Signed To Be His Wife - Chapter 42: Chapter 42
You are reading Signed To Be His Wife, Chapter 42: Chapter 42. Read more chapters of Signed To Be His Wife.
The aftermath of Dominic's press conference was a whirlwind. News outlets feasted on the revelation, analysts debated its implications for Hart Enterprises, and social media burned with both sympathy and scorn. But while the world speculated, inside the penthouse, Amara and Dominic prepared for war.
The morning after, Amara stood in front of the expansive mirror in their walk-in closet, pulling on a crisp navy-blue suit. The sleeves hugged her arms with strength; the fabric felt like armor. Dominic entered quietly, adjusting his cufflinks. He looked at her reflection.
"You look like you're about to take over the world," he said.
Amara gave a small smile. "One legal battle at a time."
Dominic walked behind her, his hands sliding gently onto her shoulders. "We make a formidable team."
She looked into his eyes through the mirror. "Let's make sure Jeremy LeClair finds that out the hard way."
Later That Day - Legal Strike Begins
The law firm of Weston & Hart buzzed with tension as Amara walked through the doors. Every pair of eyes turned to her—not with the condescension she feared, but with a mix of curiosity and subtle respect. The scandal had reached them too, but so had the press conference. Dominic’s declaration of love had stirred something unexpected in the professional world.
She entered the glass-walled conference room where a team of lawyers waited. Dominic followed closely behind.
"This is Amara Cole," Dominic said, his tone firm. "My wife. And your lead on the LeClair litigation."
Murmurs swept the room. Some eyebrows rose, others nodded with recognition. Amara took a seat at the head of the table.
"Let's begin," she said. "LeClair used illegal surveillance, data theft, and slander to try and dismantle this company. We're not only going to stop him. We're going to expose every asset, every connection, and leave him with nothing but regret."
The team leaned in. It was the fire they needed.
Over the next two hours, they worked through financial records, offshore connections, shell company structures, and old whistleblower reports. Amara’s fingers flew across her keyboard, her legal instincts razor sharp. Dominic watched her with admiration and something deeper—pride.
Then came the breakthrough.
"He’s laundering money through a tech startup in Berlin," Amara said. "But guess what? That startup just filed for U.S. expansion. They’ll be under SEC jurisdiction. We can freeze those assets."
A murmur of excitement ran through the room.
"Draw up the motion," Dominic said. "And prepare to deliver it by morning."
As the team dispersed to act, Dominic pulled Amara aside.
"You’ve still got it."
She smirked. "Told you I wasn’t just a pretty face."
He kissed her temple. "You're terrifying in the best way."
That Night - The Sabotage
They returned home late, exhausted but satisfied. Amara peeled off her heels and collapsed onto the living room sofa. Dominic poured them both a drink.
"To round one," he said, raising his glass.
Amara clinked hers against his. "And the knockout to come."
Just then, the lights flickered.
A second later, the power went out.
Darkness swallowed the penthouse.
Dominic immediately stood, alert. "That’s not normal. The building has backup generators."
Amara’s phone buzzed—a message from Clara, their house assistant.
"Dom. Amara. Don’t stay in the penthouse tonight. Something’s wrong. I overheard a conversation at the office. They’re planning something. Leave. Now."
Dominic read it over her shoulder, his face hardening. He grabbed his coat and Amara’s hand.
"Come on. We’re not waiting to find out what."
They rushed down the stairwell, bypassing the dead elevators. On the 12th floor, a sudden bang echoed below. The building trembled slightly.
"Go!" Dominic barked, shielding Amara with his body as they continued running.
Outside, sirens wailed in the distance. Smoke billowed from one of the lower apartments—not theirs, but a message nonetheless.
Amara coughed. "That could’ve been us."
Dominic pulled her close. "He’s not playing anymore."
Safehouse – Midnight
Dominic and Amara took refuge at one of Dominic’s secured properties across the city. The high-tech condo was sleek and well-guarded. Clara was already there, pacing.
"I heard Jeremy’s fixer talking on the phone," she said. "He said you were becoming a liability and that it was time for a permanent solution."
Amara swallowed hard. "He tried to kill us."
Dominic’s eyes were steel. "Then we stop playing defense."
He turned to Clara. "I want every link traced. Every contact LeClair has. Find his weakness."
Clara nodded.
Later, as Amara stood on the balcony, watching the quiet city, Dominic came behind her.
"You okay?" he asked.
She turned to him. "No. But I will be. As long as we’re in this together."
He took her hand. "Always."
She leaned into his chest. "I just want peace. To not have to look over my shoulder."
He pressed a kiss to her hair. "We’ll get there. And when we do... I’ll tear up that damn contract. We’ll rewrite everything."
Amara looked up at him. "And what will it say?"
"Only one line," he said softly. "'I choose you. No conditions. No secrets. Just love.'"
For a brief moment, despite the chaos, Amara allowed herself to believe it.
