Blindly Obsessed With My Contract Wife

Night had already fallen by the time Clara arrived at her rented apartment in the old district.

She stopped in the narrow doorway and looked at the worn gray slippers near her feet.

Zachary had worn them. Faint marks from the water she had used to mop earlier that day remained on the soles.

Two plastic cups rested together on the washbasin, one blue and the other pink. The razor she had saved every spare cent to buy for him sat on the nightstand. His jacket still hung from the rack, its color faded after countless washes...

Everything in the apartment proved that Zachary had once lived there.

Still, Clara knew they could never return to what they had been.

Just then, her phone vibrated.

Clara took it out without thinking. Zachary's text appeared on the screen. "I'm meeting an important client tonight, so I probably won't be home. Get some sleep. I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

A bitter smile tugged at Clara's lips.

Was it really a client, or was he spending the night with Emily? Maybe he was with the Hopkins daughter he would soon become engaged to.

Clara had seen his betrayal herself, yet he still lied to her and carried on as though nothing had happened.

Her eyes burned as she rubbed them and wrote a brief reply. "We're done."

...

The following morning, Clara went to work at her usual time.

Reality struck sooner and far harder than she ever expected.

As soon as she reached the pharmacy, the owner stopped her at the entrance and fired her on the spot.

By noon, the restaurant owner paid her the wages she was still owed and told her to find another job.

Later that afternoon, Clara hurried to the office building and watched the cleaning supervisor remove her name from the schedule.

All three of her part-time jobs were gone by the end of the day.

Clara finally lost control and caught the supervisor by the arm. "Please be honest with me. Is someone trying to screw me over?"

After checking their surroundings, the supervisor lowered his voice. "Clara, there's nothing I can do. This order came from above. Word is that you offended Mr. Bennett last night, and everyone in the circle already knows. Hiring you now would mean standing against the Bennett family. Our company is too small to take a risk like that."

Once he finished speaking, he hurried off as though staying near Clara might drag him into the trouble.

Outside the office building, cold dread swept through Clara.

Zachary hadn't only lied and cheated. Now he was shutting her out of work—stripping away her only means of survival.

Anger had barely begun to rise inside her when her phone started ringing insistently.

The screen showed the number of the local clinic in her hometown.

Clara's chest tightened, and she answered at once.

"Clara, the toxins in your mother's system have flared up again. She's been suffering all night, and the dehydration is severe," said the familiar nurse in a panicked voice. "The doctor needs to give her the Vital Cardiac Tonic immediately, or she won't survive!"

Clara's throat tightened. "I'll get the medicine right away! Please keep her stable until then!"

Several years ago, Clara's grandfather had competed against a rival for the presidency of the Medical Association. The opponent couldn't defeat him fairly, so he poisoned the family's well.

Resentment followed her grandfather to his death. Her father survived for only another three years before he also passed away.

Her mother was the only one left. She had consumed the smallest amount of poison, but it had damaged her health beyond recovery.

Each flare-up still required an expensive imported medicine to save her.

The moment the call ended, Clara opened her banking app and checked the balance.

Vital Cardiac Tonic cost eight thousand dollars per vial. Her account held only three thousand.

Her wages of eight thousand dollars had arrived just the day before yesterday. But Zachary had told her his startup lacked enough initial funding. She hadn't hesitated before sending him every cent.

Clara clenched her teeth, found his number, and called it.

No one picked up. The phone rang until the call was sent to voicemail.

After taking a deep breath, she tried again.

Someone finally answered on her fifth attempt.

Clara hurriedly said, "Zack, about the money I sent you the day before yesterday..."

"Ms. Lambert, stop calling Mr. Bennett!" An impatient young man answered instead of Zachary. "Now that you know his real identity, learn your place and quit hanging on to him. He's having dinner with Ms. Ford. He doesn't have time for some woman trying to use him to climb the social ladder."

"I'm not chasing after him. I need my money back!" Clara shouted into the phone, unable to stop her voice from shaking. "My mom needs it to stay alive! Tell him to return it!"

The young man ignored her and ended the call.

At the noisy intersection, Clara stood still. Every sound seemed to slip away, as if her world had gone mute.

For five years, she had taken good care of Zachary with everything she had. She never imagined he could be this ruthless. His cruelty cut into her like a blade.

Clara had been twenty when she discovered Zachary in the hills behind the village while gathering herbs. Blood covered him, and he could barely breathe. She carried him home and remained awake for three days to keep him from dying.

When he regained consciousness, he claimed that he couldn't remember anything, and she trusted him. Clara promised to support him. His eyes were red when he swore that he would treat her well for the rest of his life.

When he said he wanted to move to Ozleley to start a business, she followed him. She worked three part-time jobs a day and handed over every penny she earned.

Clara had given him everything he wanted without refusing him once.

Years of saving and sacrifice had gone into the love she offered him, yet he had only seen her as a convenient distraction during a difficult period in his life.

Rage shook through Clara as she fought to keep her tears from falling.

She made herself a promise. If she ever wasted another cent on a man, she would be the biggest idiot alive.

For now, however, she still needed another five thousand dollars to pay for her mother's medicine.

Clara steadied herself with a deep breath, searched for Brenda Smith's number, and called her.

Brenda worked as a fixer for expensive private gigs and knew people across a wide network.

The call had barely connected when Brenda spoke coldly. "After offending Mr. Bennett, you actually thought calling me was a good idea? There's no way I'm finding you another gig."

Clara held the phone tighter and pleaded with her, "Brenda, what happened last night was a mistake. I know I put you in a bad position, but I'm desperate for money. Please help me one last time. I don't care how exhausting the job is. I'll take anything."

Silence lingered on the line before Brenda finally gave in. "I might have something that pays quickly. The client is looking for a contract wife for three years. He wants someone discreet who understands boundaries and can take care of him. Think it over carefully—can you actually do this job? I can't have you causing trouble for me again."

Clara shut her eyes.

Nothing remained for her. Zachary had already ground her dignity into the dirt, and she refused to lose her mom as well.

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed.