The CEO's Obsession With His Contract Wife

Kimberly.

I spend the next three days in an unfamiliar villa, learning how to become the perfect CEO's bride. It feels more like a finishing school, and Martha isn't gentle about it.

She teaches me how to sit like a prim and proper wife, how to eat, smile, and walk.

It's exhausting, and I'm tempted to bail, but Nolan's final words from the day I signed the contract keep circling my head, stopping me from calling it quits.

"There's no backing out until after one year. You're mine now, Kimmie."

His dark voice as he said those words haunts me. There's a tiny veneer of threat in it, but he had covered it up with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.

I've not seen him since he brought me to this informal finishing school, and I'm grateful for it. I'd rather not see him until the contract ends.

I jerk when Martha flicks a finger at my hunched back on the dresser, ordering. "Sit properly like a Wellington bride."

I bite back the retort rimming the seam of my lips and straighten my back while the maids fuss around me, dressing me for my "catastrophic" wedding.

It never occurred to me that I'd be getting married one week before my twenty-first birthday, and to a Wellington, no less.

Huh. Life happens.

I debated telling my mother about this arrangement, but knowing she's going to spread the news to my stepsister, Clara, and my stepfather, I refrained from doing so. Clara and I never really clicked since my mother married her father.

Besides, they wouldn't believe me if I told them I'm marrying into the family that owns Chicago anyway.

Once the maids finish, they lead me toward the waiting SUV. There's still no sign of Nolan anywhere.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask the driver, curiously looking around as he speeds down the palm-lined streets.

"Your wedding venue, ma'am."

"And where is Nolan?"

"Information can't be shared, ma'am. I'm sorry."

I huff in disbelief. So I'm not privy to my husband's whereabouts? I'm already hating this marriage before it even starts. And the husband in question.

The drive to the supposed venue is silent as I gnaw the inside of my lips in equal parts anticipation and dread.

The City Hall. That's the venue.

As soon as the driver kills the engine, someone opens my door, and I was expecting it to be a valet, but to my surprise, it's Nolan.

Decked out in a black tuxedo, his brown hair falling in a soft, textured curtain over his forehead and that sunshade sitting pretty on the bridge of his nose, he steals my breath.

He removes his glasses and runs his molten hazel eyes up and down my frame while I cower, something close to appreciation filling his eyes.

"Hmm, Martha did a good job; it seems."

I snap my head up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you look close to my type."

Oh, I wasn't his type before, and he pushed me into this? How appalling and arrogant of him to say that to a woman.

"And you think you're close to mine, Mister?"

He chortles. "Oh, clearly, I'm not. Judging by your boyfriend's behavior and appearance. Oops, I mean, ex-boyfriend."

He's getting on my nerves, and I hate him for it. He tries to reach for my hand, but I duck, slipping out of his reach.

"No touching, Mister, and yes, you aren't close to being the kind of man I want, you arrogant blackmailer."

"No offense taken, little rabbit. Shall we head to our business of the day?"

I'm already walking ahead of him, ignoring his security gawking at me. Trust me, I have no idea where I'm heading, but I'd rather walk than ask him for directions.

His shoes thump on the floor as he hurries toward me. "It'll do you good if you allow me to be the man and take the lead. You're practically walking in the wrong direction..."

"I'd rather not be led by you, Mister."

"Hmm. You'd rather be carried then, I guess?"

"No, none..." I prattle, prepared to counter his conclusions and douse the blush creeping up my cheeks, but Nolan suddenly invades my space and lifts me bridal-style.

The unexpected movement steals the breath from my lungs.

I gasp, mortified, and bat at the arm supporting my legs. "What are you doing? Put me down!" I shriek.

I can only pray the walls will swallow me whole. His little stunt has already drawn the attention of everyone passing through the hallway, and their curious stares burn hotter than the blush on my cheeks.

"Trust me, I don't have all day to fight with you."

"Good news, then put me down." I bark, avoiding eye contact with those in the hallway.

"I decline. In fact, I think you should get used to it, considering you'll be my wife in a matter of minutes."

"Wife on paper. Don't get it twisted, Mister."

