The Contract Wife:A One Night Stand Billionaire Romance

Antoinette and I found ourselves perched on stools in a dimly lit bar, the lively hum of music and clinking glasses filling the air. It was the ideal spot to unwind and let go of the day's stress.

As we sipped our drinks, Antoinette began chatting about men. The more the alcohol warmed my insides, the easier laughter came, and my concerns seemed to dissolve like winter frost under the spring sun. We were thoroughly enjoying our night out, but then something—or rather, someone—caught my eye.

Lucas Blackwood, the man I'd been crushing on since college, had just walked in. My heart fluttered wildly as I watched him stride in, his brooding eyes scanning the room. He looked worn out and, more noticeably, unhappy. I'd never seen him so downcast before, and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

"Zara, are you okay?" Antoinette's voice was a faint echo, drowned out by the rapid pounding of my heart.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," I managed to stutter out, though my voice hardly masked the rush of adrenaline.

I stole another glance at Lucas. He was now seated at the far end of the bar, a drink served but untouched in front of him. Even though I'd never managed to capture his heart, seeing him upset felt like a persistent itch, impossible to ignore.

"Zara! Look!" Antoinette exclaimed.

Antoinette's voice jolted me out of my reverie as she casually pointed out Lucas's presence. I offered a nonchalant smile, not wanting her to know I'd been observing him since his arrival.

"Now's your chance, girl. Go and talk to him. He seems to be alone," Antoinette nudged.

"No way," I retorted, well aware of Lucas's model girlfriend, Giselle. I had no intention of flirting with a man who was taken. "What about you?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Don't worry about me. Remember, this bar is my cousin's place. I won't be alone," she reassured.

The thought of approaching Lucas was daunting. It had been a while since we last saw each other, and I feared he might dismiss me with a mere flick of his hand. That would be mortifying.

"I'll be right back," I mumbled to Antoinette, my legs carrying me towards Lucas before I could second-guess myself. The alcohol had emboldened me, making me feel invincible. Without another thought, I slid onto the stool next to him.

"Zara Delafontaine? What are you doing here?" he inquired.

His use of my full name surprised me. He remembered me. "Hello, Lucas Blackwood," I replied, a grin tugging at my lips. He shifted his gaze from his drink to me.

"Please leave," he stated abruptly.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"Just a rough day. I'm fine. I just need a drink...or more," he replied.

"Lucky for you, I'm an expert at turning bad days around," I informed him, eliciting a chuckle.

"Are you alone?" he asked after a sip of his drink.

"No, I'm with Antoinette, but she had to step out," I fibbed. As he scanned the bar, I grew nervous. When he narrowed his eyes, I resisted the urge to check where Antoinette and I had been sitting. Luckily, she was nowhere in sight. She probably went to chat with her cousin.

As the night progressed, Lucas and I engaged in deep conversation, and I found myself flirting with him unabashedly. The bar faded into the background as we got lost in our exchange. The alcohol-fueled night had taken an unexpected turn.

We talked, laughed, and with every passing moment, my heart felt more alive. Somehow, my hand found its way to his thigh. It was a subtle touch, almost unconscious. His eyes flickered, and his expression was unreadable. With that simple touch, I sensed a shift in him, and the tension between us grew palpable.

"Let's go," he said suddenly, grabbing my hand.

I hesitated as he led me towards the exit, thinking of Antoinette. But then it hit me: I might never get another chance to be with Lucas Blackwood. So, I followed him, not looking back or worrying about Antoinette.

Stepping outside the bar, Lucas led me to his car. Without questioning his intentions, I slid into the passenger seat as he held the door open for me. As he started the car, I stole a glance at his chiseled jawline, illuminated by the city lights.

The night sky was streaked with vibrant hues from the city below, and I felt like I was in a dream. Everything was too perfect to be real. The engine hummed to life, and we pulled away from the bar.

Soon, we arrived at a towering penthouse. Lucas helped me out of the car and led me into his private sanctuary.

"Come in," he said, his voice low and inviting. I stepped inside, instantly awestruck by the opulence of his home. It was magnificent, from the luxurious furniture to the grand bed that dominated the room. His masculine scent lingered in the air, a fragrance I had always loved.

"Lucas, when did your voice become so deep?" I asked, my gaze lingering on the bed. The soft lighting accentuated the room's lavishness, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

"Lucas," I called out again, moving closer to the bed. The effects of the alcohol were making me feel warm, so I started adjusting my clothes to cool down.

Suddenly, the sound of running water caught my attention. Lucas was in the shower. I waited, a playful grin on my face.

When he emerged, the sight of his well-defined muscles, glistening with water, made my heart race. He was breathtaking. Catching my eye, I blurted out, "I'm feeling hot... I want to undress right now." Surprised by my own words, I collapsed onto the floor. Lucas rushed to my side, extending his hand to help me up.

