Jasmyne_

Beauty was the Ashford family law, and Freya Sinclair was beauty come to life—until an accident stole that title from her. Sold to the Ashfords for a bag of chips, Freya was forced into a marriage with their heir, Alexander Ashford, on her 18th birthday. Unloved and unwanted because of a scar, she endured years of rejection. Determined to reclaim her life, Freya takes a stand, only to be cast out by the family that never wanted her. 

Homeless and disowned, she crosses paths with Sylus Thorn, a world-renowned fashion designer and enigmatic billionaire. Just when Freya believes she can start over, Alexander comes back to claim the wife he once discarded.

“Do you have anything to say regarding your stepsisters’ affair with your husband?”

Just when I thought I had no choice but to respond, a strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me out of the crowd. Startled, I looked up to see a tall, muscular man guiding me away with ease, his presence shielding me from the cameras and the reporters’ relentless questions.

We reached a black car parked at the edge of the lot, and relief flooded through me.

“Mr. Thorn,” I whispered, recognizing his familiar face.

“Get in,” Sylus commanded, his voice calm but firm.

Without hesitation, I climbed into the car, my heart racing from more than just the escape.

Will Freya save her marriage to Alexander, or will she be swept off her feet by the mysterious Sylus Thorn?

Join the MLCM Readers
https://discord.gg/gEq2mCr574

My Life in a Contract Marriage: Rescued by a Hot Billionaire

The moment that notification popped up on my screen, my stomach dropped. Rejected. They didn't want my design. And worse, I knew why. The dress hadn't been perfect—it hadn't been good enough. No matter how many hours I'd spent stitching, re-stitching, pouring myself into every seam, I'd failed. I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that I could've done more.

By the time I got home, I barely managed to toss my things onto the floor before collapsing face-down onto my bed. My thoughts twisted in endless, vicious circles.

I should have done better. It could have been better. Why wasn't it better?

The pressure was relentless. Before I knew it, the weight of my own failure finally pulled me under into a fitful sleep.

The Vial