The Billionaire's Contract Wife

The first ray of morning light sliced through the heavy curtains, stinging Naomi Kennedy's eyelids.

Her hangover pounded like a jackhammer against her skull. The unfamiliar ceiling and the crisp scent of men's cologne in the air confirmed the devastating reality she dreaded facing.

Last night, she had completely lost control.

At the engagement party of James Smith—the man she had loved for two years—and his socialite fiancée, she had drunk herself into oblivion and then grabbed the first man she could find...

Naomi held her breath as she carefully lifted the edge of the duvet.

The man beside her was still asleep, his profile sharp and defined. Even in slumber, his furrowed brow exuded an intimidating aura that screamed "keep your distance."

She had just placed her feet on the ice-cold floor, attempting to escape while he slept, when a scorching hand suddenly seized her wrist with crushing force.

His grip was unyielding, impossible to break free from.

Naomi's heart raced wildly as she froze, not daring to turn around.

A deep, magnetic voice rose behind her, rough with sleep yet crystal clear: "Trying to run after sleeping with me?"

Naomi's face burned crimson.

"Sir, last night was a mistake," she said, feigning composure. "We're both adults. I won't bother you again."

"A mistake?" The man's voice deepened. "Is that so?"

"Yes, a mistake. I was drunk and don't remember anything. We're adults—let's not make this complicated."

As she spoke, flashes of the previous night invaded her mind—how she had desperately clung to this man, begging him to make love to her. She couldn't believe she had such a wild side!

Mortifying!

She convinced herself it must have been some alter ego taking over. The worst part was losing her virginity in such a thoughtless blur!

Naomi took deep breaths to steady herself, trying to keep her tone light and casual.

She attempted once more to free her captive wrist.

"What if I want to make it complicated?" The man tightened his grip.

"Sir, you're the one who got lucky here. I'm being generous by not asking you to take responsibility, don't you think?" Naomi winced in pain and was forced to turn around.

One look, and her blood froze.

It was him—Jonathan Cavendish.

The ruler of the Cavendish Corporation, the most powerful and influential man in the country.

Rumor had it he was ruthless in business and cold toward women—the ultimate prize that countless socialites fought desperately to win, yet couldn't even get close enough to touch the hem of his clothes.

Worse still, the Cavendish family and the Smith family had been bitter business rivals for years.

James had mentioned this name through gritted teeth in her presence more than once.

Naomi's mind spun into chaos.

She had slept with her ex-boyfriend's mortal enemy? This was beyond absurd!

Jonathan had sat up, the silk sheets sliding down to reveal his sculpted chest and arms.

Several telling red scratches stood out starkly against his skin, silently testifying to last night's passion.

His gaze settled on her panicked face as his thin lips parted, his tone devoid of warmth: "So you're the 'first love' James discarded?"

The words struck Naomi like a slap, shame and humiliation washing over her completely.

She bit her lower lip, nails digging into her palms, unable to utter a single word.

Jonathan studied her for a few seconds before rising to dress himself. His eyes fell to his wrist, and his brow furrowed slightly.

He raised his arm, displaying the empty cuff of his shirt for Naomi to see.

"These cufflinks were custom-made. There's only one pair in the world," he said methodically. "Where's the other one?"

Naomi's mind went blank with a deafening buzz.

Looking down, she realized the diamond cufflink on the right sleeve of the man's shirt had vanished.

"I... I don't know..." Naomi frantically searched the bed and floor, but found nothing except their disheveled clothes.

"Can't find it?" Jonathan's tone betrayed no emotion, yet the room's atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. "Then you'll have to pay for it."

"How much?" Naomi blurted out.

She just wanted to resolve this with money and disappear from this man's presence immediately.

Jonathan gave a soft, mocking laugh. "Ms. Kennedy, do you think I need money?"

Naomi's heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

"Find it, or," Jonathan leaned forward, his warm breath brushing against her ear with lethal danger, "pay with yourself."

With those words, he removed his shirt and walked straight into the bathroom.

Naomi seized the opportunity to grab her crumpled evening gown from the floor. She dressed at record speed, not even bothering to zip up the back properly before fleeing the hotel in disarray.

Back in her empty rental apartment, Naomi slid to the floor, completely drained.

Her phone vibrated frantically, her best friend Grace Hernandez's name flashing relentlessly on the screen.

The moment Naomi answered, Grace's roar burst through: "Naomi, are you insane?! You actually went to that disgusting couple's engagement party? Didn't I tell you to wait for me at home? I should have crashed their party last night!"

Holding the cold phone, Naomi's tears finally broke free.

She and James had been together for five years, from college to their careers. She had supported him as he built himself up from nothing to moderate success.

She thought they were heading toward marriage, but he had turned to a socialite heiress who could save him twenty years of hard work.

When breaking up, James had said, "Naomi, I'm sorry. I'm tired. I don't want to struggle anymore."

He had dismissed their two years together with a casual "I'm tired."

If anyone was tired, it was Naomi, but the truth was simple: he just didn't love her enough.

She had chosen him, for better or worse, and she had accepted it.

The autumn rain pattered against the windows as the entire city turned cold and damp.

"Grace, I'm fine, don't worry," she hung up, leaning exhaustedly against the wall, not wanting to say another word.

On Monday, Naomi returned to "Starlight Media" looking haggard.

As soon as she entered the elevator, the office gossip approached her. "Have you heard? Our company's being acquired! They say it's the Cavendish Corporation!"

Naomi's steps faltered abruptly.

The Cavendish Corporation? Jonathan?

How could this be such a coincidence?

All day, Naomi remained distracted. Jonathan's austere face and his words—"pay with yourself"—haunted her thoughts.

In the evening, Grace picked her up in her flashy red sports car.

The two went to their favorite spicy restaurant, where the numbing heat temporarily dulled Naomi's nerves.

"So what if they're acquiring us? The Cavendish Corporation is huge—the benefits will be better than what we have now. It's the perfect chance for you to change your environment and completely forget about that scumbag James!" Grace ranted passionately.

Naomi smiled bitterly. It wasn't the acquisition she feared, but Jonathan.

Just then, her phone screen lit up.

A message from an unknown number appeared—just a few words that made Naomi's breath catch.

It read: [Found my cufflink yet?]