The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 38: A Wedding Gift

Chapter 38: A Wedding Gift

The car glided smoothly along the city roads despite the growing weekend traffic. Saturday mornings were rarely this busy, but today, cars lined up at every intersection, merging in a slow, chaotic dance.

Having spent so many months abroad, Jane had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in traffic on a weekend.

Today’s drive in Vernon’s car felt drastically different from the night before. Last night, she had been exhausted, cold, and utterly lost as they sped in the opposite direction. Now, she was tense and drained, but the sense of disorientation had been replaced by a gnawing irritation and restless frustration.

She chewed on her lower lip, still able to faintly feel the smudge of whipped cream from earlier, as if his touch lingered there, unwilling to let go.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she found the soft leather strangely rough against her skin, the sensation unsettling. But she knew the real problem was not the seat—it was him.

It was hard to breathe in his presence.

Desperate to distract herself from the tension coiling inside the car, Jane turned her attention to the passing scenery outside the window. But as the familiar streets blurred past, something clicked. Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned to face Vernon.

"Are we... a-are we going back t-to my mansion?" she asked, her voice unsteady. "Why?"

Vernon didn’t seem the least bit interested in her bewilderment. His sharp brown eyes remained fixed on the laptop screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease. Without sparing her a glance, he answered in an offhanded tone, "You’ll see."

It was just like she remembered from their tutoring sessions years ago—the unwavering intensity with which he worked, as if the world around him simply ceased to exist.

Jane hesitated, wanting to ask something else, but ultimately decided against it. The vacant expression on his face made it clear—her questions wouldn’t matter.

As the car rolled to a stop before the familiar gates of the Devold estate, an unsettling heaviness settled in her chest. The moment the driver stepped out and pulled the door open for her, she felt an inexplicable resistance, as if her body had fused with the leather seat.

"Miss?" The man, dressed in a crisp black suit and matching driver’s cap, gave her a polite yet expectant look. Taking a steadying breath, Jane forced herself to move, her legs feeling stiff as she stepped onto the pavement.

The instant she reached Vernon’s side, he frowned in irritation. He had never been a patient man, but now, it seemed that trait had sharpened into something even colder—more unyielding.

Without a word, he turned and punched in a seven-digit passcode, his fingers pressing the numbers with effortless familiarity. A loud beep echoed in the quiet morning air as the metal gates unlocked and began to slide open.

Jane’s gaze locked onto the back of his head, unease prickling her skin.

How did he know the passcode?

It wasn’t just the company he owned now.

It was the house, too.

And with that... he owned her.

Their walk to the front entrance of the mansion was silent, thick with an unbearable tension. Jane trailed a few steps behind Vernon, moving hesitantly, as if she had forgotten the way. In truth, she was afraid to walk ahead—afraid to step into a place that no longer felt like home.

"After you." Vernon entered another passcode and pushed open the heavy door, stepping aside to let her in first. His expression remained unreadable, devoid of emotion—even the usual mocking amusement was absent.

Steeling herself for whatever awaited her inside, Jane inhaled deeply and crossed the threshold. The moment she did, a sharp sting pricked at the back of her eyes. The familiar, sweet scent of the perfumed potpourri that Mrs. Kim always tucked into hidden corners enveloped her, momentarily unraveling the knot in her chest.

Everything inside the mansion remained untouched—every piece of furniture, every decor item was exactly where she remembered. Yet, despite the pristine appearance, something felt unmistakably wrong.

They’ve already claimed everything...

Jane’s gaze darted frantically around the spacious, sunlit living room. Every item—every couch, lamp, and framed photograph—had a glaring blue sticker slapped onto it, a stark contrast against the elegant, neutral tones of the room.

The color clashed violently with the space’s refined palette, standing out like an intrusive stain. It felt as if strangers had trespassed into her home, pressing their fingers dipped in blue paint against everything of value, marking what was no longer hers.

It was a devastating sight—cold, impersonal, and utterly heartbreaking. Her father had never changed a single thing in the mansion after her mother’s passing, holding on to every piece of furniture, every painting, and every trinket because they were steeped in memories of her.

Now, everything they had cherished for so long would be stripped away, scattered, and sold to strangers.

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice trembling as she finally turned to Vernon, who had remained silent all this time.

"H-How c-can we be here?" she asked, her fingers clenching the fabric of her skirt as if that alone could steady her.

Vernon barely spared her a glance.

"I arranged for the house to remain unsealed until noon today. After that, everything that can be sold will be auctioned off to help cover your father’s debt."

He paused briefly before adding, in a tone so detached it sent a chill down her spine, "As a wedding gift, I’ll allow you to choose one item to keep. I’ll pay for it."

The words hit her like a slap, each one colder than the last. Wedding gift.

She had managed to push aside the reality of her agreement with him, but now, hearing marriage and debt uttered in the same breath, the blood drained from her face. Her hands turned clammy, her breath coming in shallow bursts as the weight of her situation settled over her like an iron shroud.