My Husband’s Dirty Contract with His Best Friend - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading My Husband’s Dirty Contract with His Best Friend, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of My Husband’s Dirty Contract with His Best Friend.
My hands trembled as I took the envelope, my eyes locking onto the two handwritten lines. The recipient: "To my beloved wife, Lillian Roland."
At the bottom, a single declaration: "Forever yours, Felix Laurent."
I ripped it open, my breath hitching as I pulled out a printed contract and a letter. The agreement made no sense—none of it did.
It was a deal between Felix and Vincent Macmillian. Vincent promised Felix at least two business contracts a year, each worth ten million minimum with a twenty percent profit margin.
The catch? Felix had to divorce me. Refuse, and the deal was off—with consequences.
What the hell was this?
I tore into the letter, my heart pounding. By the time I finished, my knees nearly gave out.
When the company hit rock bottom, Vincent swooped in. Felix couldn't watch everything he'd built crumble—so he signed. But after years together, how could he just walk away?
He tried pulling away emotionally first, thinking it'd soften the blow. It didn't work.
Then Vincent turned vicious, tightening the screws until Felix was drowning in threats.
Finally, Vincent proposed his sick solution: Turn Lillian into a public spectacle. Humiliate her until she has no choice but to leave.
After the alumni reunion, Felix confided in Bryce Evans—someone he trusted. That's when the twisted idea took root. If he pushed the cuckquean fantasy hard enough, maybe I'd break.
But when he saw my resistance, regret gutted him.
Then Felix uncovered Vincent's real game—cutting corners, embezzling, dragging Felix into his crimes. Vincent upped the threats, but Felix refused to let me suffer, even if it meant burning everything down.
Terrified for his life, Felix made one last move: handing me over to my ex.
And then—disaster struck.
By the time I reached Felix's final words, my chest was splitting open. Relief? Grief? I couldn't tell. The room spun, and then—black.
When I came to, I was in bed, Bryce hovering beside me.
"Lillian?" His voice was soft, urgent. "How are you feeling?"
Something inside me shattered. "Get out!" I screamed, thrashing, fists flying. "Just leave!"
Bryce caught me, arms locking around me like steel. I fought, but he held on—until finally, exhausted, I collapsed against him.
Later, I took the evidence to the police. Vincent went down.
The hit-and-run driver cracked under interrogation—Felix's death was no accident. Vincent had ordered it.
With the money gone, workers abandoned the company. Lawsuits piled up. Courts seized what was left.
And just like that, everything Felix had tried to save—was gone.
At the bottom, a single declaration: "Forever yours, Felix Laurent."
I ripped it open, my breath hitching as I pulled out a printed contract and a letter. The agreement made no sense—none of it did.
It was a deal between Felix and Vincent Macmillian. Vincent promised Felix at least two business contracts a year, each worth ten million minimum with a twenty percent profit margin.
The catch? Felix had to divorce me. Refuse, and the deal was off—with consequences.
What the hell was this?
I tore into the letter, my heart pounding. By the time I finished, my knees nearly gave out.
When the company hit rock bottom, Vincent swooped in. Felix couldn't watch everything he'd built crumble—so he signed. But after years together, how could he just walk away?
He tried pulling away emotionally first, thinking it'd soften the blow. It didn't work.
Then Vincent turned vicious, tightening the screws until Felix was drowning in threats.
Finally, Vincent proposed his sick solution: Turn Lillian into a public spectacle. Humiliate her until she has no choice but to leave.
After the alumni reunion, Felix confided in Bryce Evans—someone he trusted. That's when the twisted idea took root. If he pushed the cuckquean fantasy hard enough, maybe I'd break.
But when he saw my resistance, regret gutted him.
Then Felix uncovered Vincent's real game—cutting corners, embezzling, dragging Felix into his crimes. Vincent upped the threats, but Felix refused to let me suffer, even if it meant burning everything down.
Terrified for his life, Felix made one last move: handing me over to my ex.
And then—disaster struck.
By the time I reached Felix's final words, my chest was splitting open. Relief? Grief? I couldn't tell. The room spun, and then—black.
When I came to, I was in bed, Bryce hovering beside me.
"Lillian?" His voice was soft, urgent. "How are you feeling?"
Something inside me shattered. "Get out!" I screamed, thrashing, fists flying. "Just leave!"
Bryce caught me, arms locking around me like steel. I fought, but he held on—until finally, exhausted, I collapsed against him.
Later, I took the evidence to the police. Vincent went down.
The hit-and-run driver cracked under interrogation—Felix's death was no accident. Vincent had ordered it.
With the money gone, workers abandoned the company. Lawsuits piled up. Courts seized what was left.
And just like that, everything Felix had tried to save—was gone.
End of My Husband’s Dirty Contract with His Best Friend Chapter 8. View all chapters or return to My Husband’s Dirty Contract with His Best Friend book page.