"Wife is wife, little rabbit. Let it sink in."

I hold my breath when he carries me into the office where we'll get the ceremony done. The officiant jerks to his feet as we enter, a smile leaking through his lips.

"Mr. Wellington, you're finally here." He greets.

I smack Nolan's arm when he drops me to my feet, hissing. He just messed up my hair. I brush the hiked strands irritably and face the officiant.

"Sorry, Basil, my bride here is a bit obstinate and needed a special kind of handling."

The man's laugh is shaky. "It's okay."

Something tells me he knows I'm being forced into this, but I guess he's not much of a gentleman to speak up for me.

Would he go against a Wellington though? I wonder, glaring at him as he brings up the wedding certificate and sets it on the desk before commencing with the ceremony.

Nolan fishes out a red velvet box from his tuxedo pocket and flips it open. He snatches my hand and forces the wedding band down, reciting the vow alongside the officiant.

"Do you, Ms. Kimberly Whitmore, take Mr. Wellington as your husband?"

No, I don't, I want to scream, but the threat lingering in Nolan's gaze seals my lips shut.

I can't believe I'm marrying this dangerous man to save myself and Eric. I've never done something this crazy before.

His fingers dig into my skin, and the sting brings my mind back to the present. With a wince, I hum a yes.

Nolan gives me a cruel smile, and holding my hand, he forces the band down on his finger.

A shuddering breath vibrates my chest at the bands tying us together.

"Well, it's all done. Mr. Wellington, you may now kiss your bride."

A kiss.

Yeah, I always get excited when it comes to kisses, and the thought of Nolan's lips meeting mine sends butterflies flapping wildly in my belly. He has very pink, very perfect lips, and I can't help wondering what they'll taste like.

I can't believe I'm actually looking forward to kissing him.

Stop imagining things, Kimberly. This man is the devil. Don't forget that. He forced you into marrying him, so don't even think he's worth a graze of your precious lips.

The reminder tastes bitter on my tongue, but instead of ducking away, I crane my neck higher, rising onto my tiptoes for the kiss as Nolan leans closer.

God, he's going to kiss me...

Time seems to slow. My eyes squeeze shut when we're a hairsbreadth apart, ready to enjoy our first kiss.

But instead of his mouth finding mine, I feel his lips brush against my ear.

A shiver races down my spine at the hot press of his velvet lips against my skin.

Then his words echo in my ear.

"I don't kiss, little wife. I devour. I eat. Well, too bad; that wasn't part of our contract."

I suck in his spicy scent, my hands trembling against his chest.

He devours. He eats...

His words burn through my soul, and I suddenly wish...

No, no wish.

"Good. Time to sign the certificate." The officiant's voice calls my wandering mind back, and I look down as Nolan signs the certificate.

When it's my turn, my hand shakes, but I do it. I sign the certificate.

Now, I'm officially a Wellington. Nolan Wellington's wife.

"Now what?" I ask him as I drop the pen.

"Now, you act like my wife."

Unlike how we came in, we both walk out of the office with Nolan speeding like he's on a mission.

He stops in the middle of the hallway, before a woman, probably in her late twenties, dressed in a black blazer. Her long black hair is packed in a sleek, neat ponytail. She's beautiful, and the way she beams at Nolan makes me curious to know who she is.

"Seraphina," Nolan calls, kissing both her cheeks. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Couldn't miss your big day, could I?" Her eyes fall on me when I come up beside Nolan. "Oh, the bride."

"She's Kimberly. Kimberly, meet Seraphina, my attorney."

We shake hands, staring each other down. "I hope you're prepared for the war ahead?"

Startled, I look at Nolan. "War? What war?"

No one responds. Nolan brushes the question off and orders Seraphina. "I'd like you to get her prepared for tonight, will ya? There's somewhere I need to be now, hm?"

"Sure. I'll handle it."

With one last look at me, Nolan walks away, whereas Seraphina gives me a crooked smile that curdles my spine.

Exactly what war was she talking about? I walk on eggshells, terror swirling through me, as Seraphina leads me away from the city hall to where I'll be armed for the unknown war.