Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Wife

Nathalie sat in the dimly lit lounge, a delicate porcelain teacup cradled in her hands. The gentle clink of the cup meeting its saucer was the only sound breaking the silence, accompanied by the faint aroma of Earl Grey wafting through the air. The soft glow of the lamp on the side table cast a warm light, highlighting the intricate patterns on the walls and the rich, burgundy upholstery of the furniture.

She took a slow sip, her mind drifting through the events of the day, when the door creaked open. Sandro walked in, his presence a sharp contrast to the tranquil atmosphere. His expression was stern, his eyes carrying an urgency that immediately caught Nathalie’s attention.

“Nathalie,” Sandro began, his voice steady but low, “it’s time. You need to call Lucas.”

Nathalie set her cup down, her heart skipping a beat. She had been dreading this moment, the culmination of the plan they had been meticulously crafting. She looked up at Sandro, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but found none.

“I know,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… what should I say? How do I start?”

Sandro stepped closer, pulling a chair beside her and sitting down. He leaned forward, his gaze intense yet reassuring. “You have to play it as if you’ve been kidnapped. Make it believable. He needs to believe you’re in danger, that you need his help.”

Nathalie swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked up her phone. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”

“He will,” Sandro said with conviction. “Just remember, this is the only way to get him to talk. You have to make him believe it. Your life depends on it, and so does his.”

Nathalie nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Lucas’s name, her finger hovering over the call button. With one last look at Sandro, who gave her a firm, encouraging nod, she pressed it.

The phone rang, each tone amplifying her anxiety. Finally, Lucas’s voice came through, rough and wary.

“Nathalie? What’s going on?”

She took another deep breath, forcing a tremble into her voice. “Lucas… I don’t have much time. They’ve got me. They said… they said if I don’t call you, they’ll…”

“Nathalie, slow down. Who has you? Where are you?”

She glanced at Sandro, who mouthed the words “play along.” Nathalie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then continued, “I don’t know where I am. They blindfolded me. Please, Lucas, you have to help me. They said they want to talk to you. That it’s the only way I’ll be safe.”

There was a pause on the other end, filled with tension and uncertainty. “Who are they? What do they want?”

“I don’t know,” Nathalie lied, her voice breaking convincingly. “They’re saying… they’re saying you have something they want. Please, just do what they say.”

Sandro watched her, his face a mask of calm control, silently urging her to keep going.

“Alright, Nathalie,” Lucas’s voice softened, a hint of desperation seeping through. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just stay calm, okay? I’ll find you. I promise.”

Nathalie ended the call, her hand shaking as she set the phone down. She looked up at Sandro, who gave her a small, approving smile.

“Well done,” he said quietly. “Now, we wait.”

Nathalie nodded, her heart still racing from the intensity of the call. She picked up her tea again, the cup feeling warmer in her hands. She took another sip, the familiar taste grounding her amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

Nathalie took another sip of her tea, the warmth and familiar taste offering a small measure of comfort in the midst of her turmoil. She set the cup back down, her eyes meeting Sandro’s. The intensity in his gaze had not waned, but there was a glimmer of something else now resolve.

“Sandro,” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will this plan really work? What if Lucas doesn’t believe me? What if he doesn’t come?”

Sandro leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly. He reached out, placing a reassuring hand over hers. “Nathalie, I know this is hard, but you have to trust me. Lucas will come. If not for you, then for the child in your belly.”

Nathalie’s free hand instinctively moved to her abdomen, resting protectively over the slight swell. The thought of their unborn child was a source of both fear and strength. “But what if he thinks it’s all a trick? What if he doesn’t believe that I’m really in danger?”

Sandro’s grip on her hand tightened, his eyes locking onto hers with unwavering confidence. “Lucas is many things, but he’s not heartless. He cares about you, and he’ll care even more when he knows about the child. This is his child too, Nathalie. He won’t ignore that.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Nathalie looked down, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “I just… I can’t shake this feeling of dread. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then we adapt,” Sandro said firmly. “We have contingencies. But we have to start somewhere, and this is our best shot. Lucas needs a reason to act, and you’ve given him that. He’ll come, Nathalie. I promise you.”

She sighed, nodding slowly. “I hope you’re right, Sandro. I really do.”

He released her hand, standing up and adjusting his coat. “Get some rest, Nathalie. You need to keep your strength up. I’ll be here, keeping watch. And remember, everything we’re doing is for the future for you, for Lucas, and for your child.”

Nathalie nodded again, her mind still clouded with uncertainty but buoyed by Sandro’s unwavering confidence. She picked up her teacup once more, savoring the warmth and familiarity it brought.

Sandro paused at the door, turning back to her with a final, reassuring smile. “We’re going to make it through this, Nathalie. Just hold on a little longer.”

As the door closed behind him, Nathalie leaned back in her chair, her hand still resting protectively over her abdomen. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of her breathing calm her racing heart. The stakes were higher than ever, but she had to believe in the plan, in Sandro’s confidence, and most importantly, in Lucas’s love.

She took one last sip of her tea, then set the cup down with a determined clink. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with all the strength she could muster for herself, for Lucas, and for their unborn child.