"Lucas," I murmured, wrapping my arm around his neck.

"Rest for a couple of minutes. I will take you home later. Perhaps, do you need a shower? You are sweating," he observed.

"Yes, please," I replied, allowing him to lead me to the bathroom for a cold shower.

But the shower didn't help. I was still drunk. Emerging from the bathroom, the sweet fragrance of the evening air mixed with the aroma of wine enveloped me. Everything felt hazy and surreal. I tried to make sense of the situation, but my thoughts were clouded with confusion.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Lucas asked.

I wanted to reply, but my mind was a whirl of sensations. His words felt distant, as if they were coming from another world. A giggle escaped my lips as I tried to focus on his face, my senses heightened by the intoxicating atmosphere.

"What do you think you're doing right now?" he asked again.

"I feel hot and uncomfortable, Lucas," I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper. Leaning into him, I pressed my face against his chest, a wave of comfort washing over me. With my eyes closed, I let the moment carry me away. As I clung to him, a silent yearning for his touch took hold of me.

"You're drunk, Zara," he pointed out.

My body was warm, and alcohol coursed through my veins like liquid fire. My thoughts were scattered, making it difficult to piece everything together.

"Kiss me, Lucas," I found myself begging, the words tumbling out without thought. "Please, Lucas Blackwood, let's do this," I mumbled.

"Oh God, woman! Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded in response and before I knew it, I was pressed against him, our mouths meeting in a heated kiss. The world around us seemed to fade away as we shared that electrifying moment.

It felt as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was the sensation of his lips on mine. As our lips danced passionately, I decided to surrender myself to Lucas Blackwood.

His touch was both tender and urgent as his fingers traced a fiery path along my skin, igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down my spine. My heart raced in sync with the rising tide of emotions. As he deepened the kiss, every nerve in my body seemed to come alive. My fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as if I could meld my soul with his.

"I want you, Zara," he said, breaking away from our kiss.

"I'm all yours, Lucas," I replied, my eyes widening in shock as I realized we were already in bed.

He was above me, his legs nudging mine apart. As I complied, he claimed my lips once more before he entered me. I winced in pain at his intrusion, and he was equally shocked to discover he was my first.

"I love you, Lucas," I said, enduring the discomfort of his taking.

The morning sun spilled through the drapes, rousing me from my slumber. As I stirred, the memories of the previous night with Lucas came flooding back. However, a wave of regret washed over me. I had allowed myself to be carried away by the heat of the moment, and now, in the harsh light of day, the reality of my actions was sinking in.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the gravity of my mistake. I had given myself to Lucas, not just physically, but emotionally as well. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm my racing heart. I wished I could turn back time, erase that fateful night, but life didn't offer such conveniences. Instead, I was left to face the consequences of my actions.

How had I ended up in bed with my famous college batch mate, Lucas Blackwood? Why him? There were countless other men who were more attractive, but why Lucas? Why had I surrendered myself to him?

"Zara Delafontaine! Come here right now!" a voice called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

At the sound of his voice, I was reminded of my reputation as the diligent daughter of a respected school principal and the beautiful granddaughter of our village chief. My family was overprotective, often likening men to bees eager to taste the nectar of my flower. They would do anything to keep them at bay. But in this case, it wasn't the bee that sought the flower, but the flower had gone to the bee. The realization filled me with humiliation!

It was embarrassing to admit that I made the first move to have him! I wanted to blame Antoinette and the alcohol for what happened, but I knew that wouldn't be fair. After all, it was my decision to approach Lucas at the bar. I wasn't forced to talk to him. I was so intoxicated that I had no recollection of what happened after.

Waking up next to Lucas Blackwood was a shock. We were both naked, and the bloodstain on the bedsheet was a stark reminder of what had transpired between us. It was a one-night stand, both of us intoxicated, and it was a terrible way to lose my v-card!

But then, even though I heard my grandfather's voice, I didn't plan on going downstairs. Instead, I moved to the window, pulling back the drapes to see what was happening outside. As I lost myself in my thoughts, a black car pulled up. I furrowed my brows in confusion until recognition dawned on me. It was Lucas's car.

What was he doing in my house?

Panic surged through me at the thought of my grandfather opening the door to find Lucas. I rushed downstairs, my heart pounding as I saw him standing in our home. His expression was unreadable, but I could sense a storm brewing behind his eyes. Initially, I had hoped he was here to court me, but the anger and frustration in his gaze told a different story. I glanced at my grandfather, who was seated nearby, and asked if I could speak with Lucas privately. He gave a nod of approval, and I led Lucas to the patio in the middle of our garden.

