Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Wife

The grand manor house hall was bathed in the soft, eerie glow of moonlight streaming in through the tall windows. The walls were adorned with priceless paintings and opulent tapestries that bore witness to the generations of wealth that had flowed through the Rezlee family. In the center of the hall, two men faced each other, their fists clenched, ready to unleash a storm of violence. Alessandro, a rugged and battle-hardened man with scars that told the story of countless battles, stood tall and imposing. His eyes burned with determination as he glared at Romanov, a cunning and shrewd billionaire, who exuded an air of arrogance that only wealth and power could bring. The first punch was thrown by Romanov, his fist sailing through the air like a cannonball. Alessandro ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered with a swift, precise jab to Romanov’s midsection. The force of the punch caused Romanov to stagger back, crashing into a priceless antique table, sending shards of glass and splinters of wood flying in all directions. Romanov grunted in pain but quickly recovered. He lunged at Alessandro with a roundhouse kick, aiming for his head. Alessandro was quick to react, ducking and spinning out of the way just in time. The kick whizzed past, missing its target by inches. Alessandro seized the opportunity and delivered a powerful right hook to Romanov’s jaw. The impact of the blow snapped Romanov’s head to the side, and he stumbled, dazed and disoriented. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth as he regained his footing. Romanov, infuriated and humiliated, charged at Alessandro with reckless abandon. He tackled Alessandro around the waist, lifting him off his feet and driving him into a wall with a bone-crushing thud. The impact dislodged an exquisite chandelier, which came crashing down in a shower of crystal and metal, narrowly missing them both. Gasping for breath, Alessandro grappled with Romanov, struggling to break free. He managed to land a series of fierce blows to Romanov’s midsection, causing him to loosen his grip. With a final, powerful push, Alessandro broke free and sent Romanov sprawling across the floor. The two men now stood a few feet apart, panting heavily and nursing their wounds. Their faces bore the marks of the brutal brawl, but neither was willing to give in. The hall was in shambles, with broken furniture and shattered artwork strewn about, a testament to the fierce battle that had raged within these opulent walls. Alessandro and Romanov locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew that this fight was far from over, and the hall was about to become the stage for the final, decisive round of their relentless battle. Alessandro’s chest heaved with exhaustion, but his determination burned brighter than ever. He knew that he had to deliver a message to Romanov, one that would leave a lasting impact. With a determined glint in his eye, Alessandro surged forward, closing the distance between him and Romanov in the blink of an eye. His calloused fist lashed out, connecting with Romanov’s temple in a resounding crack. Romanov’s eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. For a moment, Alessandro stood over his fallen adversary, catching his breath. He wiped blood from a gash on his brow, his chest heaving as he looked around at the destruction in the once-grand hall. The shattered chandelier lay as a twisted testament to the battle that had taken place. Alessandro turned away from Romanov’s unconscious form and made his way to the hall’s exit, his steps heavy, but resolute. He knew that his quest to uncover the truth about Mary was far from over, and that meant leaving this opulent villa for the time being. As he reached the doorway, he glanced back one last time at Romanov’s prone figure, a hint of pity in his eyes. Then, with a voice filled with unwavering determination, he called out, “I’ll be back, Romanov. I will find the truth about Mary, and when I do, I’ll return to settle this once and for all. You can’t blame me for no reason, you will pay for this insult.” With that, Alessandro stepped out into the moonlit night, leaving behind the wreckage of the grand manor house. Alessandro stepped out of the villa, the cold night air washing over him, chilling the sweat on his brow. His mind was a whirlwind of questions, doubts, and determination. He paced back and forth on the cobblestone path, raking a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to make sense of the enigma that was Mary and her connection to Romanov. “Who is this Mary?” he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with frustration. “What could she possibly need from me that she would go to such lengths to keep her secret and be around me?” He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that clung to him. Alessandro’s thoughts turned to the stories he’d heard, the whispers of a forbidden love, and the undeniable secrecy that shrouded Mary’s existence. He knew that Romanov’s affection for his sister was a closely guarded secret, one that only added to the enigma. As he continued to pace, Alessandro’s resolve solidified. He had come to this grand villa seeking answers, and he wouldn’t stop until he unraveled the truth about his personal matters. He knew it wouldn’t be an easy journey, but he couldn’t turn away from the task at hand. His heart was intertwined with this mystery, and he had to understand the depths of Romanov’s secrets and the truth about the woman who seemed to hold the key to it all. With a determined sigh, Alessandro adjusted his clothing, the scars from the battle still throbbing with pain. He glanced back at the villa one last time, a sense of purpose burning within him. “I will find Mary,” he vowed, his voice resolute. “And in doing so, I have to protect Elle from her if they both are closer to each other. I cannot let Mary harm Elle at all.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.