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Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress Novel Cover

Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress

Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée. But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes. She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund. When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling. Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse. "You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust. For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn. The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier. Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital. She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.
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Chapter 4

The main hall of the Marriage Bureau was loud, packed with couples holding cheap bouquets.

Alysia ignored them all.

Her eyes scanned the room and locked onto the VIP waiting area in the far corner.

Jude Cantrell sat on a leather bench.

He wore a bespoke charcoal suit that looked like armor.

His long legs were crossed, and he was staring down at a tablet, his thumb swiping aggressively across the screen.

He radiated a freezing, untouchable energy.

His chief of staff, Alex Vance, stood beside him.

Two massive bodyguards flanked the perimeter, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats.

Alysia walked over to a vending machine near the wall.

She bought a cup of scalding hot black coffee.

She held the flimsy paper cup in her left hand and walked casually toward the VIP area.

As she approached the invisible perimeter set by the bodyguards, she let her right ankle roll.

She pitched forward.

The hot coffee flew from her hand, splashing directly onto the chest of the bodyguard on the left.

The man hissed in pain, instinctively stepping backward and swatting at his ruined suit jacket.

The defensive line broke for exactly one second.

Alysia didn't apologize.

She slipped through the gap like a ghost.

Alex reacted instantly.

He lunged forward, his hand reaching for Alysia's shoulder to physically throw her back.

"Step back, miss!" Alex barked.

Alysia dropped her shoulder, letting Alex's hand slide off her coat.

With her right hand, she shoved a thick, matte-black business card directly into Alex's palm.

Alex looked down, ready to crush the card.

He froze.

Printed on the card wasn't code, but a single, elegant equation that redefined the project's core problem-the exact solution to the fatal flaw in the Cantrell Group's core AI project-the flaw that was currently tearing the company apart.

In the half-second Alex stopped breathing, Alysia stepped past him.

She stopped exactly two feet in front of Jude Cantrell.

Jude finally looked up from his tablet.

His slate-gray eyes met hers.

There was no surprise in his gaze, only a violent, calculating stillness.

The bodyguards recovered.

They drew their tasers, aiming the red laser dots directly at Alysia's chest.

The air in the hall turned to ice.

Jude raised his right hand.

He didn't speak, but the bodyguards instantly froze, lowering their weapons an inch.

Jude adjusted his left cufflink with his thumb-a slow, deliberate motion.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you are?" Jude's voice was a low, gravelly threat.

Alysia stared down at him.

Her heart beat in a slow, controlled rhythm.

"Stupider than getting ousted from your own board in ten minutes because you refuse to marry a socialite?"

Jude's eyes darkened. The news was public—every financial channel had been running the ticker for hours—but hearing it thrown in his face by a stranger still grated on his nerves.

Alysia pulled a plastic chair from a nearby desk and dragged it over.

She sat down directly across from him, crossing her legs, mirroring his dominant posture.

"One year," Alysia said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "A contract marriage. I act as your shield against your grandfather's arranged marriages. You act as my shield to secure my trust fund."

Jude let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Why the hell would I partner with a stray off the street when I have a line of heiresses waiting outside?"

Alysia leaned forward.

She could smell the sharp scent of cedar and expensive scotch on him.

"Because an heiress comes with a board seat and a father who wants to control you," Alysia whispered. "I come with nothing. I am clean. And I am easy to control."

She paused, letting the silence stretch.

"More importantly," she added, nodding toward Alex's hand. "I can fix the AI code on that card. You walk into your board meeting today with a working prototype, and you own the room."

Jude's eyes darkened.

He stared at her face, searching for the lie.

He found nothing but a terrifying, empty confidence.

Alex checked his watch, his face pale.

"Sir. Your grandfather's motorcade is fifteen minutes away. They are coming to pull you out of here."

Jude sat in silence for ten agonizing seconds.

The tension between them was physical, a heavy pressure pushing against Alysia's ribs.

Suddenly, Jude tossed his tablet to Alex.

He stood up, towering over Alysia.

"Where is the contract?" he demanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Alysia unzipped her bag.

She pulled out a thirty-page, legally binding prenuptial agreement.

Jude didn't read a single word.

He flipped to the last page, pulled a silver fountain pen from his breast pocket, and slashed his signature across the bottom line.

He threw the packet back at her.

His large hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist like a vice.

The heat of his skin burned through her sleeve.

"Let's go take the damn picture," he ordered, dragging her toward the registration window.

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