Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 40: Contractual Realities

Chapter 40: Contractual Realities

Mira’s voice was chilled this time. If you hadn’t seen her tear-streaked face, you would never have guessed she had been crying. The pain and disappointment in her tone made it even icier, the kind of cold that cuts deep. Maybe she had overestimated him—why was she acting like this? She never thought he was a virgin before. It wasn’t until James said something. But even then, James hadn’t explicitly told her. He just mentioned that Zamian had never been in a relationship before. That didn’t mean he hadn’t done other things, right?

Mira opened the car door to leave, but just as she was about to step out, Zamian grabbed her wrist firmly, stopping her in her tracks.

"F*ck the contract, Mira. Be yourself. Stop this."

Mira turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "I’m simply following the rules. Remember, we signed it," she replied coldly.

"F*ck it," Zamian muttered again, his voice more intense this time.

Mira’s eyes widened in surprise, stunned by his words. She spoke quietly, "And may I ask why you’re using the F word? Is it even legal for you to say that?"

Zamian’s eyes widened in shock, caught off guard by her response. His head snapped toward her, staring in disbelief. Was she joking? But she wasn’t. She was dead serious.

"If Mr. CEO acts this way, what kind of example are you setting for the younger generation?" Mira’s voice was as cold as ever, her words deliberate, cutting through the tension in the air.

Zamian blinked, his grip on her wrist loosening slightly as he processed her words. He wasn’t used to anyone questioning him like this, especially not Mira. She wasn’t yelling, she wasn’t pleading—she was calm, detached even, but her words hit him like a slap.

"Mira..." he began, but she cut him off.

"I mean, what if someone heard you, Mr. CEO? Using that kind of language," she said, her tone light but dripping with sarcasm. "What would the shareholders think? What about the board? The media? Should I remind you that we’re constantly being watched?"

Zamian’s jaw tightened. He had never seen her like this. She wasn’t angry in the traditional sense; she was in control, and that unnerved him more than anything.

"You care more about the contract and appearances than about us," he said quietly, almost to himself.

Mira raised an eyebrow. "Us? Mr. Zamian, don’t confuse things. There is no ’us.’ There’s a contract. And in that contract, there were rules, expectations. I’m simply doing my part. You don’t have to use vulgar language to express your dissatisfaction."

Her voice remained steady, composed, as if she were speaking to a colleague in a boardroom rather than the man she was supposed to be married to.

Zamian clenched his fists, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You don’t get it, do you?"

"I think I understand perfectly," Mira said, pulling her wrist free from his grasp. "You don’t like the way this is playing out, but I’m just following your lead. You wanted this cold, businesslike arrangement. Well, here it is. I didn’t realize you had a problem with it."

Zamian stared at her, unsure of how to respond. This was not the same Mira he had been dealing with before. She wasn’t emotional or fragile now—she was in control of herself, and that threw him off balance.

"Mira, I don’t—"

She held up a hand, cutting him off again. "Let me remind you of something, Zamian—you are my husband now. Whether you like it or not, whatever you do from now on will affect my reputation too. Even if we divorce, your actions could follow me. I’ve seen how these things play out in the media. My name will always be tied to yours, and I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life cleaning up after your mistakes."

Zamian’s eyes widened at her statement. Her words carried the weight of truth. She wasn’t merely concerned with the present moment; she was thinking long-term, about the consequences that would ripple through both their lives, even if they went their separate ways.

"You think this contract is just a temporary arrangement?" she continued, her voice still calm. "Think again. People don’t forget things like this, and once we’re linked, even after divorce, our names will be bound together in one way or another. I’d appreciate it if you kept that in mind when you’re out there cursing and carrying on."

The icy calm of her tone chilled him to the core.

Zamian clenched his fists tighter. "You’re exaggerating."

"Am I?" she asked, her eyes cold but sharp. "You can gamble with your own reputation, but I won’t let you gamble with mine."

He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. There was nothing to say. She was right, and the truth of it sank in deeper than he cared to admit.

"If this marriage—this contract—means anything to you, maybe you should start acting like it," she continued. "But if it doesn’t, then stop pretending it does. Stop trying to play both sides."

He sat there, speechless. He had never encountered anyone who spoke to him like this, much less in such a composed, logical way. There was nothing he could say to counter her argument.

"I’ll leave now," she said coolly, stepping out of the car. "I won’t bother you again, Mr. Zamian. You can return to your important meeting."

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there, completely and utterly stunned.

For the first time, Zamian felt the full weight of what was happening. It wasn’t just the contract that was at risk anymore—it was something far more significant, and he had no idea how to fix it.

---

Zamian sat frozen, staring at the spot where Mira had just been. Did she just... scold him? The almighty, untouchable Zamian, CEO of one of the most powerful companies, was scolded like a misbehaving child? His mind reeled. He replayed every word she had said, each one cutting deeper than he had realized in the moment.

He had been so used to people tiptoeing around him, bending to his will, that Mira’s calm defiance hit him like a freight train. Her unwavering gaze, her steady voice—it all unsettled him in ways he couldn’t put into words. He was Zamian, after all. No one spoke to him that way. No one dared.

But she had.

His jaw clenched, a mixture of confusion and something else he couldn’t quite define settling in his chest. He should be angry. He should feel insulted. Yet, all he could think about was the way she had walked away, her words still echoing in his ears.

---

Meanwhile, Mira stepped into the other car**, her exterior as composed as ever. She closed the door with a firm click, wiped her face, and muttered, "Let’s go." Her voice was steady, even though her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. She had held it together as long as she could.

As the car began to pull away, the floodgates broke. Her tears came in torrents, and she couldn’t stop them. The sobs wracked her body, each one more painful than the last. It wasn’t just about what had happened today—it was everything. The contract marriage, the coldness between them, the way she had been reduced to nothing more than a business transaction.

Mira clutched her chest, as though trying to hold herself together, but it was no use. Everything she had been holding back came pouring out. She had overestimated him. She had hoped—foolishly, perhaps—that there was more to Zamian than what met the eye. That somewhere beneath his cold exterior, there was a man who cared. But today had shattered whatever illusions she had left.

"How could I have been so stupid"