🔥 The Contract is Complete. But the War Has Just Begun.

He married me for my resilience. He kept me for my courage.

Ariella Thomas was meant to be the disposable asset in a ruthless corporate marriage to the Wood family. But when her formidable husband, Beckham Wood (The Alpha), revealed the dark secret behind their alliance—a generations-old medical lie and a devastating betrayal—Ariella had to choose: run from the contract, or fight for the man who saw her strength.

From a cold contract to a final, heartbreaking choice. Dive into the complete 30-chapter saga of manipulation, betrayal, and a love forged in the fires of corporate warfare.

🚨 The full 30-chapter serialization is complete! Read the epic conclusion now! https://novelhot.top/novel/40

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Chapter 1: The Scorn and the Shadow

Three years. That’s how long the diamond on Ariella Thomas’s finger had sat, a frozen promise on a hand now shaking with suppressed fury. Joel Wood, her fiancé, had spent those years postponing their wedding, culminating in his latest, most casual dismissal: “I’m not ready to settle down, Ariella. We can push the date back.”

His words were still echoing in the bridal boutique’s plush quiet when she saw them. Joel, his back straight with an air of practiced indifference, was laughing—a genuine, unguarded sound she hadn’t heard directed at her in months—while adjusting the lace on Rosalie Powell’s shoulder. Rosalie, his perpetually frail childhood friend, was glowing in the blinding white of a Victorian-style wedding gown.

Ariella’s carefully constructed composure shattered.

Joel finally noticed her, his eyes cold and instantly flat, a mask snapping back into place. He sauntered over, a lazy, superior smirk curling his lips. “Ariella, are you really that eager to get married? Is it enjoyable, chasing after me everywhere?” He glanced back at Rosalie, his voice dripping with false empathy. “Rosalie’s about to graduate, and a garden wedding has always been her dream. Are you seriously going to get jealous over a harmless gesture?” He leaned in, his breath cool against her ear, delivering the final, stinging blow. “I’ve promised to marry you eventually, so could you stop acting so pathetic and clingy?”

The wedding dress Ariella had been holding felt suddenly heavy and meaningless. She turned, her movements stiff, and placed the costly silk back into the assistant’s numb hands. The shame was a burning coil in her stomach, but she refused to let the heat reach her eyes. Stepping outside, into the muted roar of the city, she pulled out her phone.

“Mom, I don’t want to marry Joel Wood anymore.”

Her mother, Lilith Thomas, gasped over the line. “How can that be? The marriage alliance with the Wood family was arranged by the elders! You can’t just—”

Ariella cut her off, her gaze snagging on a glossy magazine displayed nearby. On the cover, framed by a sleek black suit and an aura of untouchable power, was a man whose eyes promised absolute dominion. Beckham Wood. Joel’s uncle.

“Who says the Wood family only has Joel?” Ariella’s voice was dangerously low. “Doesn’t his uncle have the same last name?”

A moment of stunned silence stretched across the phone line. “You mean Beckham Wood?” Lilith’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with dread. “Ariella, he’s the head of the Wood family! He’s rumored to be incredibly cold and unfeeling. Do you really dare to marry him?”

“Have you forgotten that night?” Lilith pressed, panic rising. “The year you graduated from college, he braved that storm to bring you home, and you were so terrified you fell sick with a fever the next day!”

The memory hit Ariella like a physical shock—the lashing rain, the treacherous, broken road, Joel having abandoned her for a car race. Then, the sudden, silent appearance of a black sedan, the strong, unwavering presence of a man she barely knew, his arm a solid vise around her as he guided her through the downpour. At the time, she was too dizzy with fear and cold to question the sheer coincidence of Beckham Wood, the reclusive patriarch, finding her alone in the middle of nowhere.

That night, it was Joel who bled for her—kneeling, letting a vase smash against his head in a dramatic, tearful apology. He’d sworn on his life, “If I ever break my promise, let me be struck by lightning!” The sincerity in his bleeding face had moved her, blinding her to his reckless nature.

“Mom,” Ariella interrupted, forcing the toxic memory aside. “He isn’t worth my dedication. I refuse to be a second choice.”

“Ariella, it’s great to hear you’re finally thinking that way,” Lilith conceded, her tone abruptly supportive. “Your father and I have always felt Joel was unreliable. I’m going to talk to him right now and see if he can reach out to Beckham.”

Ariella held the marriage contract—the cold, legal text—close to her chest. “Just remind him, Mom. It’s a contract in black and white. It ties the family, not the son.”

“Marriage contract?” Joel’s voice, sharp and accusatory, sliced through the air behind her. He’d followed her outside.

Ariella slowly turned, a chilling smile replacing her pain. “Yes. Do you think I’m not going to back out just because there’s a piece of paper?”

“Ariella, your family sure knows how to make plans!” His face was twisting with a mixture of confusion and possessive anger. “Do you actually think you can force me into this marriage?” He quickly recovered, adopting a smoother, manipulative tone. “Look, I always keep my promises. I said I’d marry you, and I will. Rosalie struggled with her studies due to illness and she finally graduated. Can’t you show some compassion? You used to be kind.”

Kind. The word tasted like ash. All the excuses, all the blatant lies, flashing through her mind: Rosalie was bored, Rosalie’s health isn’t great, it’s just a necklace… She had believed his red string of fate, believed she was his soulmate. She had been the gullible fool.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. A text message from an unknown number.

“I’m Beckham Wood.” “I heard you want to switch marriage partners?” “I’ve agreed.”

Ariella put the phone away, the chill in her heart deepening into a weapon. She met Joel’s smug gaze, her eyes utterly devoid of warmth.

“Well then, here’s to Rosalie’s graduation.”

Joel looked puzzled, the faint smirk faltering. “What do you mean by that?”