"Finally, you're awake!" Lucas said, his voice carrying an edge of menace.

"Good morning, Lucas!" I replied, trying to keep my tone light.

"Good morning?! Zara, do you even realize what happened last night? How could you just give yourself to me after getting drunk? This is unacceptable!" he exclaimed, grabbing my wrist.

"What do you mean, Lucas?" I asked, feigning innocence. I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was firm.

His smirk told me he was well aware of my discomfort. He proceeded to berate me, attacking my upbringing, my womanhood, and even mocking me for sleeping with him.

"Why are you blaming me?" I asked, genuinely confused by his anger.

"Because it's your fault, Zara! If you hadn't challenged me last night, none of this would have happened!" he retorted.

In an instant, Lucas's harsh words left me feeling as fragile as ice under the midday sun. His cruel insults pierced me, leaving me on the verge of tears. I was shattered by the regret of having given my first intimate experience to such a callous man. He must have known he was my first, even in his drunken state, yet he chose to degrade me.

"Lucas, why are you acting this way?" I pleaded, "If you regret last night, you didn't have to come here."

"Damn you, Zara!" he spat out with venom, his words laced with fury.

His harsh words forced me to bite my lip, an attempt to keep it from trembling due to the humiliation. His eyes bore into me, filled with a rage I couldn't understand. I had expected kindness, perhaps an apology, but instead, I was met with anger and scorn. The man I had admired for so long was now a stranger, hurling insults at me as if I were worthless. Lucas Blackwood had the audacity to degrade me after being my first.

"You're just another desperate woman, aren't you? You enjoyed last night, didn't you, Zara?" His voice echoed in the room, filled with contempt.

I shook my head, unable to meet his angry gaze. His insults were too much to bear, his words too harsh.

"Lucas, you were drunk. We were both drunk, and you took advantage of my vulnerability," I said, my voice barely a whisper. His anger seemed to escalate at my words.

"Enough! Let's forget about last night, alright? Don't even think about crossing me...or I'll make your life a living nightmare, Zara!"

When he tossed a handful of crisp bills at me, my heart shattered. It was one thing to endure his verbal insults, but to have him pay me as if I were a commodity was beyond humiliating. Tears streamed down my face as I stared at the money scattered on the floor.

"I hate you!" I managed to say, my voice choked with emotion. His only response was a smirk.

"I hate you too, Zara! You cornered me into sleeping with you, and that's not fair. Do you know that I'm getting married soon?" he retorted.

He didn't even give me a chance to respond. His fear of his fiancée discovering our indiscretion was palpable. I felt insignificant and pathetic. How could he place all the blame on me? It wasn't me who drove us to my place.

"Stop blaming me, Lucas. If you truly loved your fiancée, you wouldn't have been tempted to sleep with me or anyone else," I countered, my voice shaking. His eyes narrowed in anger, and I instinctively took a step back, fearing his fury might turn physical.

"Shut up, Zara!" he yelled.

He left just in time, before my grandfather could confront him. As Lucas's car disappeared from view, my knees buckled under the weight of what had just happened. He had been so angry, blaming me for everything that had transpired between us.

I was in a daze, barely registering my grandfather's concerned inquiries. I didn't have the strength to respond. Instead, I retreated to my room, a pattern that would continue for several weeks.

My days became monotonous home to office, office to home, and nothing in between. It was dull, but I didn't care. Antoinette would occasionally suggest going out, but I couldn't bear to be reminded of that night.

Then, the day I had been dreading arrived. The signs were there the nausea, the fatigue. I confirmed my suspicions with a pregnancy test. I was pregnant with his baby!

I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. My mom had raised me alone, and the thought of disappointing her by becoming a single mother myself was unbearable. I tried to keep it a secret, but somehow, my grandfather found out. The ticking time bomb finally exploded, and my mother nearly collapsed when my grandfather's fury threatened to turn violent.

"Dad, stop it!" Mom pleaded, trying to calm him down. But he was relentless. He turned his disappointed gaze on me, his gray eyes filled with regret.

"Anna, what happened to your daughter? Didn't you raise her right? Why is history repeating itself?" he demanded, his voice filled with anger.

"Dad, please, that was in the past. Let's not dwell on it," Mom pleaded, trying to steer the conversation away from old wounds.

"And you, Zara! You never even met your father because he abandoned my daughter, and now you're making the same mistakes! Was it too much to ask for you to be careful?" Grandpa's words were like a punch to the gut.

His words echoed the cruel insults Lucas Blackwood had hurled at me. The pain of being used and degraded resurfaced, and I felt a lump forming in my throat.

"I'm sorry," was all I could manage to say.

"Sorry? Is that supposed to make everything better? I raised you to learn from your mother's mistakes, Zara! Tell me who he is! He has to take responsibility!"