Toxic Vows: The CEO's Rejected Bride

Toxic Vows: The CEO's Rejected Bride

Eleanor · Completed · 202.6k Words

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Introduction

Alexander pinned Sophia to the wall, his cock thrust in her pussy. Her body shook as he bit her breast, rough with frustration, but still gentle.
Sophia had sacrificed a lot for him, even destroying her sense of smell. But all she got in return was his cold indifference.
The night his first love returned to the country, Sophia threw the divorce papers at him."Give me two months," he said, and tore them up. "I promise you'll fall in love with me."
The contract's weight and his first love's shadow trapped her deeper in this love game.

Chapter 1

In the dim light of the private clinic, Sophia Winters lay on the simple treatment bed while Dr. Audrey Carroll worked carefully on her nasal nerve restoration therapy.

"Your olfactory nerves are severely damaged. What happened?" Audrey asked with furrowed brows, her hands moving with practiced precision.

Sophia kept her eyes closed, her voice weak. "I got too close to some essential oils during testing."

There was no point hiding it. For two years, she had tested countless toxic aromatic compounds to find the right formula to cure Alexander Kensington's rare condition. Each time, she had exposed herself to the dangerous substances, becoming her own test subject.

"Even with your natural immunity, you shouldn't push yourself like this," Audrey sighed, her tone growing more serious. "This damage is from prolonged exposure to harmful substances. If you continue, your sense of smell will be permanently destroyed. Do you understand?"

She handed Sophia a small packet of medication. "Take these as prescribed. Don't skip doses."

Sophia slowly sat up, nodding obediently. When she had agreed to marry Alexander, she had mentally prepared herself for sacrifices.

As for whether it was worth it, she wasn't sure.

Her thoughts drifted hazily, when suddenly a warm liquid gushed from her nostrils. Sophia blinked in confusion, reached up to touch her face, and was shocked to find her fingers covered in blood.

"Dr. Carroll, I—"

Before she could finish, darkness enveloped her vision. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she collapsed back onto the bed.

The last thing she heard was Audrey's urgent voice calling her name.

Two hours later, Sophia's thick eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly woke up, fumbling to sit up.

"You're awake?" Audrey turned toward her, hearing the movement. "How are you feeling?"

Sophia's lips were pale, but she nodded, remembering what had happened. "I'm sorry for the trouble. I should go now."

"You can't leave by yourself in this condition," Audrey frowned, her expression concerned. "I don't have many appointments today anyway. Let me drive you home."

Sophia paused, then gently shook her head, forcing herself to stand. "Thank you, Dr. Carroll, but that won't be necessary."

Audrey studied her for a moment before sighing with a complex expression, no longer insisting but warning her to be careful.

Stepping out of the private clinic, Sophia took a deep breath of fresh air—but couldn't smell anything. Two years of experimenting with toxic compounds had cured Alexander's condition but destroyed her sense of smell.

Her olfactory sensitivity had once been extraordinary—now it was gone.

For a perfumer, this loss was devastating.

Despite everything, Alexander remained oblivious, treating her with cold indifference and complete disregard.

Thinking about this, Sophia let out a bitter laugh.

She rubbed her temples and took out her phone to call a cab, surprised to discover over a dozen outgoing calls to Alexander in her call history—all unanswered.

Sophia's fingers trembled slightly. Alexander had always been her emergency contact.

Checking the timestamps, she realized Audrey must have called him while she was unconscious, hoping he would take her home. Yet he hadn't bothered to answer or return any calls.

Audrey had probably kept this from her out of consideration for her feelings.

She stared at the contact labeled "Husband" on her screen, a bitter ache twisting in her heart.

If she had waited for him to pick her up, she would have bled out before Alexander arrived, and even then, he would likely just coldly ask why she wasn't dead yet.

What a pitiful, failed woman she was.

Her heart ached with sharp, needle-like pain. Sophia raised her hand to cover her eyes, tears sliding between her fingers.

After a moment, she composed herself and got into the cab. The interior was quiet except for soft music playing.

Sophia mindlessly scrolled through her phone, trying to distract herself. That was when a piece of news caught her attention.

[SHOCKING: Lily Osborne, Osborne family heiress presumed dead in a yacht accident two years ago, is alive and has returned! Ms. Osborne successfully returned to the country this morning...]

Sophia froze.

Lily Osborne.

A name she knew all too well. Alexander's first love, the eternal perfection in his heart.

In the news photo, Lily was still breathtakingly beautiful, dressed in a white gown, graceful as a swan under the spotlight.

"Ma'am, there's construction ahead. The car can't go any further," the driver suddenly announced. "You'll need to walk the rest of the way."

Sophia snapped back to reality and looked ahead, seeing the construction barriers.

She sighed softly and got out of the car.

Today was truly miserable.

The evening breeze was cool, and she pulled her jacket tighter as she walked slowly along the sidewalk.

Passing a high-end restaurant, she glanced through the glass windows and caught sight of what was happening in a private dining room.

Alexander sat by the window, and across from him was a familiar figure.

Lily had changed from the white dress she'd worn that morning into a champagne-colored evening gown. Her beautiful long hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, radiating elegance.

They sat close together, with Lily's hand gently caressing Alexander's cheek, her beautiful almond eyes filled with adoration. Alexander, who typically recoiled from physical contact, made no move to pull away.

Several bottles of champagne and a cake sat on the table, suggesting they were celebrating something.

Sophia forced a smile.

Even through the glass, Alexander remained the man who commanded attention. He had removed his suit jacket, his broad shoulders and narrow waist cutting an impressive figure in the amber lighting. Even seated, his six-foot-two frame exuded a powerful presence.

His profile was sculptural—a straight nose, deep-set eyes, and those perpetually thin-pressed lips.

Wealthy, powerful, talented, and handsome—besides not loving her, Sophia could hardly find any other flaws in him.

God had seemingly bestowed all the world's blessings upon this man.

And now, this typically cold and controlled man, God's favorite, wore an expression of tenderness she had never seen before as he gazed intently at Lily.

Sophia should have known that with Lily's resurrection and return, Alexander would surely be with her.

While she had been unconscious in a private clinic, he had been celebrating a reunion with his true love.

In their two years of marriage, Alexander had shown her nothing but contempt. He saw her as bad luck, stubbornly believing she was somehow connected to Lily's presumed death. He had even thrown away the scented oils she had painstakingly crafted for him, accusing her of poisoning them.

In his eyes, she would forever be that kind of despicable woman.

Yet this marriage hadn't been her choice—not one that an ordinary woman like her could have refused.

Her sister had fallen seriously ill, requiring not only enormous medical expenses but also specialized care that only the Kensington family could provide in Emerald Harbor.

To save her only remaining family member, she had no choice but to accept Elizabeth Kensington's proposal to marry her son.

Now Elizabeth was gone, the two-year contract had expired, and she had diligently cured Alexander's condition, ensuring he could live past thirty, maintain normal sexual function, and be a complete man.

She no longer owed him anything.

Sophia lowered her eyes and coldly typed: [The contract has expired. Let's get divorced.]

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