Contract Wife's Hidden Identity Revealed
img img Contract Wife's Hidden Identity Revealed img Chapter 3
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Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
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Chapter 3

Elena POV:

My foot caught on a loose strip of metal on the floor. The sharp clang echoed in the small apartment, and they sprang apart.

Killian turned, his eyes locking on me in the doorway. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something-concern, maybe even guilt-before it was swallowed by pure annoyance.

"Elena? What the hell are you doing here?"

Dallas stepped out from behind him, a sickly sweet smile stretched across her face. Her voice was pure performance.

"Oh, Elena. I am so, so sorry for... you know. High school. We were just kids."

"Don't," I bit out, the single word cutting through her act like a shard of glass.

Her face crumpled instantly. She turned and melted against Killian's chest, her shoulders shaking with theatrical sobs.

"I was just trying to be nice."

Killian's arms wrapped around her protectively, his glare hardening as it landed on me.

"What is your problem? Just leave it alone."

My mind flashed back to the high school locker room. Dallas and her friends had held me down, the cold, sharp point of a compass digging into the soft skin of my wrist as she had carved the word "Worthless" into my flesh. The scar was still there, a pale, jagged line I saw every single day.

I remembered Killian finding me crying in the library afterward. He had taken my hand, his thumb tracing the angry red mark, and had promised me, his voice a low growl, "One day, I'll ruin her for you, Elena. I swear it."

Another beautiful, empty lie.

"Get in the car," Killian commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Dallas chimed in, wiping away a non-existent tear. "Yes, let's all go together. We can be friends."

She reached for my arm, her perfectly manicured nails sinking deliberately into the sensitive skin around my old scar.

Pain, sharp and familiar, shot up my arm. I flinched back on instinct, yanking away from her touch.

My recoil sent her stumbling backward. She went down with a dramatic gasp, collapsing onto the floor in a heap, and for all the world, it looked as if I had shoved her.

            
            

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