," I say. "Or don't. That's your choice."

I turn to leave, and her hand grabs my wrist.

"I was wrong," Isolde says quietly. "I thought you were a gold digger. Someone trying to trap my brother for his money."

I let out a humorless laugh. "If I wanted his money, I'd have emptied his accounts and disappeared."

"I won't tell anyone," she says. "I swear."

I study her face. 

"Promise," I say. "And in return, I'll teach you things your brother's security team would cry over."

Her eyes light up.

"Deal."

I walk out without looking back. In the hallway, I stop and lift my gaze to the high ceiling.

I have leverage, an ally.

A stronghold inside the Kòrvac household.

I smile to myself.

"I won't back down easily," I whisper. "Lucien Kòrvac."

~ ~

Even with Isolde on my side, I still want to leave, because the mansion suffocates me.

I try everything.

Wigs, glasses, borrowed clothes from the maids. Fake grocery runs. Doctor appointments that don't exist. Even charity visits Lucien's name sponsors...ironic, really. I always lied to Asher that we were going out to have fun or a short trip. But every time, they find us.

I know they do because I always see them. It's a car appearing at the end of the street or a familiar face in a crowd. A quiet reminder that I am never alone.

Lucien's men are good.

Too good. 

It makes my skin crawl.

I hate the way my world has shrunk to corridors and cameras. I hate the way my phone always has a signal, the way my car always starts, the way the gates open only when I'm allowed.

Isolde helps where she can. She reroutes cameras for minutes at a time. Delays reports and deletes small flags. But even she can't blind the whole house.

"It's like you're fighting a hydra," she told me once. "Cut one head, three more watch you."

That doesn't stop me from trying.

Because staying feels like surrender and because every time I see Asher laughing in Lucien's arms, a part of me aches with guilt and another part burns with fear.

What if he grows up thinking cages like this are normal?

What if he learns that love looks like control?

I won't let that happen.

So I plan again.

A smaller bag this time, just essentials, passports, and cash,, and I have a route I've tested twice. An exit window measured down to the second.

This time, I almost made it.

Almost.

It's the middle of the night, and that's when Lucien catches me leaving the front door. I'm dragging Asher's suitcase with him strolling sleepily behind me (I'd told him I was taking him to a surprise party), which I was...all the way in Canada,, and I'm certain they wouldn't catch me because I'd blocked the CCTV cameras from recording. Until...

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

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