But somewhere across the city, in a dark corner office, Jeremy LeClair watched the news with a sneer.
"Time to finish this," he muttered.
The morning after, Amara stood in front of the expansive mirror in their walk-in closet, pulling on a crisp navy-blue suit. The sleeves hugged her arms with strength; the fabric felt like armor. Dominic entered quietly, adjusting his cufflinks. He looked at her reflection.
"You look like you're about to take over the world," he said.
Amara gave a small smile. "One legal battle at a time."
Dominic walked behind her, his hands sliding gently onto her shoulders. "We make a formidable team."
She looked into his eyes through the mirror. "Let's make sure Jeremy LeClair finds that out the hard way."
Later That Day - Legal Strike Begins
The law firm of Weston & Hart buzzed with tension as Amara walked through the doors. Every pair of eyes turned to her—not with the condescension she feared, but with a mix of curiosity and subtle respect. The scandal had reached them too, but so had the press conference. Dominic’s declaration of love had stirred something unexpected in the professional world.
She entered the glass-walled conference room where a team of lawyers waited. Dominic followed closely behind.
"This is Amara Cole," Dominic said, his tone firm. "My wife. And your lead on the LeClair litigation."
Murmurs swept the room. Some eyebrows rose, others nodded with recognition. Amara took a seat at the head of the table.
"Let's begin," she said. "LeClair used illegal surveillance, data theft, and slander to try and dismantle this company. We're not only going to stop him. We're going to expose every asset, every connection, and leave him with nothing but regret."
The team leaned in. It was the fire they needed.
Over the next two hours, they worked through financial records, offshore connections, shell company structures, and old whistleblower reports. Amara’s fingers flew across her keyboard, her legal instincts razor sharp. Dominic watched her with admiration and something deeper—pride.
Then came the breakthrough.
"He’s laundering money through a tech startup in Berlin," Amara said. "But guess what? That startup just filed for U.S. expansion. They’ll be under SEC jurisdiction. We can freeze those assets."
A murmur of excitement ran through the room.
"Draw up the motion," Dominic said. "And prepare to deliver it by morning."
As the team dispersed to act, Dominic pulled Amara aside.
"You’ve still got it."
She smirked. "Told you I wasn’t just a pretty face."
He kissed her temple. "You're terrifying in the best way."
That Night - The Sabotage
They returned home late, exhausted but satisfied. Amara peeled off her heels and collapsed onto the living room sofa. Dominic poured them both a drink.
"To round one," he said, raising his glass.
Amara clinked hers against his. "And the knockout to come."
Just then, the lights flickered.
A second later, the power went out.
Darkness swallowed the penthouse.
Dominic immediately stood, alert. "That’s not normal. The building has backup generators."
Amara’s phone buzzed—a message from Clara, their house assistant.
"Dom. Amara. Don’t stay in the penthouse tonight. Something’s wrong. I overheard a conversation at the office. They’re planning something. Leave. Now."
Dominic read it over her shoulder, his face hardening. He grabbed his coat and Amara’s hand.
"Come on. We’re not waiting to find out what."
They rushed down the stairwell, bypassing the dead elevators. On the 12th floor, a sudden bang echoed below. The building trembled slightly.
"Go!" Dominic barked, shielding Amara with his body as they continued running.
Outside, sirens wailed in the distance. Smoke billowed from one of the lower apartments—not theirs, but a message nonetheless.
Amara coughed. "That could’ve been us."
Dominic pulled her close. "He’s not playing anymore."
Safehouse – Midnight
Dominic and Amara took refuge at one of Dominic’s secured properties across the city. The high-tech condo was sleek and well-guarded. Clara was already there, pacing.
"I heard Jeremy’s fixer talking on the phone," she said. "He said you were becoming a liability and that it was time for a permanent solution."
Amara swallowed hard. "He tried to kill us."
Dominic’s eyes were steel. "Then we stop playing defense."
He turned to Clara. "I want every link traced. Every contact LeClair has. Find his weakness."
Clara nodded.
Later, as Amara stood on the balcony, watching the quiet city, Dominic came behind her.
"You okay?" he asked.
She turned to him. "No. But I will be. As long as we’re in this together."
He took her hand. "Always."
She leaned into his chest. "I just want peace. To not have to look over my shoulder."
He pressed a kiss to her hair. "We’ll get there. And when we do... I’ll tear up that damn contract. We’ll rewrite everything."
Amara looked up at him. "And what will it say?"
"Only one line," he said softly. "'I choose you. No conditions. No secrets. Just love.'"
For a brief moment, despite the chaos, Amara allowed herself to believe it.
But somewhere across the city, in a dark corner office, Jeremy LeClair watched the news with a sneer.
"Time to finish this," he muttered.
End of Signed To Be His Wife Chapter 42. Continue reading Chapter 43 or return to Signed To Be His Wife book page.